The jungle clearing was unusually quiet.
Not a single breeze rustled the trees as forty students encircled Lucien, weapons drawn, eyes gleaming with ambition. They weren't here for a friendly challenge. They had one goal—take his survival credits and eliminate a threat before the trial ended.
Three of them stood out, peak D-rankers, confident and smug. They believed sheer numbers would crush the lone wolf standing before them.
Lucien didn't move.
His eyes, sharp and unblinking, swept across the crowd of would-be predators.
> "Forty rats."
"Only worth stepping on."
Without warning, he tossed a small metallic orb to the ground.
It hissed and exploded into thick, choking smoke that swallowed the clearing. Screams rang out. Panic erupted. Students coughed and stumbled, eyes stinging, blades swinging wildly in the blind chaos.
Inside the smoke, Lucien became a ghost.
Silent. Precise. Lethal.
One student tried to run. Lucien grabbed him from behind, a quick chop to the neck rendering him unconscious.
Another lunged with a dagger. Lucien spun, disarmed him mid-strike, and drove the blade's hilt into his gut. The boy collapsed with a gasp.
There were no theatrics. No wasted movement. Lucien moved like he'd done this a thousand times.
And he had—just not in this world.
In less than a minute, a dozen students lay sprawled across the forest floor, groaning or unconscious. The rest staggered, unsure whether to retreat or hold formation.
Up above, high on the floating instructor platform, the screen flickered with Lucien's live footage.
Fenrir Blackmane grinned, his wolf ears twitching with excitement. "That one hunts like a beast."
Selena Vermillion's crimson eyes narrowed as she leaned closer. "He doesn't hesitate. That's dangerous."
Leon Dobhal let out a soft chuckle. "He's not a boy. He's a natural-born predator."
Even the stern and silent Gorath Bloodfist gave a grunt of approval.
"Good. He understands what survival means. No foolish pride. No wasted mercy."
Back in the clearing, the remaining students tried to regroup around their three leaders.
A girl summoned a wall of stone to shield them. Another boy drew a sword engulfed in flame. The third activated a defensive body art, muscles thickening with ki.
Lucien walked straight through them.
The stone wall cracked under a precise strike to its foundation. The flame wielder barely reacted before Lucien snatched a shield from a fallen student and used it to deflect his fiery arc. With a flick of his wrist, he drove the edge of the shield into the boy's neck, knocking him out.
The body artist charged with a roar, fists like boulders. Lucien ducked beneath a wide punch and grabbed the boy's arm, using his own momentum to slam him face-first into the ground.
Three peak D-rankers. Gone in moments.
Lucien exhaled, calmly brushing dust from his coat.
Then, he turned to face the floating crystal that recorded everything.
> "Sheep who dare bare their fangs at wolves…"
"…deserve to be culled."
With that, he walked away.
No drama. No glance back.
The trial's system voice echoed a moment later, bouncing through the trees like a divine decree.
> "Final Phase Initiated:
Elite Beasts Descend!
Eliminate them for bonus survival credits!"
Suddenly, the forest shook.
Distant growls echoed from all sides. Shadows darted between trees. Massive, mutated beasts surged into the various zones. Survival had just evolved from student warfare to monster hunting.
Lucien didn't flinch.
He had barely taken five steps when a tall boy landed in front of him, sword drawn, posture arrogant.
His hair was like burning lava, and his muscles rippled under the academy battle uniform. A sharp, almost regal aura surrounded him.
The system identified him instantly:
> [Ignis Vaelthorn — Rank C | Weapon: Sword]
"I've been waiting for you," he said, his voice low but intense. "Show me what you're really made of."
Lucien said nothing.
A sudden burst of wind signaled another arrival—one that drew every gaze, even Ignis's.
Descending in a blur of silver and gold, Liana von Dragora landed nearby. The Dragon Princess's silver hair flowed like moonlight, and her golden eyes sparkled with amusement. Her academy uniform hugged her lithe figure like it was made for her.
She walked past Ignis as if he were invisible and stopped beside Lucien.
"Need my support, dear?" she asked, her voice soft and teasing.
Ignis blinked. Stared. Then stiffened as if someone had stabbed him in the chest.
> "The Dragon Princess... cares for him?"
"And... calls him dear?"
Jealousy twisted his face.
He was a noble. He had trained harder than most. He was strong.
But the one he'd secretly admired, respected—even fantasized about—was smiling at someone else. At Lucien.
Lucien didn't even look at her.
"No," he said flatly. "Stay back. It's unnecessary."
Liana giggled and took a few graceful steps backward, folding her arms as she watched.
Ignis's hands clenched. His pride—his identity—screamed in protest.
"You bastard," he growled. "Fine. Let's see how long that arrogance lasts."
He raised his sword in a perfect stance, refined and lethal.
Lucien pulled a basic blade from his storage. Not enchanted. Not unique. Just a simple, well-balanced weapon.
"I don't need anything special for this," Lucien said.
Their eyes locked.
Around them, the forest had gone silent again, the wind holding its breath as two predators stared each other down.
"If you still want to continue…" Lucien said, stepping forward.
"…then step forward."
Ignis surged forward with a roar.
And the clearing exploded with movement once more.