The third trial arena was unlike the others. Where the first had been a cavern of shifting illusions and the second a twisting labyrinth of traps, this one was a coliseum. Massive stone walls loomed overhead, scarred with claw marks and blackened stains. The very ground smelled of blood — some of it fresh, most of it long since dried into the dirt. Iron gates sealed both ends of the arena, their chains rattling faintly as if restless for what was about to unfold.
Kael, Ryn, and Jarek stood at the center. Their shadows stretched beneath the pale glow of the crystals fixed high above, cold light washing the battlefield in silver. Around them, every seat was filled. The guild had gathered hundreds to witness this final trial, and the air was thick with anticipation. This was no ordinary test. Everyone knew the third trial would be the most dangerous.
Behind Kael's group, another set of gates groaned open. Lyra's team staggered out, pale and torn. Their clothes were ripped, their weapons chipped, their bodies trembling with exhaustion. Lyra's steps faltered, and one of her teammates caught her before she collapsed entirely. They had passed — but just barely.
Ryn raised an eyebrow. "Looks like they just crawled out of the grave."
Jarek folded his arms, his expression hard. "And we're about to walk in."
Ryn smirked, though his voice lacked its usual confidence. "Great pep talk."
Kael's lips curved into a lopsided grin. "Don't worry. I'll protect you crybabies."
"Crybabies?!" Ryn snapped. "I'm the one who split that stone ogre's skull in the second trial while you were too busy making heart-eyes at the receptionist!"
Kael chuckled, brushing his messy hair back. "She smiled first. I had to be polite."
Jarek groaned softly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Focus. The gates are opening."
The words had barely left his lips when the arena floor began to tremble. The iron doors creaked, chains clattering as the barrier lifted. Darkness stretched beyond the gate, an abyss that seemed to swallow light itself.
Then came the sound.
Thud. Thud.
Each step was heavy enough to send vibrations through the arena floor. The cheering crowd quieted instantly. A low, guttural growl rolled out from the shadows, deep enough to make the walls hum.
And then it emerged.
A beast the size of a wagon prowled into the light. Its fur was black as night, bristling with jagged spines of bone that jutted along its back. Its claws were like hooked blades, and its glowing yellow eyes locked onto Kael with an intelligence far too sharp for comfort. Its jaws opened, revealing fangs like swords dripping with saliva.
The examiner's voice rang out, steady and cold:
"Third trial opponent: A-rank Direfang Wolf."
The words struck the crowd like thunder.
Gasps erupted, followed by shouts of disbelief.
"Did he say A-rank?!"
"That's insane! They're rookies!"
"They'll be slaughtered!"
Even Ryn's face paled. He leaned toward Kael, voice harsh. "A-rank? Are they trying to kill us?!"
"Probably," Kael said casually.
Ryn blinked. "You're awfully calm for someone about to be eaten alive."
Kael smirked faintly. "What can I say? I like dogs."
The Direfang roared, the sound like thunder tearing through the coliseum. Dust showered from the walls, and the crowd's noise was silenced in awe.
"Yeah?" Ryn shouted over the roar. "Then go pet it!"
The beast moved before the words even faded. Its massive body blurred forward, impossibly fast for its size. Its claws ripped through stone as it lunged directly at Kael.
Kael spun his spear, planting his feet. The clash rang out like a bell, steel against claw. The force sent him skidding across the dirt, but he held firm, the shock vibrating up his arms.
"Not bad," Kael muttered through gritted teeth.
Jarek darted to the flank, his hands glowing. With a gesture, he conjured a spear of pure light and hurled it into the Direfang's side. The radiant weapon struck — and shattered. Sparks flew. The beast snarled, barely scratched.
"Damn it!" Jarek hissed. "Its hide is like armor!"
Ryn roared, his axe twisting and reshaping into a massive war hammer mid-swing. He brought it down with every ounce of his strength. The hammer smashed into the ground, stone cracking, air exploding outward in a shockwave — but the Direfang twisted, its shoulder slamming into him like a boulder.
Ryn flew across the arena and slammed into the wall, leaving a dent shaped exactly like his body.
"Ryn!" Kael shouted.
From the wall came a muffled groan. "I'm fine! Just… testing the masonry."
The crowd laughed nervously, but the wolf wasn't amused. It locked its burning eyes on Kael, crouching for another charge.
Kael's grin faded.
The world narrowed to the beast in front of him.
The crowd, the noise, even his teammates blurred away. In its place came the memory of fire. His mother's scream. His father's blood. Varak's golden eyes watching everything burn.
Not again.
His grip tightened. The spear in his hands shimmered, the steel twisting and reshaping. The haft shrank, the head warped, until what remained was a long crimson-edged sword.
A heat surged through him, not of fire but of raw energy. Crimson light wrapped the blade like molten steel, humming with restrained fury.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
"What kind of weapon is that?!"
"That's not normal aura!"
A cold voice echoed in Kael's mind:
[Skill Unleashed: Crimson Edge — A-Rank]
The Direfang lunged, claws glinting, fangs bared.
Kael moved.
The blade swept in a single, precise arc.
For a heartbeat, silence.
Then — Slash!
A crimson line ripped across the air. The wolf's roar cut short as its massive body landed heavily, split open from shoulder to hip. Blood gushed onto the dirt, steaming in the cold light.
The Direfang lay still.
The crowd erupted in thunderous cheers.
"He cut it in one strike!"
"That was an A-rank beast!"
"Impossible!"
Ryn staggered out of his dent, jaw hanging open. "Kael… what did you just do?"
Kael lowered the sword, its crimson glow fading. His arm trembled violently, a sharp ache tearing through his muscles. He forced his grip steady, hiding the pain behind a grin.
"Just a little trick."
"A trick?!" Ryn barked, pointing at the bisected wolf. "That was not a trick! That was—you're cheating at life!"
Jarek's eyes lingered on him, quiet concern in their depths. "You looked like you were about to collapse."
Kael laughed it off, though his chest ached with every breath. "Details, details."
The examiner raised his hand. "Third trial… passed."
The coliseum roared with applause.
But not everyone clapped. In the higher seats, A-rankers and guild veterans exchanged grim looks. They had seen what the crowd had not: the faint shimmer of life force woven into Kael's blade. Power like that always came with a cost.
For the rest of the crowd, however, only one truth mattered:
Kael was no longer just a rookie.
He was the boy who had slain an A-rank beast with a single strike.
Celebration
By the time they stepped outside, the sun was sinking low, painting the streets of Ironhaven gold. The guild's plaza buzzed with voices. Adventurers, merchants, and even children had gathered, all eager to glimpse the trio who had passed the impossible trial.
Kael grinned and waved as if he were royalty, soaking in the cheers. Ryn walked stiffly, muttering under his breath. "Why are they looking at me like I'm some kind of hero? This is so weird."
"They're just impressed you survived standing next to me," Kael replied smoothly.
Jarek rolled his eyes. "If your head gets any bigger, we'll have to rent a cart just to haul your ego."
Kael clutched his chest dramatically. "Jarek, I thought you loved me."
Ryn groaned. "Can we get home before he starts proposing to random strangers again?"
Mentor's House
Their home was warm when they arrived. A stone hearth burned brightly, filling the wooden beams with soft creaks and the smell of roasted meat.
A figure sat by the fire, arms crossed, scars tracing his skin like battle-worn maps. Captain Draven Kaelor — the Iron Fang of the Triarch Blades, and the man who had saved them years ago.
"You boys made a mess out there," Draven said, his gravelly voice steady. "An A-rank Direfang… and you lived."
Kael grinned sheepishly. "Surprise?"
Ryn collapsed into a chair. "If nearly dying counts as a surprise, then yes."
Draven's expression softened for a heartbeat. "You've grown. But don't mistake survival for mastery."
Then his fist slammed into Kael's stomach.
"Ugh!" Kael doubled over, gasping.
"That," Draven said calmly, "is for swinging a skill you barely understand in front of half the guild."
Ryn burst out laughing. "Finally! Someone shut him up!"
Jarek just shook his head, though his lips twitched with a smile.
The Feast
Dinner was loud, chaotic, and warm. Ryn devoured food at a speed that should have been illegal. Jarek ate neatly, which only encouraged Kael to lean over and steal from his plate with exaggerated winks.
"Kael," Jarek warned.
"Yes, darling?" Kael replied sweetly, batting his eyelashes.
Ryn nearly choked on his drink laughing.
Draven groaned. "Why did I ever take you in?"
"Because you love me," Kael said with his mouth full.
Despite the noise, the room was filled with a comfort only family — chosen or not — could provide. For one night, the scars of the past felt far away.
After the Feast
Later, the three of them sat on the roof, the city lights glowing beneath a starlit sky.
"Tomorrow," Jarek said softly, "we start the real journey."
"The dungeon," Ryn muttered. "I've heard people vanish in there."
Kael traced a hand over the scar on his chest. His smile dimmed, just a little. "Then we won't vanish. We'll carve our names into it."
From below, Draven's voice carried up, rough but steady. "Rest well, boys. Tomorrow, the dungeon will show you who you truly are."
The stars above burned bright and endless. And so, their first true adventure was about to begin.