The sun had dipped low behind the mountains, painting the sky in streaks of amber and crimson. The open training field, framed by towering pines, seemed almost alive in the evening light. Lanterns swayed gently at the edge of the course, their glow flickering against the mist that lingered from the forest floor. The air smelled of damp earth, ink from the scrolls, and sweat—a prelude to the trials about to begin.
The candidates had assembled, rows forming naturally as the instructors' stern eyes swept over them. No words were wasted — the discipline in the air was tangible. Each student's breath came in quiet puffs as they waited, the faint rustling of the forest surrounding the field like a whisper of anticipation.
Haruto's eyes swept across the field. The wood and stone obstacles glinted faintly in the dim light, and his hands itched to move. Years of training with his father and the unending practice since their passing had forged his body and mind into a weapon of precision and endurance. He could feel the difference now — not arrogance, but confidence tempered with focus.
Raiden stood a few steps to his side, lightning seeming to hum faintly around his fists. His posture was relaxed, but every movement hinted at the controlled tension of someone ready to strike at any second.
Yuki Tsunemori, pale-blue hair catching the lantern light, adjusted her stance. Her gaze was sharp, calculating each obstacle as if she could see the invisible path through them before anyone else. Her movements would be measured, precise — efficiency embodied in living form.
Airi Hanabira's dark eyes glimmered with anticipation. Her grip on the hilt of her practice sword was firm but fluid. Flower Art or not, her agility would be her advantage — speed and rhythm synchronized with thought.
Kaede Mizuno, calm and deliberate, stood slightly apart, his 20-year-old frame coiled with quiet energy. He surveyed the course, considering every detail, every challenge, before committing his body to action. His Water Art training had taught him to flow, not resist, and that principle would guide him here.
The instructors, stern and silent, lined the far side of the field.
An silver haired instructor stepped forward, the same who conducted written trail. "This trial is of steel and spirit," he announced, voice carrying across the field. "Endurance, stamina, strength and determination. Those who fail… will not continue. You have to try it next year. If you survive till then. You will move through stages. Each stage is designed to test your limits. Push beyond them — or leave the path now."
The sound of brushes scraping on parchment in the previous test seemed distant memory now. This was raw, physical, immediate.
A bell rang sharply, slicing through the quiet.
"Stage One: The Endurance Run," boomed the instructor's voice. "You have thirty minutes to complete the marked course. Fall behind, falter, or quit, and your journey ends here. Begin!"
Immediately, the field erupted with motion. Candidates surged forward like released tension, boots kicking up clouds of dust and leaves.
Haruto's chest tightened in anticipation. Thirty minutes… it's not the longest, but the course itself will push every part of my body. Footing, stamina, balance… I trained for this. He inhaled deeply, fingers brushing the hilt of his katana as a reflex, though he had no weapon in hand.
Raiden shot forward almost effortlessly, his long strides eating up the distance. Lightning seemed to follow him in spirit, as though the air itself whispered encouragement to his steps. Haruto allowed himself a faint grin. He's fast… but let's see if endurance beats speed.
Behind them, minor candidates tripped over roots, stumbled against low branches, and cursed under their breath. The forest course wasn't merely a straight sprint—it twisted between trees, ducked under overhanging logs, and forced runners to scramble across slick stones by the riverbank. Every slip could cost precious seconds.
Yuki's pale-blue hair was damp with sweat, strands plastering to her forehead. She moved with a careful, measured grace, conserving energy, calculating each step. Focus… I can't afford to waste a single ounce of stamina. Every motion counts.
Airi's movements were fluid, almost rhythmic, her eyes fixed on the trail ahead. Despite the fatigue, she found a quiet satisfaction in the controlled swing of her arms and the cadence of her feet. This is more than speed—it's a dance with the earth.
Kaede, older than Haruto by three years, approached the course with quiet intensity. He didn't rush, but his long strides and steady breathing marked a man in control, observing and adapting rather than recklessly charging ahead.
Haruto found his rhythm early, matching the undulating course with careful precision. He leaped over fallen branches, landed lightly on mossy stones, and dodged low-hanging branches without breaking pace. His legs burned, lungs screamed for air, but he remembered his father's voice in every step: Strength without heart is wasted energy. Move with purpose, not just force.
Halfway through, the first real obstacle appeared: a waist-high wooden beam stretched across the path. Candidates had to vault over, land safely, and continue without hesitation. Several tripped, falling hard onto the damp forest floor. The instructors' sharp gazes tracked every failure.
Raiden cleared it with a fluid leap, landing silently and sprinting ahead. Haruto followed with barely a sound, muscles coiled and precise. Yuki hesitated slightly before the beam. Her eyes flicked to Haruto, whose motion was confident and deliberate. She took a deep breath and mirrored his form, vaulting with her full strength, barely clearing the edge.
Not bad, Haruto thought, allowing a faint smile before focusing on the next segment. She's stronger than she looks.
Behind them, the minor candidates struggled with coordination. One boy cursed loudly, attempting the beam three times before finally collapsing onto his hands and knees, wheezing. A girl slipped on a mossy stone, cutting her arm lightly on a branch. These were the sacrifices of the first stage, the field's cruel lesson.
As the course twisted near the river, water sluiced between stones, the surface slick and treacherous. Haruto's mind sharpened, analyzing footing, calculating angles. Do not rush. One misstep could end the run. He leapt across, landing on the opposite bank just as Raiden glanced back, eyebrows raised in approval.
Haruto, not bad, Raiden muttered under his breath, smirking as he surged forward again. Their silent friendly rivalry had begun, unspoken, yet charged with energy. Each stride was a conversation in movement, each breath a challenge.
Yuki lagged slightly behind Haruto, she stumbled on a loose stone, Haruto noticed he quickly help her, lightly brushing a hand across her back to steady her without breaking his own stride.
"Careful," he muttered quietly, almost under his breath. "Don't waste energy on panic."
Yuki nodded, focusing on the path once more, and Haruto surged forward, the ground beneath them falling away like a test of will as much as body.
Stage One ended at a clearing ringed with lanterns and wooden posts marking the finish line. Candidates who made it gasped for air, chest heaving, but their eyes were alight with a mix of relief and dread. The instructors' gazes were sharp, noting every stumble, every falter, every candidate who reached the line.
Raiden crossed first, a faint grin tugging at his lips. Haruto followed moments later, then Yuki, Airi, and Kaede, all five of the main candidates showing distinct control over their bodies. Behind them, some of the other candidates had failed the time limit, some collapsing in exhaustion, others merely panting but too far behind to be considered.
"Impressive," one instructor remarked, his voice cutting through the heavy evening air. "The first stage separates those who are alive in body from those merely alive in spirit. Rest briefly. Stage Two begins shortly. Prepare yourselves."
Raiden leaned over to Haruto, smirking, "Looks like we set the pace for the rest."
Haruto wiped the sweat from his brow, nodding. "The trial isn't over. Just the first step."
Yuki sank onto her heels, pale, chest rising rapidly. I can't let myself fall behind next time. Every second matters…
Airi, brushing damp hair from her face, looked around the field, eyes glinting with quiet determination. This isn't just endurance. It's survival, strength, spirit. Every stage will demand more.
Kaede, calm as ever, adjusted the strap of his small pack, scanning the field. "The real challenge isn't the first stage," he murmured, "it's keeping yourself whole for the next."
And as the sun dipped fully below the horizon, casting long shadows across the field, the lanterns flickered brighter, throwing the outlines of the next stage into sharp relief—heavy logs, climbing posts, and uneven terrain.
The forest whispered around them, and the instructors' gazes bore into the candidates. Every heartbeat now mattered. Every decision, every breath, every ounce of strength.
Haruto flexed his fingers, feeling the ache in his legs, yet ready. Stage Two. Time to test strength, not just endurance.
The candidates had barely touched water or wiped the sweat from their brows before the instructors' sharp calls pierced the evening air.
"Ten minutes! That is all you have to rest. Hydrate lightly, recover what you can. Stage Two commences immediately."
A low murmur swept through the field. The first stage had already weeded out a number of the weaker candidates. From the original hundred, now only Sixty stood, gasping, panting, and shaking slightly as they flexed sore muscles.
Haruto knelt briefly to tighten the straps on his boots, the ache in his legs a reminder of the endurance run. Good. That's expected. The body remembers, but it also adapts. He inhaled the crisp evening air, letting it fill his lungs and center his mind. Raiden, ever restless, stretched easily, cracks of faint static forming across his knuckles, his grin confident yet calculating.
The instructors returns— their presence commanding immediate attention. The first instructor raised a hand, and the murmurs ceased.
"Stage Two — Strength Trial. Each candidate must drag the boulder from the starting point to the marked finish line. Distance: one kilometer. Time limit: ten minutes. Only the spirit and the power within your body will carry you."
A low murmur ran through the candidates. The task was deceptively simple in words, impossibly demanding in execution.
"Focus your spiritual energy," another instructor added. "Your body will resist, your muscles will scream. Those who falter will be left behind. Fail, and your path as a hunter ends here."
Haruto stepped forward, his boots sinking slightly into the dirt. The boulder before him was massive—roughly the size of a small cart, jagged edges scraping the ground. He pressed his palms against its cold, rough surface. He felt the weight, the resistance, the sheer mass. His lungs inhaled deeply, drawing in the scent of earth and sweat, his mind emptying of fear.
Raiden, beside him, cracked his knuckles. The faint hiss of static whispered through his fingers, the air vibrating with anticipation.
Kaede Mizuno crouched low, centering himself. Though only twenty, his posture exuded a calm maturity. His eyes, dark and focused, traced the path ahead, calculating each step, each contraction of muscle.
Yuki Tsunemori bent forward, her pale-blue hair brushing the ground. Her fingers clenched on the edge of the boulder. Her breath was even, controlled, her icy composure unshaken even as the first shouts of exertion rang across the field.
Airi Hanabira, graceful as ever, placed her palms carefully, her movements precise, almost as if the boulder were a delicate blossom. Yet her muscles tensed with strength, energy flowing through her as she prepared.
The instructors raised their hands, and a deep bell resonated through the forest. The trial had begun.
Haruto exhaled, channeling his spiritual energy into his legs and arms. The boulder groaned, shifting slightly as he leveraged his weight. His feet dug into the soil, each movement deliberate, smooth. His breathing synchronized with the sway of the boulder, the rhythm of the task settling into his muscles like a familiar dance.
Raiden surged forward, using his lightning-imbued strikes of energy to reduce friction, his body a blur as he propelled the boulder. Sparks hissed faintly as arcs of electricity leapt across the rock, easing its weight without breaking the trial's rules.
Kaede pushed with precise, calculated strength. He did not rush. Each step was deliberate. His breathing was slow, deliberate, controlled. Other candidates' grunts and cries filled the field, but he maintained a steady rhythm.
Yuki lifted, her body coiled like a spring. Her spiritual energy flowed through her limbs, amplifying her strength. The rough surface bit into her palms, but her gaze never wavered.
Airi's movements were fluid and elegant. Strength and finesse coalesced, her body bending and shifting to use leverage, her floral grace visible even in exertion.
From the sidelines, less experienced candidates fought. Some misjudged the boulder's weight, losing balance and falling face-first into the dirt. One boy, shouting curses, tried to push recklessly, the rock sliding back and scraping his legs, drawing blood. A few were already limping, others collapsed mid-course, their attempts ending in exhaustion.
Haruto's eyes flicked briefly to them—not judgment, but observation. This was the harsh truth of the trials: weakness was exposure, hesitation was defeat.
Raiden smirked beside him. "Most won't make it past Stage Two. Watch and learn."
Haruto merely nodded, concentrating on rhythm and power. Focus. Control. Precision.
The digital bell chimed once more—a stark reminder of the clock. Five minutes passed in tense, grueling exertion. The boulders creaked and groaned. Sweat streaked faces, limbs quivered, but the main five—Haruto, Raiden, Kaede, Yuki, and Airi—moved with unbroken purpose.
"Halfway," Kaede muttered, his eyes scanning the horizon. Just maintain pace… Don't rush, don't strain.
Yuki's lips pressed into a firm line. The rock scraped heavily against the earth, but her breath stayed steady. The forest canopy was a dimming green above, the scent of pine and soil pungent, mingling with exertion and sweat.
Airi, meanwhile, adjusted her grip slightly. She noticed a minor candidate wobbling beside her, struggling to lift the boulder. She didn't interfere—her focus was unbroken—but her eyes flicked with awareness of the harsh reality.
The final meters came into view. Instructors called out the time. Candidates who faltered were immediately noted. Several collapsed, unable to lift their boulders for the last stretch. The crowd of remaining candidates shrank from sixty to forty-eight.
Haruto felt the burn in his shoulders and legs, but he pressed the boulder across the finish line with a final surge of effort. His breath came in harsh gasps, but his body remained steady, his mind unbroken.
Raiden slammed his boulder down with a grin. "Not bad. Not bad at all."
Kaede, calm as ever, placed the rock gently, nodding to himself. Yuki's final push brought her boulder into place, perfectly aligned. Airi's last movement was fluid and effortless, the rock sliding into position with grace.
The instructors nodded from their positions. The bell chimed again, signaling the end of Stage Two.
Haruto leaned against a rough tree trunk, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension in his muscles. The ache was familiar—the burn of exertion and focus—but he welcomed it. It reminded him that he had survived another test. Around him, the sounds of labored breathing and low curses filled the clearing.
Raiden squatted beside him, brushing dirt from his palms. He didn't speak at first, letting the silence stretch between them. Finally, he muttered, "Not many made it… I counted. From sixty down to forty-eight." His sharp blue eyes flicked to the remaining candidates stumbling past. "Seems like the boulder's heavier when you can't afford to slow down."
Haruto nodded slowly, letting the ache in his arms anchor his thoughts. "It wasn't easy. But I expected it to be… harsh." His gaze drifted toward the path they had just conquered. "Every stage will push us like this."
Airi sat a short distance away, gracefully stretching her legs despite the exhaustion, her floral-patterned sleeves brushing against the soil. She exhaled softly, closing her eyes. "I can feel my muscles screaming, but it's… satisfying," she murmured to herself. Her gaze wandered toward Haruto and Raiden, acknowledging the intensity they brought to the trial without envy, only quiet respect.
Yuki rested on the grass, leaning on her hands, the faint breeze cooling her flushed face. Her pale eyes tracked the remaining candidates, noting those who had fallen behind. "They underestimate the trial," she said softly, almost to herself. "Strength alone isn't enough. Precision, control… and stamina. So many faltered on the smallest misstep." She flexed her fingers, testing them after the strain, before letting them rest again.
Kaede stood nearby, legs slightly bent, eyes focused on the horizon where the instructors were preparing the next course. He breathed steadily, deliberately, as though even in rest he was calculating movements, conserving energy. "Ten minutes isn't enough," he said quietly. "But it's all they'll give us. I'll use every second."
"Stage Three isn't far off," Haruto said to Raiden, rubbing his shoulders. "I can feel it already… whatever comes next, it'll test more than just strength."
Raiden leaned back, letting the cool forest breeze wash over his heated skin. "Then we better make sure we're ready."
The candidates around them murmured and groaned, some lying flat on the earth, some stretching, all aware that the battle for survival wasn't over. The forest seemed quieter now, as if holding its breath, waiting for the next stage to begin.
Haruto's gaze fell on the path ahead, a mix of determination and calculation in his eyes. The boulders were behind them, but the trial had only just begun. This pause—short, bitter, necessary—was the calm before the storm.
Yuki stood slowly, brushing dust from her clothing. Her eyes met Haruto's briefly. A silent acknowledgment passed between them—strength alone wasn't enough, but together, or at least side by side, they would endure what the trial demanded.
Airi straightened her posture, smoothing the wrinkles in her sleeve, her calm elegance unwavering. Kaede's measured breaths mirrored the rhythm of the forest, syncing with the swaying of leaves overhead.
Raiden stood, cracking his neck and flexing his fingers. "Time's almost up. Let's see who's really ready to survive Stage Three."
Haruto exhaled slowly, letting the tension in his shoulders settle. "Let's finish this," he said quietly. "No mistakes. No hesitation."
The instructors' calls cut through the clearing. "Ten minutes are over. Stage Three begins now."
The forest seemed to lean in closer, the air thick with anticipation, as the remaining candidates readied themselves for the next trial—stamina, endurance, and spirit pushed to the edge.
To be continued.....