The night had deepened into a heavy, breathless silence. The moon, pale and veiled behind drifting clouds, watched from above as if bearing witness to the storm that was about to unfold. Torches burned along the boundary of the training field, their flames bending under a whispering mountain wind.
The candidates stood once again before the instructors — forty-eight of them now. Fewer faces. More eyes hardened by exhaustion. The boulders from the last trial sat behind them like gravestones marking the fallen.
Haruto flexed his fingers, knuckles popping quietly. The ache in his muscles had dulled into a heavy hum beneath the skin, the kind that no rest could erase — only movement. His breath fogged faintly in the cold air, slow and measured.
Raiden stood beside him, arms folded, a faint smirk on his face. Sparks danced faintly around his wrist, not out of power, but habit. His breathing was steady — the rhythm of someone who lived for challenge.
Yuki, standing three lines away, drew in a deep breath. Her pale hair reflected the firelight like frost under flame. She could feel the weight of her heartbeat against her ribs, not from fear — but from the quiet thrill of the next test.
Airi knelt beside her, head lowered, whispering something — a mantra maybe. Kaede, calm and deliberate, adjusted his wrist wraps and raised his gaze toward the instructors.
Then the silver-haired instructor stepped forward again. His presence was magnetic — calm, but absolute.
"Stage Three," he announced. "The Trial of Stamina."
The words carried across the clearing like the toll of a bell.
He continued, "From this point, you will enter the mountain course. A natural path designed to strip you to the bone — three hours of continuous trial. You will run, climb, swim, crawl, and push through the terrain until you reach the marked temple gate at the summit. You may use your arts to reinforce your body — but your energy control will be tested as much as your endurance. Waste it, and you will not finish."
A quiet murmur swept through the candidates.
Three hours. No breaks. No reprieve.
The silver-haired instructor's eyes swept over them. "Survive this… and you may rest. Fail, and the forest will take what's left of you."
He raised his hand.
A distant horn echoed through the forest.
The trial began.
The Mountain's Breath
The first step into the course felt like stepping into another world. The forest swallowed them whole. The path was uneven, roots and stones jutting through the soil. Mist hung low, curling around their ankles like ghostly fingers.
Haruto set into motion — controlled, deliberate. He didn't sprint. He measured his pace. Every footfall balanced between speed and economy. His breathing was calm, sharp exhales through the nose, in rhythm with his strides. His father's training echoed in his memory.
"The body doesn't move the mountain, Haruto. The heart does. Breathe until your pain becomes rhythm."
Behind him, Raiden's boots struck the ground with the tempo of thunder. He didn't hold back — his stamina was a weapon in itself. Sparks glimmered around his calves as he pushed uphill.
"Try not to fall behind, Hero!" Raiden called, flashing a grin.
Haruto didn't answer — a wide smirk appears on his face. His smirk was the answer.
Further back, Yuki ran with careful precision. Her breathing was even, her pace consistent. The pale glow of moonlight cut across her face — calm, unbroken focus. Her control of body and rhythm was almost surgical. But even so, her chest burned.
Three hours. You can't think about the end. Just the next breath.
Airi, nimble as a cat, leapt over low branches, using her light frame to maneuver quickly. Her agility made her seem to glide through the forest. Behind her, Kaede's heavier steps were measured, each stride purposeful, conserving energy.
The first hour tore through them like a storm.
The terrain changed constantly — a steep incline that burned their thighs, a river crossing with icy water that bit into their legs, followed by a field of slick moss-covered rocks that punished every misstep.
The forest tested more than muscle; it tested control.
Candidates began to drop.
A boy with short brown hair stumbled and fell into the stream, gasping as the cold robbed him of strength. Two others tried to drag him up but slipped themselves. Instructors stationed along checkpoints silently marked their failures.
Haruto caught a glimpse of them — then turned his gaze forward again. There was no room for sympathy. Only endurance.
They reached at the River Path.
The path narrowed into a rushing river. The current glimmered silver under moonlight, fast and merciless. Wooden posts jutted from the water — a path to the opposite bank.
"Balance test," Raiden muttered, smirking. "They're really making us earn it."
He launched forward, boots landing on the first post with a thud. The wood swayed, slick with moss. His arms stretched for balance, lightning crackling faintly under his soles to secure grip.
Haruto followed — completely focus. His breathing steadied. His gaze locked forward. Step, shift, balance, breathe. The water roared beneath, splashing against his calves.
One misstep, and he would be swept away.
Halfway across, the post under him shifted. He leaned forward instinctively, arms extending, catching the next one with a controlled fall. His palms burned from the friction, but he didn't stop.
He heard Yuki's light steps behind him — careful, deliberate, fluid.
Her voice, calm despite the chaos: "Your center of gravity — you shift it too far forward."
Haruto didn't answer. He just corrected his posture.
Raiden, already on the other bank, cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Come on! I thought you were faster than that, Haruto!"
Haruto landed on the shore seconds later, dripping water from his sleeves, breath steady. He gave Raiden a glance — a faint smile, a look sharp enough to challenge.
Raiden grinned wider. "There it is. That's the look I like."
The second hour began with the mountain ascent.
The air thinned, cold seeping into their lungs. The path wound upward in brutal spirals, roots acting as both footholds and traps.
Haruto gripped a low branch and hauled himself up, muscles straining. His body screamed, but his mind was still. His world narrowed to the next grip, the next pull, the next breath.
Below him, Airi climbed quickly, her movements elegant but efficient. She used tree roots like a ladder, her breathing controlled.
Kaede followed, slower but relentless. Each pull was deliberate. "Conserve strength… don't waste movement," he muttered between breaths.
Raiden moved like a flash of light. He didn't care for rhythm — he burned through stamina like a storm tearing through trees. But every motion, every surge, was powerful.
By the time they reached the plateau, half the candidates had fallen behind. The sound of collapsing bodies echoed faintly below — and the silence that followed said the rest.
Yuki reached the plateau seconds after Haruto, landing with a quiet grunt. Her lungs burned. Sweat dripped from her chin, her vision blurring at the edges.
Haruto was already moving again. No words. Just will.
For a moment, as she steadied herself, Yuki looked up at his back — straight, steady, unwavering.
He doesn't stop… even when his body's screaming.
She clenched her fists tighter. That's why he's ahead.
The forest thinned near the mountain's summit. The path opened into a rocky plain, lit by torches and moonlight. The finish line lay somewhere beyond — hidden behind the rise.
The instructors watched silently from a distant ridge. The silver-haired one murmured, "Now comes the true test. When the body breaks, the spirit decides the victor."
Haruto's breath had become a rhythm of survival. His skin was scraped raw, his shoulders heavy, but his steps didn't slow.
Raiden, still beside him, glanced sideways, panting but grinning. "Still alive?"
"Barely," Haruto replied flatly.
"Good," Raiden said, lightning flickering faintly around his fist. "Then don't you dare stop now."
They broke into a sprint — a reckless, all-out dash over uneven stone.
Each step jarred their bones. The sound of their breaths merged with the forest wind.
Behind them, Yuki and Kaede surged forward, each refusing to give in. Airi moved with quiet resolve, her floral breathing steady, almost serene despite exhaustion.
Minutes stretched into eternity.
The summit gate loomed ahead — stone, massive, ancient, carved with runes that glowed faintly in the moonlight.
Haruto's vision tunneled. He pushed harder, every cell in his body screaming rebellion. Raiden pulled slightly ahead — then stumbled, catching himself with a growl.
Haruto passed him with a controlled stride, eyes fixed on the gate.
He didn't roar. He didn't celebrate. He crossed the finish line in silence — breathless, drenched, trembling, but unbroken.
Behind him, Raiden crossed seconds later, collapsing to one knee, laughing breathlessly. "You— you beat me by a step…"
Haruto exhaled slowly. "A step's enough."
The horn sounded through the mountains — signaling the end of the trial.
Only thirty candidates reached the gate. The rest… remained scattered along the path, too far behind, or unconscious where they fell.
The instructors marked their results silently.
Haruto stood, barely steady. His chest rose and fell in slow, controlled breaths. His gaze drifted to the forest below, where mist coiled like sleeping beasts.
Raiden flopped beside him, arms spread, laughing weakly. "You're a monster, you know that?"
Haruto smirked faintly. "You talk too much for someone dying of exhaustion."
A faint laugh escaped Raiden.
Airi arrived next, moving with the grace of someone who still had control left. Kaede soon after, his expression calm, composed despite the shaking in his hands.
Then Yuki appeared. She crossed the line quietly, her steps measured even in fatigue. Her eyes found Haruto — and for a heartbeat, she just watched him.
Not with rivalry. Not with envy. With admiration.
He never faltered. He didn't waste a single motion. That's strength — not just of body, but of will.
She bowed her head slightly, hiding the faint smile that tugged at her lips.
The instructors began counting. The silver-haired one raised his voice.
"Stage Three — Complete. Thirty candidates remain."
The forest wind carried the announcement down the mountain like an echo of victory and loss intertwined.
Haruto looked toward the dark horizon. His lungs still burned, but deep inside, there was a quiet, growing fire.
If this is the measure of strength… then I'll surpass it.
The moonlight fell upon his face — sharp, focused, unyielding.
And in the silence that followed, the next storm was already gathering.
The forest stretched endlessly, a living maze of towering pines, moss-covered rocks, and twisted roots slick with evening mist. Lanterns from the clearing behind flickered faintly, swallowed quickly by the dense foliage. The remaining thirty candidates lined up, muscles aching from Stage Three, hearts pounding in the cold night air.
The silver-haired instructor stepped forward, voice slicing through the fog like a blade.
"Stage Four and final of The second trail — the steel and will. You have twenty minutes. Reach the temple hidden in this forest. The path is treacherous. Traps await. Nets, covered holes, swinging logs, concealed arrows. One misstep, and your trial ends. The temple bell will ring only once every five minutes — you will not rely on sound alone. Trust your instincts. You may begin."
A low bell rang through the mist, hollow and distant. Candidates shifted, eyes narrowing, muscles tensing. Haruto felt the familiar burn of focus settle over him. Every fiber of his body was awake — his legs still sore, lungs screaming, but his mind sharp as steel.
Raiden cracked his knuckles with a low grin. "Huh. Sound fun. Ready to Lose, Haruto."
Haruto's lips quirked. "Don't get yourself killed trying to beat me."
"Ha! You wish," Raiden shot back, crouching lightly as if ready to launch.
Yuki adjusted her stance, her pale-blue hair clinging to damp skin. She flexed her fingers, eyes scanning the mist ahead, calculating distances, listening to the subtle shifts in wind and the faint rustle of leaves. Airi tightened her grip on her weapon, exhaling steadily, her senses heightened to every scent, every sound, every vibration in the forest. Kaede bent low, breathing controlled, measuring each footstep with deliberate precision.
The candidates surged forward. The forest swallowed them. Visibility dropped to near nothing within moments, mist curling like smoke, wrapping around trunks and roots. The faint glow of the distant lanterns disappeared entirely.
The first traps came almost immediately. A low-hanging log swung across a path. Candidates stumbled, ducked, or slammed into it. Wooden arrows shot from concealed mechanisms, narrowly missing shoulders, cutting hair or grazing skin. Nets dropped from above, tangling unprepared runners, forcing them to struggle just to regain balance. Panic flickered in the eyes of the weaker candidates, and the forest closed around them with suffocating pressure.
Haruto moved with calm precision. His father's lessons replayed in his mind: Feel the forest, trust your senses, not just your eyes. He closed his eyes, centered his breathing, drawing spiritual energy inward. His perception sharpened. Not just sight, not just sound — the subtle pressure of air, the vibration of leaves under his feet, even the distant echoes of mechanisms triggered. Like bats navigating in the dark, his senses mapped the environment around him.
Raiden surged past, cracking a grin. "You're doing great, but you can't beat me. Haruto!"
"We will see," Haruto muttered, eye's closed leaping over a hidden pit. He rolled, landing silently as a snapping net swung past.
Yuki flinched at an arrow that grazed her shoulder. Haruto's sharp senses caught the motion; instinctively, he extended a hand, not to touch her, but as a timing cue — a subtle gesture, a rhythm. Yuki adjusted mid-stride, mirroring his movement. No words, only synchronicity.
Airi nimbly dodged a swinging log, planting her foot with perfect precision to avoid a pit concealed by moss. Her eyes flicked to Kaede, who moved like flowing water — each step deliberate, each balance calculated — unaffected by exhaustion.
The forest seemed alive, testing every nerve. Logs swung faster, nets fell heavier, traps combined unpredictably. Candidates screamed, stumbled, fell, some too exhausted to rise. Only the sharpest instincts and the most honed control would survive.
Haruto eyes still closed, centering himself. He let his spiritual energy radiate in a silent pulse. The faint resistance of the air, the imperceptible shifts in ground tension, even the soundless click of a trap spring — he felt it all. His father's voice echoed: "The forest is not an enemy. It is a guide. Trust it, and it guides you."
Ten minutes passed like a heartbeat. Candidates were bleeding, bruised, and panting. Haruto's path was a fluid sequence of rolls, leaps, and precise footfalls. He weaved through swinging beams, avoided arrow volleys, and sidestepped pits without looking at them directly. Every step was calculated, every breath controlled.
Raiden moved beside him with effortless agility, grinning despite scratches across his arm. "You're too methodical, Haruto! Live a little!"
Haruto shot him a glance, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You might not survive if you're reckless."
"Then you better watch me," Raiden laughed, sprinting ahead — a friendly challenge, a silent spark driving both to push further.
Yuki pressed forward, her gaze sharp. Despite the wound, she adapted, sensing the traps through air currents, vibrations in the ground, the faint echo of mechanisms activating. Haruto's calm rhythm subtly influenced her timing; not aid, not favoritism — only observation, a shared awareness born of instinct and training.
Airi's movements were poetry in motion — each step deliberate, each swing or duck precise. She avoided falling into panic, though exhaustion clawed at her muscles. Kaede, unflinching, flowed through the traps like water, arms and legs moving in perfect harmony with the forest's rhythm.
The final stretch appeared. Mist thickened, visibility nearly zero. The faint outline of the shrine loomed in the distance — barely perceptible, shrouded in gray. One last trap field awaited: a combination of swinging logs, arrow sprays, and covered pits.
The temple bell rings.
Haruto's senses sharpened further. He track the sound of the bell. He exhaled slowly, spiritual energy radiating outward like ripples. Each subtle shift in pressure told him where a trap lay. He leapt, rolled, pivoted, sliding under beams, sidestepping arrows, planting his feet safely across concealed pits. Step by step, he pressed closer, guided by instinct honed by years of training and observation. He rushed towards the direction from where the bell rings.
Raiden gritted his teeth, following every move, his friendly rivalry pushing him beyond fatigue. A sweeping arc of his body avoided two arrows and a log trap simultaneously — but Haruto's calm efficiency kept him fractionally ahead.
Yuki moved behind him, carefully observing the rhythm of his movements, timing her own steps to avoid traps he had already detected. A glance to Haruto's subtle positioning gave her just enough edge to make the final leap across a hidden pit.
Airi and Kaede followed, every motion deliberate and flawless, though each step left them drenched in sweat, scraped, and bruised.
Haruto's foot touched the final stone before the temple steps. A deep inhale. Raiden entered after him.
One by one, Yuki, Kaede, Airi and other candidates arrive. The bell rang faintly — signaling the end of the trial — and the mist swirled, parting like the forest itself acknowledging the survivors.
Fifteen candidates remained. Fifteen hardened, battered, exhausted souls had endured Stage Four. The forest was silent, save for heavy breaths and the faint dripping of moisture from leaves.
The silver-haired instructor stepped forward, voice cold but carrying weight.
"The Second Trail is end. Those who remain have passed Stage Four. You have survived not by luck, but by instincts, discipline, and precision. The others… your journey ends here."
The candidates gathered, wiping blood and sweat, looking at each other with shared exhaustion and relief. Haruto, Raiden, Yuki, Airi, and Kaede — the main five — stood among them, breathing hard, bodies aching, yet minds unbroken.
Raiden cracked a grin, punching lightly at Haruto's shoulder. "You moved too smoothly. Almost unfair."
Haruto only smiled faintly. "You're not far behind."
Yuki exhaled softly, watching the Haruto. Not in awe, but in admiration — in recognisation. Strength, control, and instinct had carried them through the hellish trial.
Airi and Kaede adjusted their postures, steadying their breathing, scanning the forest one last time.
The instructors' eyes swept the survivors, noting every scar, every mark of endurance. The next trial awaited.
The silver-haired instructor stepped forward, his presence commanding instant attention. Every candidate straightened instinctively, the weight of what was coming settling like iron in their chests.
"After a ten-minute break, the Final Trial will commence." His gaze swept the group like a blade. "This is no ordinary test. This is a live-and-death trial. The third trial will take place at the back mountains of this estate, the very region where your first trial began. A vast forest reserved exclusively for the Order's tests."
He stepped closer, lowering his voice so every syllable carried weight. "You will survive for three full days. Three days of wilderness, traps, and everything the forest can throw at you. Only those who endure the entire period will pass. Those who hesitate… those who wish to step back… do it now. There will be no second chance."
A shiver ran through the group. The forest behind the mountains seemed darker somehow, more alive, as if it were already waiting for them. Trees swayed with a ghostly presence, and the wind whispered through the leaves, carrying a sense of challenge — a promise of struggle and survival.
Raiden smirked, cracking his knuckles, but even he didn't speak. Haruto's eyes narrowed, calm but alert, sensing the magnitude of what lay ahead. Yuki, Airi, and Kaede all exchanged silent glances, each absorbing the gravity of the challenge.
The instructor straightened, voice ringing over the field one final time:
"Prepare yourselves. Ten minutes. Then you step into the forest. Survive… or leave your path behind."
And with that, the remaining candidates were left with the tense quiet of the forest and the weight of the trial to come. Every heartbeat thrummed like a drum, echoing the unspoken truth: this would be the hardest test of their lives.
The wind swept across the training ground, carrying the distant roar of the mountains. Shadows stretched long and deep. Somewhere, the first rustle of the forest signaled that the trial was already watching.
The final trial awaited.
To be continued...