The world was still asleep.
No birdsong. No voices. Only the soft rustle of the wind brushing against the thatched roofs, and the calm breathing of the village—like a massive beast slumbering.
Soul opened his eyes before the first ray of sunlight.
His violet right eye opened first, calm and lucid. His orange left eye followed, sharper, as if it, too, was eager to begin.
He lay still for a second, listening.
Today…
His heart gave a small leap—but it wasn't fear. Not only that. It was that strange mix of adrenaline, anticipation… and the very new feeling of finally moving forward.
He got up, washed, then returned to his room, tying his tunic.
— Come on… Slimy. Osso.
He placed a hand on his chest and focused his mana.
— Re-summon Slimy.
— Re-summon Osso.
Two violet glows opened like tiny invisible doors. Slimy appeared first, immediately bouncing onto the bed.
— Ploïm!
Osso reassembled right after, his bones snapping neatly into place. He stood straight, perfectly still, like a servant awaiting orders.
Two violet windows appeared in the corner of Soul's vision, crisp—almost pleased.
[Invocation: Slime LV1]
Uses: 2 / 10
[Necromancy: Skeleton LV1]
Uses: 2 / 10
Soul smiled.
— We're making progress.
A Royal Breakfast (with gelatinous and skeletal assistance)
When Soul went downstairs, he didn't just set out three plates.
Today was a feast.
With Slimy balancing fruit on his head like a living tray, and Osso carefully lining up the bowls (far too carefully), the kitchen took on an almost… unreal atmosphere.
The table was set:
Three bowls of steaming hot milk.Three slices of perfectly toasted bread.
Colorful stacks of fruit:
For Soul: soursop berries and cherries (his favorite—tart and sweet).
For Lynea: cytheres and papaya (sunny fragrance, tender flesh).
For Aegis: soursop and guava (strong, almost wild flavors).
A large pitcher of fresh fruit juice.Eggs still glossy with butter.Crispy bacon.Thick waffles, ready to be drenched.And pancakes stacked like a small tower.
When Lynea entered, she froze—mouth slightly open—her gaze sliding from the feast… to the red Slime gently bouncing… then to the Skeleton adjusting a knife so it sat at exactly the same distance from the edge as the others.
Aegis stepped in behind her, his expression changing in a single second from half-asleep to I am witnessing a miracle.
— …This is a banquet, Lynea whispered.
Soul scratched his cheek, embarrassed but proud.
— Slimy and Osso helped.
— And… I wanted to start the day right.
Aegis stared at Osso.
— He… set the table?
Osso nodded very seriously.
Slimy bounced and landed in the center of the table like a mascot.
— Ploïm!
Lynea laughed lightly—a laugh that sounded like release.
— Well…
— If a Skeleton is cooking in this house, I suppose we're living an interesting life.
They ate together, and for once, worries didn't take up all the space. There was pride in his parents' eyes. And in Soul's heart… a simple warmth.
The Villagers Adjust
On the way to school, Soul walked with Slimy and Osso as if it were completely natural.
And, to his surprise, the village was starting to accept it too.
People didn't automatically recoil anymore. The murmurs weren't only fearful whispers. Some even greeted him.
Bron Shatter, passing near a fence, gave him a nod.
— Drasil. Your summons are holding up. Good.
Torben South, the blacksmith—thick apron on, smelling of hot metal—let out a rough laugh.
— Hey kid! That skeleton of yours
—if he ever wants to learn how to hit an anvil, I'll take him as an apprentice!
Osso inclined his head, as if storing the information.
Lirena Moonlark, the herbalist, waved gently, smiling.
— Your Slime is adorable… just keep him away from my plants, all right?
Slimy bounced and seemed to "hold himself back" beside Soul, almost offended.
Soul smiled—then stopped when a clear, sing-song voice called out.
— Hey, little hero! Got a minute?
A woman stood by the road, a bright smile on her face.
She wore a sand-colored cloak, light and dusty, as if she'd crossed countless roads. Bracelets chimed at her wrists. A massive bag rested beside her, with several crates on the ground.
She had sharp eyes, a sun-marked face, and the posture of someone always on the move.
— I'm Sira the Nomad, she said.
— And I've only got two hands… but way too much to set up.
Soul blinked.
— I… I'm on my way to school.
— I'll steal two minutes, she promised, raising her hands.
— Just to set up my stall.
Soul hesitated, then looked at Osso.
— Osso, help her.
Osso grabbed a crate and carried it as if it weighed nothing. Slimy slid under another crate and pushed it along by bouncing—surprisingly effective.
Sira stared for a second.
— …All right.
— I think I want help all the time now.
In moments, the stall took shape: a stretched canopy, shelves, neatly arranged items—vials, ribbons, tools, small talismans, leather pouches, spices.
When it was done, Sira sat on a crate and exhaled.
— Thanks. Seriously.
Soul smiled.
— Where are you from?
She tilted her head, gazing toward the horizon as if seeing miles of road.
— Everywhere.
— But lately… from the south. Sand roads and markets that smell like cinnamon.
She looked at him with amusement.
— And you
—what's your name?
— Soul Drasil.
— Drasil… she repeated, as if the name meant something.
— Interesting.
She winked.
— Come see me sometime. Heroes always need a good merchant… or good advice.
Soul nodded, intrigued, then headed off.
She's strange… but not dangerous.I think.
Professor Rotation: Today's Mission
n the courtyard, the atmosphere was different.
The teachers had laid out crates. Leather. Metal. Sheaths. Weapons that didn't look like training sticks.
Bron spoke.
— Listen carefully!
— Today, we're not "pretending."
— The outside zones… kill.
A heavy silence.
Bron pointed at the crates.
— Every student will receive a weapon suited to their class.
— Real steel.
— And for archers: real arrows… not sticky practice arrows.
A cold murmur ran through the ranks.
Kael went pale.
— …Real ones?
Halden, at the back, grunted:
— If you miss, you hit your friend. So you don't miss.
Bron continued, merciless:
— And if you run into a monster… you don't "defeat" it.
— You kill it.
— Otherwise it kills you.
Soul felt Mira stiffen beside him. Ryen clenched his jaw like he wanted to smile, but it was forced. Èze didn't look away—he drank in every word.
Soul didn't need new weapons. His artifacts were already there, and everyone knew it.
Bron unrolled the mission parchment (same groups, rotating professors). Then announced:
Group 1: Soul, Èze, Mira, Kael, Ryen — Rocky Clearing: Minor Wolves
Professor: Bron Shatter
Ryen clenched his fist. Kael breathed deeply. Mira swallowed. Èze smiled like he was heading to a festival. Soul felt his heart accelerate.
Group 2: Zeke, Garlick, Britney, Zara, Luck — Western Forest: Slimes
Professor: Master Fenrick
Zeke grimaced. Slimes felt "less glorious" to him.
Group 3: Liora, Jorren, Selwin, Mavis, Kellan — Marsh Edge: Slimes & Giant Frogs
Professor: Kyria
Group 4: Talia, Bram, Ilya, Noren, Flona — Cemetery: Skeletons
Professor: Lady Nyxmar
Group 5: Vek, Harl, Nyssa, Olin, Serah — Windy Hill: Elemental Spirits
Professor: Master Aelhynn
Group 6: Elian, Farra, Milo, Lend, Sera — Ruins: Monstrous Rats & Bats
Professor: Darsa
Group 7: Garrik, Yna, Pol, Thaliah, Brod — Underbrush: Aggressive Plants & Roots
Professor: Savi
Group 8: Liri, Henn, Pavin, Toriel, Joma — Forest Edge: Fast Boars & Giant Hares
Professor: Rudolf
Group 9: Dorn, Mel, Ila, Renn, Feya — Flowered Plain: Giant Insects
Professor: Halden
Group 10: Hana, Trenn, Vali, Sion, Orel — Ravine: Minor Golems
Professor: Irilla Dawnstar
From afar, Irilla watched them like a queen judging an army.
Bron rolled up the parchment.
— Group 1, with me.
— Let's see if you can still breathe when fangs close around you.
Rocky Clearing — The Smell of Blood Before Blood
The rocky clearing was dry and sharp, like the earth had been chewed up by centuries of combat. Boulders jutted from the ground like teeth. The wind whistled cold, metallic.
Bron knelt, pressed two fingers into the dust.
— Look.
He showed them tracks: prints, claw marks, crushed grass.
— A wolf doesn't walk. It patrols.
— It doesn't just hunt. It chooses.
Kael asked, voice low:
— And us… what are we?
Bron smiled without joy.
— Today?
— You're prey learning how to bite.
They followed the tracks, breath held, until they saw… five minor wolves.
Minor Wolves : Not Beasts—Killers
They were bigger than normal wolves—heavy shoulders, lean muscle, shining fangs. Their eyes held that mana-glow that looked like hunger.
And then the colors: gray, black, mottled… and impossible shades: blue, red, violet, green.
Èze murmured:
— We attack?
Bron nodded slowly.
— Yes. But remember:
— A wolf isn't a Slime.
— It feints. It bites. It goes for the throat.
— And remember: to the death.
— A wounded wolf gets more dangerous.
— A living wolf… comes back behind you.
A howl tore through the air.
Five more wolves burst out, drawn by their packmates.
Ten.
Soul's stomach tightened. Mira's fingers trembled slightly.
Ryen muttered:
— At least… we don't have to look for the other five.
Bron didn't move.
— Split up. Two each.
— And you listen to MY advice, or I bury you.
They each took two wolves:
Mira: gray + black
Èze: gray-brown + black-white
Kael: gray-white + black-gray
Ryen: blue + red
Soul: violet + green
Bron's instructions were fast, clear—life-saving.
— Mira, use the terrain. Rocks are shields, no panic, no waste—block angles.
— Kael, shoot to slow, then finish, don't shoot straight. Wolves anticipate.
— Ryen, keep your guard. You've got a new skill—use it.
— Èze, the halberd is perfect… but get surrounded and you die.
— Soul… alternate your weapons and your summons aren't decorations. Put them to work.
Soul nodded, throat dry.
— Understood.
Mira vs Two Wolves
Mira didn't like this clearing.
The rocks broke up her lines of sight. The wind whistled between the stones, making it feel as though something was whispering her name. The ground was dry and hard—perfect for slipping if she panicked.
In front of her stood two minor wolves.
The first: gray, broad, patient.The second: black, smaller, faster, its eyes locked on her throat.
They didn't growl.They waited.
Mira gripped her magic staff with both hands. At her belt hung a real dagger, cold against her hip. She had never used it for anything but cutting plants.
I'm a mage.I'm not made for this.
The black wolf attacked without warning.
It lunged low, aiming for her leg.
— FLASH!
Light exploded at point-blank range. The wolf howled, blinded, rolling across the ground. But the gray wolf seized the opening immediately and charged head-on.
Mira retreated too fast—her heel struck a stone.
She almost fell.
Fear hit her like an icy blade.
If I fall, I die.
She planted her staff into the ground.
— MINOR STONE!
A block of rock burst up in front of her just in time. The gray wolf's fangs slammed into it with a sharp crack. The stone fractured.
Mira was already gasping.
The black wolf shook its head, regaining its senses.
They were learning.
— Don't waste.— Control the space.
Bron's voice echoed in her memory.
Mira forced herself to breathe.
The black wolf circled left. The gray moved right.
They're trying to scissor me.
— FIRE WALL!
Flames surged up in an arc, splitting the area. The black wolf recoiled instinctively, but the gray hesitated only a heartbeat before leaping through, its fur singed.
It was too close.
Mira felt her heart explode in her chest.
— ICE NEEDLE!
The spike pierced the gray wolf's foreleg. It crashed down hard, screaming in pain.
But it was still alive.
And the black wolf charged again.
Mira raised her hand, panic surging.
— WATER BUBBLES!
Spheres of water wrapped around the black wolf, slowing it—but not enough. It forced through, growling, and leapt anyway.
Something broke inside Mira.
Enough.
— LIGHT SHADOW!
Her silhouette doubled for an instant. The wolf bit empty air and skidded across the ground.
Mira didn't hesitate anymore.
She ran.
She drew her dagger.
She drove the blade into the black wolf's throat with all her strength.
Hot blood splashed over her hands.
The wolf thrashed, clawed the air, tried to bite once more… then its movements slowed, became spasms, and stopped.
Mira dropped to her knees.
— … I… she whispered.
But the fight wasn't over.
The gray wolf was still crawling, dragging its shattered leg, fangs snapping at nothing. It was no longer a majestic predator.
It was a wounded thing.But still deadly.
Mira rose slowly.
Her hands shook.
— I'm sorry… she murmured.
She lifted her staff.
— GALE!
The wind hurled the wolf into a rock with brutal force. Bones cracked.
The wolf whimpered.
It was still breathing.
Nausea surged up Mira's throat.
If I look away… it'll get back up.
She stepped closer, one step at a time.
She raised her hand one last time.
— ICE NEEDLE.
This time, she aimed for the heart.
The spike pierced the ribcage. The wolf stiffened… then collapsed for good.
Silence fell.
Mira stood there, covered in blood, unable to breathe properly.
She had killed.
Twice.
Violet windows opened before her, almost indifferent.
[Flash LV1 → LV2]
[Minor Stone LV1 → LV2]
[Gale LV1 → LV2]
[Water Bubbles LV1 → LV2]
[Ice Needle LV1 → LV2]
[Fire Wall LV1 → LV2]
[Light Shadow LV1 → LV2]
Mira didn't look at the notifications.
She stared at her hands.
— … They're shaking, she murmured.
She clenched them into fists with all her strength.
Then she lifted her head.
Her gaze had changed.
She was no longer just a student.She was a mage who had survived.
And deep inside her, a painful certainty had taken root:
Magic doesn't protect you from everything.Sometimes… it forces you to kill.
Kael vs Two Wolves
Kael had felt like his throat had been dry ever since they set foot in the rocky clearing.
The air smelled of dust, sun-warmed stone… and something far harsher: cold sweat, fear, the beast.
In his hands, his bow was no longer a "training" weapon.It was a real bow—string pulled tight to the brink, heavy metal-tipped arrows.He felt their weight like a verdict in his quiver.
Two minor wolves stared him down.
The first: gray-white, thick and massive, with pale eyes and a scar across its muzzle.The second: black-gray, leaner and more twitchy, its gaze far too intelligent for a simple animal.
They weren't growling.They were calculating.
Kael stepped back. Then another step.
If I panic, I get torn apart.If I miss… someone dies.
He clenched his teeth.
Bron had said: "You don't miss."
The black-gray wolf attacked first.
It sprang low—very low—aiming for his legs. A predator trying to take him down, then finish the job.
Kael pivoted, planted one foot on a rock, and fired point-blank.
The arrow shot like lightning and buried itself in the wolf's shoulder.
A sharp, tearing yelp.
But the wolf didn't stop. It kept coming through the pain, jaws open.
Kael felt panic bite into him from the inside.
No. Not now.
He backed up again, his spine brushing stone, and nocked a second arrow.
— Rapid Shot!
Mana slid into his arms. His breathing aligned. His movements turned automatic.
Two arrows snapped off in quick succession:
The first hit the black-gray wolf's front leg, forcing it to skid.The second… aimed for the neck.
The wolf tried to dodge—too late.
The arrow sank into the exact spot where the fur was thinner.
The scream didn't even fully come out.
The wolf toppled, thrashed for a second… then its body went slack, like a puppet with its strings cut.
Kael froze.
He had just killed.
His heart hammered so loudly he felt like everyone could hear it.
But he didn't have the right to stop.
The gray-white wolf had been waiting for this moment.
It lunged the instant Kael's attention slipped for a fraction of a second—
A mass of muscle and fangs.
Kael heard its breath, felt the heat of its mouth, the saliva spraying.
He stepped back… and his heel slid on loose gravel.
He lost his balance.
The world slowed.
I'm going to die.
And then a voice rang in his memory like an order:
"An archer doesn't retreat in a straight line."
Kael twisted, rolled sideways—and felt the wolf's teeth snap shut where his throat should've been.
He pushed up halfway, on one knee, and nocked an arrow with shaking hands.
The wolf was already charging again.
Kael aimed for the snout.
The arrow flew… and struck.
Not deep enough.
The wolf howled—but it didn't stop.
It was going to reach him.
Kael released his bow with one hand, grabbed a second arrow and set it onto the string without even looking.
His fingers were nearly bleeding; the bowstring burned his skin.
He aimed lower.
The heart.
The wolf leapt.
Kael loosed at the last instant.
The arrow drove into its chest, just under the throat—right where the mana pulsed.
The wolf crashed to the ground two meters from him, convulsing violently.
Kael crawled backward, unable to breathe.
The wolf… was still alive. Its paws scraped the dust, its eyes still searching for Kael.
Kael felt nausea. Revulsion. Fear.
But also a brutal, horrible clarity:
If I don't finish it… it gets back up. And it kills me.
He picked up his bow. Nocked one last arrow.
His hand shook so badly the tip visibly trembled.
He stepped closer, slow—step by step—like every step made him older.
The wolf tried to rise.
Kael didn't wait.
He fired.
The arrow entered the eye and punched through the skull.
The body stiffened once… then collapsed for good.
Silence.
Only the wind.
Kael stood there with his bow lowered, breath uneven.
His legs were trembling.
He stared at the two dead wolves.
I… really did that.
A violet window opened before him—cold and bright.
[Skill: Rapid Shot LV1 → LV2]
[Level Up: 1 → 2]
Kael didn't smile.
He just closed his eyes for a second.
Then he opened them again—and his gaze had changed.
— …I'm alive, he whispered.
And for the first time since the beginning… he understood what "getting stronger" truly meant.
Ryen vs Two Wolves
Blood pounded in Ryen's temples.
He gripped his short sword with both hands, the real blade cold against his damp palm. This was no longer a drill. No longer "touch to win."
In front of him stood two minor wolves.
The first: blue-furred, long-limbed, far too fast—its body built to strike and vanish.The second: red-furred, massive and broad, breathing heavily like a beast that had never learned fear.
The blue one was already circling him.The red one advanced slowly, confident in its strength.
Ryen drew a deep breath.
One at a time. Or I die.
The blue wolf attacked first.
It almost vanished from Ryen's sight, bursting in from the side, aiming for his throat.
— CROSS GUARD!
Ryen crossed his blade just in time.The impact was brutal.
His arms shuddered, his feet skidded in the dust—but he held.
Fangs snapped just centimeters from his neck.
The red wolf seized the opening immediately.
It charged, head lowered, like a living battering ram.
Ryen didn't have time to retreat.
— SLASH!
He struck diagonally, aiming for the red wolf's shoulder. The blade bit deep into flesh, tearing out a bestial howl… but the wolf didn't stop.
It slammed into Ryen head-on.
Ryen was thrown to the ground, the air blasted from his lungs. His vision swam for a heartbeat.
No… not like this…
The red wolf raised a paw, ready to crush him.
The blue wolf leapt at the same time—perfect coordination.
Death came from both sides.
Ryen screamed inside his head.
— CROSS GUARD!
He raised his blade overhead with everything he had.
The red wolf's paw struck steel. The shock tore through his shoulders, but the blow was deflected. Claws shredded his tunic instead of his chest.
The blue wolf bit.
Pain exploded along Ryen's forearm.
He cried out—but didn't let go.
Blood flowed.
Rage surged.
You got me… but you're not done.
He drove a violent knee into the blue wolf's snout. Not enough to kill it—enough to force it back.
Ryen staggered to his feet.
His breathing was ragged. His arm burned.
The blue wolf bled from the muzzle, but its eyes still shone.The red wolf limped slightly—yet kept advancing.
I can't retreat anymore.
Ryen locked onto the red wolf.
— You first.
He stepped forward on purpose.
The red wolf charged, certain of its superiority.
Ryen waited.
A fraction of a second too long—then he pivoted sharply to the side.
— SLASH!
The blade plunged deep into the flank, where the ribs part with every breath.
Ryen pulled with all his strength.
A horrific scream ripped through the air.
The red wolf collapsed, convulsing, its paws clawing at the dust.
It was still alive.
Ryen raised his sword, hands shaking.
The blue wolf attacked from behind.
Ryen didn't have time to turn.
He lifted his weapon instinctively behind him.
— CROSS GUARD!
The block was sloppy—but enough to avoid a fatal bite. Fangs tore into his shoulder; pain detonated.
Ryen screamed.
He spun as he struck.
— SLASH!
The blade cut clean through the blue wolf's throat.
Blood sprayed—hot, sticky.
The blue wolf took two steps, almost surprised… then collapsed, dead before it hit the ground.
Ryen stood motionless, gasping.
But behind him… the red wolf was still moving.
It crawled.
It was still breathing.
Ryen felt his stomach twist.
If I leave it… it'll get back up.
He approached slowly.
Each step felt like it weighed a ton.
The red wolf tried to bite again—weak, but still dangerous.
Ryen raised his sword.
— I'm sorry… he whispered.
He drove the blade straight into its heart.
The body stiffened once… then went slack for good.
Silence.
Ryen stood there, covered in blood, arm wounded, his sword buried in the dirt.
His legs trembled.
He had killed.
Twice.
A violet window appeared before his blurred vision.
[Skill: Slash LV2 → LV3]
[Skill: Cross Guard LV1 → LV2]
A second window followed.
[Level: 2 → 3]
Ryen didn't smile.
He slowly pulled his sword free from the body, wiped it on the grass, then straightened.
His gaze was no longer that of a child.
— …I held on, he murmured.
And for the first time, he truly understood what it meant to fight just to stay alive.
Èze vs Two Wolves
Èze felt the real weight of his halberd the moment he stepped into the clearing.
This was no longer a training weapon.The shaft was heavy, the blade sharpened, the tip made to pierce.Every mistake would be paid for in flesh.
In front of him stood two minor wolves.
The first: gray-brown, broad, powerful, used to frontal charges.The second: black and white, faster, more mobile, already searching for an angle.
Èze inhaled slowly.
Two enemies.A long weapon.If I let them get inside my range… I die.
Bron had told him:"A halberd isn't meant for retreating. It's meant to decide where the enemy dies."
The black-and-white wolf attacked first.
It lunged low, trying to slip under his guard and reach his legs.
Èze pivoted instantly, sweeping the ground with the butt of the halberd. The wolf was forced to adjust mid-leap, losing its momentum.
That was enough.
Èze stepped in sharply and struck with the side blade.
The halberd carved deep into the black-and-white wolf's shoulder. Blood burst out. The wolf howled—but it didn't fall.
The gray-brown wolf charged at once.
A mass of muscle and fangs.
Èze retreated half a step—no more—and planted the halberd's tip into the ground to stabilize it.
The wolf slammed in.
At the last instant, Èze twisted the shaft, deflecting the charge, then struck in reverse.
— Broken Half-Moon!
The blade traced a perfect arc.
It ripped open the gray-brown wolf's flank from end to end, tearing flesh down to the bone.
The wolf crashed heavily to the ground, whimpering, its paws clawing at the dirt.
It was alive.
And dangerous.
The black-and-white wolf, wounded but furious, tried to seize the moment. It leapt straight for Èze's throat.
Èze did not retreat.
He slid his hand along the shaft, shortened his grip, and used the haft like a blunt weapon.
He struck the wolf's skull mid-leap.
A dry crack echoed.
The wolf hit the ground, stunned.
Èze didn't hesitate.
He raised the halberd and drove the tip straight into the beast's throat.
Blood burst out—hot, thick.
The wolf struggled for a second… then went still.
Silence.
Èze turned to the gray-brown wolf.
It was still crawling, jaws open, eyes bloodshot. Every breath spilled more red onto the dust.
Èze clenched his teeth.
— Sorry… he murmured, without emotion.
He raised the halberd with both hands.
And brought it straight down toward the heart.
The blade plunged deep. The wolf stiffened, released one last hoarse breath… then collapsed for good.
Èze stood motionless, halberd planted in the ground, breathing slowly.
He looked at the two bodies.
He had killed.
Twice.
A violet window appeared before him.
[Skill: Broken Half-Moon LV1 → LV2]
[Level: 1 → 2]
Èze briefly closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, his gaze was calmer. Harder.
— Technique saves lives, he murmured.— Especially mine.
He wiped the halberd's blade on the grass, straightened up, and rejoined the others.
Today, Èze was no longer just a student.
He had become a fighter who knew how to finish a fight.
Soul vs Two Wolves
The world seemed to close in around Soul.
The rocky clearing was no longer a training ground.It had become a sealed arena—a natural trap of stone, dust, and animal scent.
In front of him: two minor wolves.
The first was green—smaller, cleverer. Its movements were unpredictable, almost silent.The second was violet—massive, stocky, wrapped in a heavier aura. That one didn't bother with feints. It advanced to break things.
Soul felt the weight of his artifacts.
At his left hip, the katana Kage no Kizuna—thin, precise, demanding.
Across his back, the scythe Shinigami's Embrace—heavy, dark, built to reap.
Behind him, Slimy bounced nervously.To his right, Osso stood straight, already in a defensive stance.
Bron's calm words still echoed in his mind:
"Alternate. Don't cling to a single weapon. And let your summons take what a human shouldn't have to endure."
Soul inhaled.
— Osso… front.
— Slimy… left.
The wolves attacked at once.
The green wolf nearly vanished from Soul's sight, circling at a frightening speed.The violet wolf charged straight ahead, powerful, seeking impact.
Soul drew the katana.
The violet leapt.
Soul sidestepped, but the force of the strike slammed into Osso head-on.
[Osso – HP: 40 → 27]
The skeleton staggered—but held.
The green wolf burst out behind Soul, jaws wide.
— Now!
Slimy launched himself forward, smashing into the green wolf at full force. The impact sent it spinning sideways, rolling through the dust.
Soul turned instantly and struck with the katana.
The blade sliced into the green wolf's thigh. Blood sprayed. The wolf howled… but didn't stop.
The violet wolf charged again.
Soul felt the space closing in.
Change.
He sheathed the katana in a sharp motion and drew the scythe.
The sensation was immediate—heavier, slower… but commanding.
The violet wolf attacked again.
Soul swung in a wide arc.
The scythe's blade carved deep into the violet wolf's shoulder, tearing flesh and muscle free. The wolf was hurled aside, rolling violently.
But it rose again.
Still standing.
The green wolf, wounded, made a desperate lunge for Soul's throat.
Osso intercepted, taking the bite.
[Osso – HP: 27 → 15]
The dry crack of bitten bone sent a shiver through Soul.
Something broke inside him.
— Enough.
He pivoted hard, using the scythe's momentum.
The blade caught the green wolf at the exact moment it tried to rise.
The motion wasn't elegant.It was effective.
The green wolf was lifted for a heartbeat… then crashed down heavily, its throat torn open.
It tried to rise.It couldn't.
Soul didn't look away.
He stepped closer, planted the scythe against the ground… and drew the katana.
— Sorry…
He cut cleanly.
The body slackened for good.
Silence.
But the fight wasn't over.
The violet wolf rose slowly, limping but still dangerous. Its eyes burned with rage.
It charged one last time.
Soul moved to meet it.
This time, he alternated.
Scythe to keep distance.Katana to strike fast.
He blocked an attack with the scythe's shaft, pivoted, slashed the flank with the katana.The wolf still snapped, grazing Soul's leg.
Pain exploded.
Soul clenched his teeth.
He slipped behind the wolf, hauled the scythe with all his strength—and reaped.
The blade plunged deep into its back and burst out through its chest.
The violet wolf collapsed, gasping, still trying to bite the air.
Soul looked at it.
He saw fear in its eyes.
The same fear he had felt so many times.
He raised the scythe one last time.
— Rest.
He brought it down.
The body stiffened… then went still.
The wind exhaled again.
Soul stood motionless, blood-soaked, arms trembling, both weapons hanging at his sides.
He had killed.
Twice.
A violet window opened before him.
[Soul DRASIL]
Level: 3
XP: 150 / 300
He immediately recalled his summons.
[Slimy – recalled]
[Osso – recalled]
Osso vanished in silence. Slimy too.
Soul was alone.
He drew a deep breath… but the air felt heavier than before.
This wasn't training.This wasn't a simulation.
This was the real world.
When he rejoined the others, his gaze had changed.
Not harder.Not colder.
Sharper.
And deep inside him, one certainty had taken root:
If he wanted to survive… he would have to keep killing.
And that thought frightened him more than the wolves ever had.
Injuries, Levels… and Praise
When the adrenaline fades, the truth remains
Silence fell over the rocky clearing.
A heavy, almost painful silence, broken only by the uneven breathing of the children still standing.
When the adrenaline finally drained from his body, Soul felt the pain hit all at once.His leg burned where the violet wolf had grazed him. His arms were still shaking from constantly switching between katana and scythe. His heart was racing far too fast.
Around him, his friends weren't doing any better.
Mira stood frozen, her eyes locked on her hands stained with dried blood. She rubbed them against her tunic again and again, as if she could erase what she had done.
Kael had dropped to one knee, his bow resting on the ground in front of him. He breathed deeply, trying to steady his still-trembling hands. Absentmindedly, he counted his arrows… two were missing.
Ryen leaned heavily on his sword, the blade planted in the dirt. His wounded arm was still bleeding, but he seemed barely aware of it, too focused on staring at the wolves he had slain.
Èze remained standing, halberd planted before him, unmoving. His gaze swept the surroundings on instinct, as if he were still expecting another attack.
Bron approached.
He didn't speak right away.
He studied each of them carefully, noting every posture, every breath taken too fast, every injury.
— Light bites…
— Deep but clean claw wounds…
— Mana almost depleted for some of you…
He nodded slowly.
— You're alive.
He placed a firm hand on Ryen's shoulder.
— Your guard saved your life. Without it, you'd be dead.
Then he turned to Mira.
— You held your ground and controlled the space.
— That's what separates a living mage… from a dead one.
Kael lifted his head slightly.
— I hesitated at the end…
Bron shook his head.
— You finished the fight.
— Hesitation is leaving while the enemy is still breathing.
His gaze finally settled on Soul.
— Good alternation between your weapons.
— Good use of your summons.
— You weren't trying to look impressive. You were trying to survive.
Soul simply nodded.
Then—
A low, rumbling growl echoed through the clearing.
Deeper. Heavier than anything they had heard so far.
Bron straightened instantly.
— Fall back.
A massive silhouette emerged from behind a split boulder.
Larger than a typical minor wolf.Broader. Denser.An invisible pressure crushed the air around it.
A Minor Alpha Wolf.
Its fur was marked with old scars. Its fangs were long and yellowed, and its eyes reflected a cold, calculating intelligence.
Mira felt her legs weaken.
— That's… not normal…
Bron gave a faint smile.
— No.— And you have no chance against it.
The alpha wolf growled… then charged.
Bron moved.
A single step.
A single strike.
He unleashed a technique without a shout, without unnecessary flourish. The air seemed to compress—then explode.
[Technique: Fangbreaker — High Rank]
Soul felt the pressure slam into his chest like an invisible wave. The ground vibrated beneath his feet.
The alpha wolf didn't even have time to howl.
Its body was cut cleanly and hurled several meters away before crashing heavily against the rock, motionless.
Silence.
An even deeper silence than before.
Kael whispered, stunned:
— … In one blow…
Ryen clenched his fists.
— That's the difference…
Bron calmly sheathed his weapon.
— Remember that image.
— Not to imitate me.
— But to understand what awaits you out there.
He turned back to them.
— Today, you faced death.
— And it didn't take you.
At that exact moment, only Soul saw a violet window open before his eyes.
[Soul DRASIL]
Level: 3
XP: 150 / 300
He blinked, surprised.
Around him, Mira, Kael, Ryen, and Èze instinctively closed their eyes for a second.
They felt something change.A warmth in their chests.A new sense of solidity.
Mira opened her eyes, shocked.
— … I felt something.
Kael took a deep breath.
— Same… like my body's lighter.
Ryen nodded slowly.
— I leveled up.
Èze, calmer as ever, simply nodded.
— Me too.
Bron watched their reactions and nodded.
— That's how the world rewards you.
— Not with words… but with progress.
Then he turned his back on them.
Return & the Director's Words
The return to the academy was made in silence.
No one spoke.
Footsteps echoed faintly along the stone path, mingling with the rustle of wind through the trees. Clothes were stained with blood—some still wet, others already dark and dry. The weapons—real weapons—felt heavier than they had on the way out.
Soul walked at the center of the group, his gaze straight ahead, his mind elsewhere.Behind him, no one laughed.No one bragged.
Even Zeke and his group, glimpsed at a distance, no longer wore their usual arrogance. They walked with their heads lowered, as if they had finally understood that the world was not a game.
At the academy gates, the doors stood wide open.
The teachers were waiting.
Irilla Dawnstar stood at the center of the courtyard.
Upright. Imposing. Silent.
Her gaze swept over the groups one by one. She did not immediately ask whether everyone had returned.
She counted.
When she was certain no student was missing, she took a deep breath… and spoke.
— Today, she said in a clear voice, you stepped beyond the protected bounds of this academy.
The silence was absolute.
— You did not "fight."
— You survived.
She paused.
— Some of you took a life for the first time.
— Others learned what it means to be responsible for the lives of your comrades.
Her eyes rested on several wounded students, hastily bandaged.
— What you felt—— fear, disgust, anger, emptiness—— is normal.
She stepped forward.
— But remember this:
— strength is not feeling nothing.
— Strength is acting despite what you feel.
A shiver ran down Soul's spine.
Irilla slowly turned her head toward the teachers.
— All groups have returned.
— No student was lost.
A murmur of relief spread through the courtyard.
— That is a success.
— But do not confuse success with victory.
She raised her hand slightly.
— From today onward, external combat classes will continue.
— Groups will remain supervised.
— Missions will evolve.
Her gaze fixed on the younger students.
— Some of you may hesitate to continue.
She let the words sink in.
— You have that right.
— The outside world forces no one to become an adventurer.
Then her expression hardened.
— But if you choose to move forward…
— then you must accept every step, every decision, every consequence.
She stepped back.
— Go home.
— Treat your wounds.
— Sleep.
— Tomorrow…
— training resumes.
She turned on her heel, her cape fluttering lightly behind her.
The teachers began to disperse the students.
Soul remained still for a moment.
He looked around him.
The faces were no longer those of children playing at becoming strong.
They were the faces of apprentices confronting a world that does not forgive.
And for the first time since arriving in this world…Soul understood that this academy was not there to protect them.
It was there to teach them how to survive.
Dinner, Stories… and Collapse
The Drasil house was lit from within when Soul crossed the threshold.
A warm light. Steady.Nothing like the biting wind of the rocky clearing, nor the metallic smell of blood.
And yet… something felt unfamiliar.
Lynea was the first to look up.
She froze.
His clothes were damaged. Stained.Not much. But enough.
— Soul…
Aegis stood up immediately, stepped closer, placed his hands on his son's shoulders and gently turned him to check for wounds.
— Are you bleeding?
— Not much, Soul answered.
— Nothing serious.
It wasn't a lie.But it wasn't the whole truth either.
They sat down at the table.
Dinner had been ready for some time: a hot stew, bread still warm, sliced fruit. A comforting smell—almost painful in how sharply it contrasted with what he had just lived through.
No one ate right away.
Lynea spoke softly.
— Tell us.
Soul inhaled.
He began slowly.The departure.The real weapons.The wolves.
He didn't give every detail.He didn't speak of the slashed throat.Nor of the wolf's eyes just before the end.
But he said what mattered.
— It wasn't like before.
— It wasn't an exercise.
— They… they didn't back down.
Aegis clenched his jaw.
— And you?
Soul hesitated for a fraction of a second.
— I alternated my weapons.
— I used Slimy and Osso.
— And… I won.
The word hung in the air.
Lynea lowered her head slightly.
— You killed.
It wasn't an accusation.It was a fact.
Soul nodded.
— Yes.
Silence settled in.
Then Aegis placed his hand flat on the table.
— Then listen to me carefully.
Soul raised his eyes.
— What you did today…
— you must neither boast about it, nor blindly hate yourself for it.
He paused.
— You survived.
— And you protected those who were with you.
Lynea continued, her voice more fragile:
— But if one day you no longer feel anything when you talk about this…
— then you must tell us.
Soul felt his throat tighten.
— I still feel it, he murmured.
Lynea stood and placed a hand against his cheek.
— Good.
They finally ate.
The stew was good. Too good. Each bite seemed to pull Soul a little farther away from the clearing… but not completely.
When the meal was over, Soul stood up.
— I'm going upstairs.
— Go, Aegis said.
— We're here.
In his room, the silence was different.
Not hostile. But heavy.
Soul sat on his bed, slowly removed his boots, then his weapons. The katana. The scythe.
He set them down carefully, as if they might still bite.
He lay back.
The moment his head touched the pillow, exhaustion crashed down on him—brutal, overwhelming.
His muscles released all at once.His eyelids grew heavy.
And yet the images returned.
The fangs.The blood.The moment he understood he had to finish it.
His heart raced one last time.
Then his body gave in.
Soul fell into a deep sleep, dreamless—a heavy, necessary, almost unconscious sleep.
But in the calm of the night, one thing was certain:
The world had not broken him.It had only shown him its true face.
And tomorrow…he would have to keep walking within it.
End of Chapter 7.