The morning sun was high by the time the next round of tests began, casting its harsh light over the training yard.
Despite their exhaustion from the day before, the recruits stood ready, their expressions a mix of determination and unease.
Elias shuffled in among them, his mind still turning over the results of the previous day. He had survived the first tests without drawing too much attention, but the stakes were only getting higher.
Instructor Varra stood at the front of the group, her scarred face impassive as she addressed them. "Today's tests will push you further. Strength, agility, and endurance are crucial for any hunter, but so are precision, perception, and, most importantly, willpower. Without those, you'll crumble the moment the enemy presses you."
The group was led into another facility, this one darker and colder than the previous. The air seemed heavier, almost oppressive, as they entered a long, dimly lit hall lined with various equipment.
At the far end of the room stood a man clad in a long black coat, his eyes glinting with an unsettling sharpness.
"That's Alaric," someone whispered near Elias. "A mentalist. They say he can break you with a single thought."
Elias didn't respond but felt a shiver run down his spine. Alaric's presence was suffocating, even from a distance.
Precision and Perception
The first two tests focused on precision and perception.
Instructors handed out lightweight crossbows to each recruit and directed them to aim at moving targets that whizzed across the far wall.
The targets varied in size and speed, and points were awarded for accuracy and reaction time.
Elias gripped the crossbow tightly, his hands steady.
He had no experience with ranged weapons, but his heightened senses and reflexes made the task feel natural.
He struck most of the targets with ease but made sure to miss a few intentionally, blending his performance with the group's average.
The wealthy boy from earlier, however, missed nearly half, cursing under his breath with each shot.
Next came the perception test.
The recruits were led into a darkened room and given a brief glimpse of a cluttered scene — a table filled with objects, some mundane and some bizarre. After the lights went out, they were asked to recall as many details as possible.
Elias closed his eyes and replayed the scene in his mind, his memory sharper than he'd ever realized. He recited the details aloud, deliberately omitting a few items to avoid suspicion.
When the scores were announced, he ranked near the top but didn't stand out as the best.
The final test was the one everyone had been dreading. Varra led the recruits into a circular chamber, its walls made of smooth, unmarked stone.
In the center stood Alaric, his piercing gaze scanning the group as if sizing up their resolve.
"This is the test of willpower," Varra announced. "Alaric will create a mental fog that taps into your fears, doubts, and weaknesses. The longer you can endure, the higher your score. Falling unconscious or leaving the fog voluntarily will result in failure."
Murmurs rippled through the group, but they were silenced with a single sharp look from Alaric.
"Step into the circle," he said, his voice low and commanding. "And remember — your mind is your greatest enemy."
One by one, the recruits stepped forward, forming a loose circle around Alaric. Elias took his place near the edge, his heart pounding.
The chamber grew eerily quiet as Alaric raised his hands, his fingers curling like talons. A thick, black fog began to seep from the ground, coiling around their legs and rising to envelop them.
The moment the fog touched Elias, he felt... nothing. No fear, no discomfort, no whispers clawing at his mind.
It was as if the fog couldn't penetrate his defenses. But that only unsettled him further. Was this normal? Were the others experiencing the same thing?
He strained to listen, to catch any sound that might give him a clue, but the fog was an all-encompassing void.
Minutes passed, or maybe hours — it was impossible to tell. The silence was oppressive, and the lack of sensory input was maddening.
Elias's thoughts churned.
'Should I step out? No, that would look weak. But what if everyone else has already fallen? Am I supposed to be the last one?'
He clenched his fists, forcing himself to stay still. The fog didn't hurt him, but the isolation gnawed at his resolve.
He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched, judged, even though he couldn't see anyone else.
Eventually, a faint sound broke the silence — a sharp gasp, followed by a thud. Then another. And another. Elias's pulse quickened. W
ere the others falling? Was it over? He had no way of knowing, but he stood his ground, his jaw set.
Finally, the fog began to dissipate, retreating like a tide. As the chamber cleared, Elias blinked, his eyes adjusting to the light.
Around him, bodies were slumped on the ground, some unconscious, others groaning weakly. Only one person remained standing.
A girl with striking blue hair stood a few feet away, her expression calm but her breathing labored. She met Elias's gaze briefly, her pale blue eyes unreadable, before turning her attention to Alaric.
"Well done," Alaric said, his voice echoing in the silent chamber. "The rest of you," he gestured to the fallen recruits, "should consider this a lesson. Strength means nothing without the will to wield it."
Varra stepped forward, her hands clasped behind her back. "You'll be escorted to the dormitories for rest. Tomorrow, we announce the results and begin the first phase of training."
The recruits who had fallen were helped to their feet by instructors, their faces pale and shaken. Elias stole another glance at the blue-haired girl, who had already begun walking toward the exit.
Her movements were fluid and confident, as if the test had barely fazed her.
As Elias followed the group out of the chamber, he couldn't help but wonder who she was — and whether she had seen through the same fog that had failed to touch him.