The world around Ash twisted, his vision blurring as space itself seemed to stretch and fold.
This teleportation was different—slower, heavier. It wasn't just a short-range jump. They were being moved across a vast distance.
From the heart of a continent… to a deserted island.
The moment color bled back into his surroundings, Ash opened his eyes.
A thick forest loomed around him, its towering trees swaying gently under an unseen breeze. The scent of damp earth filled the air, and the rhythmic buzz of insects echoed in the distance, setting an almost eerie stillness.
His stomach churned slightly.
'I still can't get used to this damn teleportation sickness…'
A deep frown crept onto his face as he pressed a hand against a tree for balance.
With practiced caution, he swept his gaze across his surroundings, searching for any immediate danger.
Nothing.
No lurking figures.
No signs of hostility.
Just the unbroken expanse of trees stretching endlessly in every direction.
Only then did he let out a quiet breath and sit down.
That's when he noticed,
'My backpack… it's gone.'
He had prepared everything—food, water, and supplies to survive for the next 24 hours. But now—
"It's all gone… When did they even take it?" he muttered.
Try as he might, he couldn't recall a moment when anyone had asked him to deposit his belongings.
He exhaled slowly, forcing down the irritation clawing at him.
'It doesn't matter. Sitting around won't change anything.'
The longer he stayed in one place, the higher the chance someone would find him. And in a test like this, every encounter was a potential threat.
Just as he pushed himself to his feet, a voice crackled through the badge pinned to his chest.
"Hellooo~ Am I audible? Well, not like you guys can answer, right?~"
A light giggle followed, teasing, playful—yet carrying an edge of amusement that felt just a little too sharp.
Ash didn't react outwardly, but his eyes narrowed slightly.
"Now, now, let me tell you something. Those of you who tried sneaking in extra supplies? All of your little 'preparations' have been confiscated. If you pass the exam, they'll be returned."
"As for why… Well, we wouldn't want anyone getting an unfair advantage, now would we?~"
Elva's voice practically dripped with amusement, like a cat toying with its prey.
"Ah, and before I forget—there are some artifacts hidden across the island. If you find one, it's yours to keep. But beware… they can also be stolen."
A beat of silence.
"Good luck!!!~"
And just like that, her voice was gone.
Ash ran a hand down his face, inhaling deeply.
"Haaah…..The novel never mentioned about not bringing your belongings."
The irritation was momentary, but the realization that followed was not.
'Things are already changing.'
It was just minor differences—small deviations in dialogue or character interactions.
The future he knew wasn't set in stone.
'The moment I transmigrated, the novel's events stopped following a script.'
A sense of unease settled in his chest, but he shoved it aside.
If anything, this only reinforced what he already knew—he couldn't afford to rely on what was 'supposed' to happen.
Adaptation was the only way forward.
Still, the loss of his supplies was a setback. Even if it put everyone on the same starting ground, survival wasn't just about fairness—it was about strategy.
His gaze flickered toward the horizon, where the silhouette of a mountain loomed in the distance, its peak rising high above the dense forest.
'That mountain…'
A slow smirk crept onto his face.
'If I remember correctly, that's where Ray found that rune.'
It was almost laughable. An ancient rune—something powerful enough to alter the course of a person's fate—hidden away on an island meant for an exam.
But what did it matter? No one would believe it.
"Even if someone stumbled upon it, they'd dismiss it as a mere artifact," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Not all runes could be fused immediately. Some required hidden conditions—triggers buried beneath layers of secrecy.
To the unknowing, they were worthless.
'Ray had the rune in his hands from the very beginning… but he couldn't fuse with it.'
It had taken him far too long to uncover its secret—long enough for the plot to twist around it, long enough for him to struggle.
Because he never knew how.
Ash's smirk deepened.
"But I do."
Without another glance back, he started walking—his stride unhurried, deliberate. As if the entire island belonged to him.
***
The Control Room,
The control room hummed with quiet efficiency, its massive holographic screens displaying hundreds of live feeds from the island below.
Each student's movements, every fight, every moment of hesitation—it all played out before Elva like a grand performance.
She sat comfortably in her chair, legs crossed, lazily twirling a strand of violet hair around her finger while sipping her tea.
The warm aroma curled in the air, but her real indulgence was the unfolding chaos on screen.
One of the exam proctors adjusted his glasses. "Vice Principal, the students are spreading out. Early conflicts are beginning in Zones 3, 7, and 12. Should we—"
"No need." Elva waved a hand, her gaze flickering across the various screens.
"This is the fun part. Let's see who sinks and who swims."
Her lips curled into a smirk as she focused on the main monitors, where the strongest contenders were making their moves.
On one screen, a young girl with Red hair moved through the dense jungle, her Red eyes sharp and unwavering.
Melissia Ravencroft.
Daughter of Saint Lucan Ravencroft—the SSS-ranked hunter. A girl born into power, raised in it, and utterly unbothered by the trial set before her.
Unlike the others who hesitated at the unfamiliar terrain, Melissia moved with a predator's grace, her every step confident.
A group of students—three boys armed with standard-issue daggers—had made the foolish decision to tail her, thinking her an easy target because of her small stature.
Elva chuckled. Oh, you poor fools.
Melissa didn't even slow down. Fire coiled around her fingertips, flickering with restrained power.
Then, without a single wasted motion, she flicked her wrist.
A ball of fire snapped through the air.
A heartbeat later, her pursuers collapsed, twitching on the ground, smoke curling from their bodies.
She didn't even glance back.
'Hah. So like her father.'
Elva's attention shifted.
On another screen, a tall, lean boy wielded a gleaming sword, his strikes precise and measured.
Ray Dawson.
The boy who had lost everything to demons. The boy who, in time, would become a force no one could ignore.
But right now, he was still climbing.
Still sharpening his skills.
His sword cut through the air in fluid, decisive arcs as he deflected an incoming attack of a beast. His expression was focused, unwavering, as he engaged multiple beasts at once, his movements refined but not yet perfected.
He's growing.
Unlike Melissa, who dominated through overwhelming power, Ray's strength came from his Unparalleled sword Talent.
He had the potential to carve his way to the top—but he wasn't there yet.
Not yet.
Elva leaned forward slightly, watching as he, too, moved toward the mountains.
Which meant—
Elva's eyes flickered to another screen, and there he was.
Ash Burn.
Unlike Ray, whose path was one of raw struggle, or Melissa, who was born into her strength, Ash walked with an air of quiet certainty.
He wasn't scrambling to secure Flags.
He was even avoiding Beasts and Another kids, he was heading straight for the mountain.
Interesting…
Did he figure something out? Or was it blind luck?
Whatever the case, his actions set him apart from the others.
And Elva found herself intrigued.
Her fingers tapped against the armrest of her chair, a slow, thoughtful rhythm.
"Vice Principal?" one of the proctors asked hesitantly.
She smiled, her violet eyes gleaming.
"Nothing. Just enjoying the show."
Her gaze flickered back to Ash and Ray—Both unknowingly moving toward the same destination.
Two pieces on the board.
Two paths destined to collide.
And Elva couldn't wait to see what happened next.
And just as if the world had decided to entertain her, a beast appeared in front of Ash.
"Now, let's see what you do." she said while smirking.
***
Back In the Forest....
The beast lunged.
A blur of fur and claws, its predatory instincts honed to kill.
Ash didn't move.
Not yet.
He stood still, eyes locked onto the incoming strike, muscles coiled but relaxed—waiting.
He watched, eyes sharp, tracking the arc of the strike. His mind registered the distance, the speed, the moment of impact—
Then, he ducked.
His instincts, sharpened from years of gaming and battle simulations, guided his body before thought could.
A crackling sphere of violet lightning surged in his palm.
With a sharp thrust, he slammed it into the beast's stomach.
Boom!
The wolf-like creature yelped as the impact sent it skidding backward, its claws tearing into the dirt in a desperate attempt to regain footing. Blood oozed from the point of contact, singed fur curling from the heat of the attack.
Ash didn't let up.
He moved, closing the distance in a swift, calculated step. His fingers twitched—another surge of lightning lancing toward the wounded beast.
The first bolt struck its shoulder.
The second hit its leg.
By the third, it barely had the strength to snarl.
A final crackling arc of lightning ripped through the air, slamming into the beast's chest. Its body convulsed once—then collapsed, unmoving.
Ash stood there for a moment, feeling the static hum beneath his skin.
Then, he exhaled.
'Tsk. It's uncomfortable.'
Fighting like this—holding back.
If he had used mana the way he truly wanted to, the fight wouldn't have lasted more than a few seconds. Channeling it into his muscles, moving with the precision and raw force of a warrior—that was what felt natural.
But a mage couldn't do that.
And right now, he had to be a mage.
'It's fine. I trained for this.'
Traveling with Melissa, he hadn't just honed his mana. He had pushed his body daily, conditioning his stamina, strengthening his body.
The results were there.
**
Strength- 6 --> 8
Agility- 8 --> 10
Vitality- 4
Intelligence- 14
Stamina- 10 --> 12
Charm- 6
Mana- 50
**
Ash rolled his shoulders, shaking off the lingering static from his own attack.
The fight had been quick—too quick for anyone watching to pick up on what he truly was.
And yet, somewhere far away, in a dimly lit control room, a pair of sharp violet eyes gleamed with interest.
Elva leaned forward in her seat, a slow smirk tugging at her lips.
"Well, well…" she murmured, her voice laced with amusement. "That was quite the performance."
With a flick of her fingers, she expanded Ash's live feed on the main screen.
There were plenty of strong contenders in this test—Melissa's ruthless efficiency, Ray's relentless blade—and many more, but
Ash was different.
Something about him set him apart.
And Elva wanted to see What That was....
**
A/N: Hello, dear readers! 😊 If you're enjoying the story, don't forget to smash those power stones! 💥
Also, if you have any cool ideas about Runes—what kind he should have or absolutely shouldn't—drop them in the comments! Your input means a lot. 🔥✨