The End of the Trial
The first light of dawn crept through the dense canopy of the Forest of Ordeals, casting long shadows over the battlefield that had unfolded over the past night. The air was still heavy with the scent of blood, damp earth, and the lingering echoes of battles fought in the darkness.
Atop a moss-covered boulder, Elias sat with one leg lazily draped over the other, his golden eyes closed as if he were merely resting, unconcerned with the trials raging around him. His white robes remained pristine, untouched by the filth of the forest, an almost surreal contrast to the chaos that surrounded him.
Then—
A shift.
It wasn't loud. It wasn't violent.
But it was there.
A ripple in the unseen currents of the world.
For a fraction of a second, something awakened.
Elias's eyes opened.
It was faint, almost insignificant in its brevity, yet impossible to ignore. A pulse, distant yet distinct, spreading like a drop of ink dissolving into clear water. It didn't belong to any inscription Elias had sensed before—it was something else. Something deeper.
And at the center of it—
Ryn.
Elias remained motionless, his golden eyes sharp and unreadable. Then, slowly, he exhaled a quiet chuckle.
"So it's finally stirring, huh?"
His voice was barely more than a murmur, spoken more to himself than anyone else.
For a brief moment, he allowed his mind to linger on the sensation. It had disappeared as quickly as it had come, as if retreating into the depths of slumber once more. But he knew better.
Power did not simply wake for no reason.
No… something had triggered it.
Something—or someone.
A predatory gleam flickered in his gaze as he reached into his pocket and absently traced the edge of his engraving tool with his fingertips.
Ryn.
Elias had watched him from the moment they met, intrigued but never truly surprised. He saw Ryn's secret, the secret that even Ryn himself knew nothing about.
And now, this.
A smirk curled Elias's lips, though there was no warmth in it—only a quiet, knowing satisfaction.
It was happening.
"Yes," he muttered under his breath, barely audible, his tone distant yet possessive. "That's why I chose you, Ryn."
A faint breeze stirred the forest around him, rustling the leaves, but Elias remained perfectly still.
His expression darkened, his smirk widening just slightly.
"Grow more and more."
His fingers pressed into his palm, a slow, deliberate motion.
"This way…"
His voice dropped, colder than before, dripping with something far more dangerous than amusement.
"…it will be more delicious to eat you."
The wind died.
The trees seemed to loom taller, casting longer shadows over the forest floor.
For a moment, there was only silence.
Then, as if nothing had happened, Elias leaned back against the boulder once more, his posture relaxed, his expression indifferent.
But beneath the surface, his golden eyes gleamed—
Hungry.
* * * * * *
The five days of the Forest of Ordeals end with the scent of blood still thick in the air. The weak had already been culled, their corpses left as silent reminders of the Academy's brutal standards. Only those strong enough—or cunning enough—remained.
But even for them, the trial was reaching its limit.
As the morning sun pierced through the dense canopy, a powerful vibration swept through the forest. The air itself seemed to hum with energy, and then—
BOOM!
A surge of light exploded into the sky, forming a massive golden sigil high above the treetops. It pulsed with authority, sending a silent command across the land.
The trial was over.
"Attention, applicants," a voice boomed, deep and imposing, carrying through the entire forest. It was an instructor's voice—one of the overseers of the test. "You have endured the Forest of Ordeals. Those of you still standing, make your way to the central clearing immediately."
Ryn, still crouched beside the smoldering remnants of a beast he had slain, exhaled slowly. His body ached, his inscriptions had been pushed to their limits, but he was alive.
Veyran, a few paces behind him, wiped the blood from his face. "Tch. Took them long enough."
Without another word, the two started moving.
As Ryn and Veyran reached the designated clearing, the scene before them was telling.
Hundreds had entered the trial.
Barely a few dozen remained.
Most of them were battered and bruised, their expressions grim. Some had bandaged their wounds with whatever scraps of cloth they had left. Others leaned against trees, barely able to stand.
And yet, among them, there were a few who stood apart.
Elias, of course, was untouched. He sat on a broken log, his golden eyes calm, his posture as relaxed as if he had been on a leisurely stroll rather than a death trial.
Seraphina was there too. Though visibly scuffed from her fight with Elias, she carried herself with an air of unshaken confidence, her gaze distant as if already looking beyond this test.
Other notable figures remained—silent warriors, cunning survivors, those whose names would be remembered.
And then, of course—
The Dead.
Though no one spoke of them, their absence weighed heavily over the survivors.
There was no ceremony for them. No burial. No mourning.
The Forest of Ordeals took what it wanted.
And only the strong walked away.
An instructor stood at the front of the clearing, his dark robes flowing like ink in the morning light. His gaze was sharp, his presence commanding. When he spoke, his voice carried absolute authority.
"The trial is over," he repeated, surveying the gathered applicants with a look of quiet scrutiny.
"You have proven yourselves worthy. But do not mistake this for success—this was merely the beginning."
A wave of silent tension passed through the crowd.
The instructor continued.
"From this moment onward, you will be recognized as prospective students of the Academy of Epponville. You will be granted temporary lodging and provisions. But be warned—this academy does not tolerate weakness. If you fall behind, you will be cast aside. If you fail to meet expectations, you will be discarded.
"The trials will only get harder. The competition fiercer. If you are not prepared for that reality…"
His gaze swept over them, cold and unyielding.
"…then leave now."
Silence.
No one moved.
A smirk played at the instructor's lips.
"Good."
He gestured behind him. A set of stone pillars shimmered into view, glowing with faint inscriptions. A portal gate.
"Step through. Your new lives begin now."
Without hesitation, Elias stood first, striding toward the gate without a second glance.
Seraphina followed.
One by one, the survivors moved, passing through the shimmering doorway, leaving the cursed forest behind.
Ryn exhaled, fingers tightening around his engraving tool.
This was only the beginning.
He stepped forward.
And walked through the gate.