The Gauntlets Edge

Elias moved through the dense forest, his breath steady but controlled. Every step sent dull pain through his limbs, a constant reminder of the toll the Gauntlet had already taken on him. His body was battered, his mana reserves were dangerously low, and the brief respite he had taken after clearing the hidden objective had done little to ease his exhaustion. But there was no time to dwell on it.

His primary goal had shifted—there was no need to prove himself any further. He had already demonstrated his strength. The academy proctors had surely taken note of his feats by now. He had fought and bested a powerful monster, defeated other contestants, and even secured a hidden objective. Anything more would only put him in unnecessary danger. Right now, the priority was reaching the center and completing the Gauntlet.

His sharp gaze flickered to his surroundings, noting every rustling leaf and shifting shadow. The Gauntlet was still ongoing, and while some contestants had likely been eliminated by now, others would be getting more aggressive. Those with strength to spare would be looking for easy prey—injured or exhausted participants who had pushed themselves too hard. Elias had no intention of becoming one of them.

He stuck to the shadows, moving carefully but efficiently, conserving what little energy he had left. Avoiding unnecessary conflicts would be his best strategy. He knew his limits; if he fought another battle now, especially against a prepared opponent, it could cost him everything.

In the observation chamber, a group of academy proctors stood around a large projection, their gazes locked onto the images flickering across its surface. The Gauntlet's landscape unfolded before them in real time, each contestant's actions carefully monitored. Among them, one particular scene was being replayed—Elias' battle with the fast-moving, shadow-like monster.

"This is unbelievable," one of the examiners muttered, eyes narrowed in disbelief. "That monster wasn't even meant to be defeated alone. It was one of the strongest creatures in the Gauntlet that wasn't tied to an objective."

"Yet he took it down," another proctor remarked, adjusting his glasses as he analyzed the footage. "Not through brute strength, but through sheer intelligence and skill. His reaction time was impeccable. He adapted to its movements in the middle of battle and turned its own speed against it."

A third proctor, an older man with a grizzled beard, folded his arms. "We were expecting teams of two or three to struggle against that beast. But he did it solo, despite being outmatched. And it wasn't luck—he planned his attacks, kept his positioning, and executed his strikes with precision."

"And let's not forget," another added, "this is the same contestant who just cleared one of the hidden objectives. He might be the most impressive examinee so far."

A murmur of agreement passed through the group. Though many participants in the Gauntlet had shown talent, Elias had done something that none of them had expected. It was one thing to be strong, but it was another to be resourceful, calculating, and capable of overcoming extreme odds.

One of the proctors, a woman with sharp, golden eyes, tapped a finger against her arm. "But he's running on fumes now. His mana is almost depleted, and his body is pushing its limits. He might have the skill, but if he doesn't pace himself properly, he won't last until the end."

The grizzled proctor nodded. "That's what we need to see. Raw talent isn't enough. The real test is endurance—how he handles himself when everything is stacked against him."

"Still," another added, "the fact that he's already aware of his situation and is focusing on survival instead of pointless fights shows he's thinking ahead. That level of awareness is rare for someone his age."

The group fell into silence for a moment, their gazes once again turning toward the projection where Elias' figure was seen moving cautiously through the battlefield. Though his body language betrayed his exhaustion, his eyes remained sharp. He wasn't broken—he was still calculating, still determined.

And that, more than anything, caught their interest.

Elias felt the weight of the emblem he had secured from the hidden objective tucked safely in his coat. He had no idea how much it would impact his standing in the exam, but he knew one thing: the academy valued those who could think beyond simple combat. Strength alone wouldn't guarantee success. It was about strategy, adaptability, and understanding when to act and when to retreat.

He moved swiftly but silently, his senses stretched to their limits. The forest around him had grown eerily quiet, the distant sounds of battle fading as he pressed on. Either the other contestants had moved further ahead, or something was wrong.

Then he heard it—a faint disturbance in the wind. A presence.

A whisper, barely audible, slithered through his mind.

"Danger approaches."

Elias froze, his grip tightening around his sword. His instincts screamed at him to move, but he forced himself to remain still, his breathing controlled. If someone was nearby, they had yet to fully detect him. He had the advantage—for now.

Slowly, he shifted his stance, ready to either engage or escape depending on what came next. His body ached, his mana was low, but his mind remained sharp.

Because in this battlefield, hesitation meant death.

And he wasn't going to fall here.

Back in the observation chamber, the proctors continued to watch as Elias prepared for his next move. Some took notes, others exchanged knowing glances.