Breaking the Silence

The cavern was a graveyard of echoes. The air was thick with the scent of blood, the lingering hum of dissipated magic, and the weight of fear. The nameless boy's pulse was steady now—not because he wasn't afraid, but because he couldn't afford to be.

The girl crouched beside him, her crimson eyes flickering with sharp calculation. She had told him to trust her. To become bait.

It was a terrible plan.

But it was also their only chance.

The Echo Beasts were still hunting, their soundless bodies slipping through the battlefield like phantoms. They didn't just see their prey—they listened for them, sensing the presence of anything that broke the unnatural silence.

And that was exactly what they were going to use against them.

The girl leaned in, her voice just barely above a breath. "They hunt by sound, but they also consume it. That means they react instinctively when they hear something unexpected."

The nameless boy frowned. "So we distract them?"

She nodded. "Not just distract. Overwhelm."

He could already see the risk. If they did this wrong, they wouldn't just attract one creature—they'd bring all of them.

And yet…

His fingers tightened around the dagger. He had faced death before. It had taken everything from him. And if this world thought he was going to just sit back and wait to die again—

They were wrong.

He exhaled. "Tell me what to do."

The girl gave a sharp grin. "Good. Here's the plan."

She moved first, slipping out of their hiding place with an agility that made her presence feel like a whisper in the dark. He watched as she darted toward one of the fallen students' weapons—a discarded battle horn that had once belonged to a noble. She tested its weight, nodded in satisfaction, then vanished back into the shadows.

Meanwhile, he took his position—exposed, vulnerable, dagger in hand. The perfect bait.

A pause. A breath.

Then—the horn blew.

The sound was like a thunderclap in the void.

It ripped through the cavern, bouncing off the stone walls in an explosion of noise. For the first time since the trial began, the silence was shattered.

The Echo Beasts reacted instantly.

Every single one of their glowing eyes snapped toward the source of the sound, their movements shifting from predatory patience to a frenzied hunger.

But the girl was already moving.

She threw the horn—sending it clattering across the cavern floor, its final echoes bouncing into the distance. The beasts followed.

For a single, breathless moment, they turned away from him.

And that was all he needed.

He attacked.

The dagger flashed as he lunged, driving the blade into the exposed throat of the closest beast. It was the same strike as before—but this time, he understood why it worked.

The Echo Beasts were vulnerable in the moments between sound.

As the creature collapsed, the others jerked in realization, their attention snapping back toward him.

His body tensed.

But before they could strike—

Another explosion of noise.

The girl had grabbed a fallen sword and dragged it against the stone, sending a piercing screech into the air. The beasts flinched, their forms flickering, their senses thrown into chaos.

The nameless boy moved.

He struck again.

This time, he didn't hesitate. He ducked under a set of slashing claws, pivoted on his heel, and drove his dagger straight into another beast's exposed ribs.

Another cry. Another collapse.

The tide was shifting.

And for the first time since the trial began—the students started fighting back.

The others caught on. A noble summoned a burst of flame, but instead of throwing it directly at a beast, he struck the ground, sending a deafening boom through the cavern.

A girl from a minor family, bleeding from a wound on her shoulder, grabbed a fallen shield and bashed it against the stone, creating rhythmic, chaotic impacts.

Sound.

Unpredictable. Uncontrolled.

The beasts were faltering.

For creatures that thrived on silence, this battlefield had become hell.

A monstrous shriek split the air. The Echo Beasts were retreating—but not out of fear. They were regrouping, reforming their hunting patterns, learning. These things weren't just mindless predators. They were adaptive.

And that made them even more dangerous.

Selene grabbed his arm. "We need to finish this now."

He nodded, breath ragged but steady. "One last push."

She glanced at him, calculating, then shoved a second dagger into his hand. "You learn fast. Prove it."

There was no hesitation in him anymore. He moved forward, weaving between the remaining creatures. Each time they focused on him, someone—Selene, another student, even the wounded—would create a fresh burst of sound to disrupt their senses.

A strike to the throat. A slash between the ribs. A deep plunge into the base of the skull.

One by one, the creatures fell.

The last one, a towering figure of darkness and writhing energy, let out a final shriek before crumbling into silence. And then—

It was over.

The cavern was still filled with the scent of blood and the weight of battle, but now, there was something else. Victory.

The nameless boy exhaled, rolling his shoulders. He looked at the dagger in his hand—his grip firm, his breath even. He had won.

For the first time in what felt like forever, he had fought, and he had won.

Selene smirked, nudging him with an elbow. "Not bad for bait."

He let out a breath that could have been a laugh. "Not bad for a lunatic."

She grinned. Then, after a moment's hesitation, she extended a hand.

He stared at it. He wasn't sure why—but something about this moment felt important.

Slowly, he took it.

"Selene," she said. "Since we're apparently not dead, I figure you should know my name."

He nodded. "I'll remember it."

A flicker of something crossed her face at those words. He didn't know why. He didn't ask.

Because for the first time since he had woken up in this world, he had something else to think about.

The fight wasn't over.

It was just the beginning.