The Price of Survival

Terra stirred first. The ceiling above her was glass—crystal-clear, like water frozen mid-ripple. The air wasn't hot or cold anymore. She turned to her side and saw Rachel beside her, just waking up.

"Where... are we?" Terra croaked, her throat still raw.

"I'm as lost as you are," Rachel replied, blinking at the polished marble walls around them. The room was filled with other contestants—most seated, some standing, all silent. And in the center, cross-legged, was Naemor.

Before they could rise, another contestant nearby—dressed in silver robes and wearing a smug grin—spoke without even looking their way:

"You're in the observation deck. That boy over there dragged both of you through the final stretch."

"We've been in there for seven days. Shouldn't the trial be over?" Terra asked, rubbing her temples.

The boy turned, and his smile widened like a wolf showing its teeth.

"Oh, poor mortal. You've no idea, do you? You were in there for about ten hours. The forest bends time, perception, and reality. You'd have been devoured whole if he hadn't shielded you."

Terra frowned. "Don't talk to her like that. You don't know anything about us."

His smile vanished. He raised a hand—and without warning, Terra's throat closed.She gasped, scratching at her neck, eyes wide, body convulsing. She tried to scream but couldn't.

The other contestants didn't move. Some looked on with pity. Others, with silent approval.

"I hate mortals," the boy sneered. "You speak with such arrogance, demanding respect in a world you barely understand."

Then Naemor's voice rang out—quiet, but laced with something final.

"Release her."

The boy's fingers unclenched on their own, as though controlled by invisible strings. Terra dropped to her knees, gulping air like it was life itself.

The boy blinked in confusion, then glared. "Tch... Sacred Speech. I hate your family's tongue."

Naemor stood now, gaze calm. "Touch them again, and I'll show you what else I can do with my words."

The boy turned away in silence and slinked back to his seat, his pride wounded.

Rachel turned to Naemor, still shaken. "What did he mean? You were shielding us?"

Naemor sighed, the weight of it settling on him like old armor. "Each royal family has its specialty. Mine… is the mind. We train our abilities to function without mana. They're innate."

He looked at them both. "I protected you from the full weight of the forest. The weather, the illusions… all of it. What you experienced was only about twenty percent of its true strength. As I increased the shield, it took more from me."

Terra punched his shoulder, immediately wincing. "Damn. Why didn't you tell us?"

Naemor shook his head. "Would it have helped? The forest doesn't care about your tier. It attacks everything equally. If I hadn't interfered, it would have broken you within the first hour. Slowly… intimately."

He motioned to the screens above, showing contestants still inside the forest.

"Look. Only nobles are in this room. Everyone else is still out there."

They looked up.

On one screen, a boy was screaming into empty air, clawing at invisible enemies. On another, a girl was frozen solid, her hand just inches from her last supplement. Some collapsed. Others screamed in languages they didn't know. A few just sat—blank-eyed, defeated.

Rachel swallowed. "Why allow them to even try the test?"

"Because some have passed before," Naemor answered. "But not through talent. Through will. These trials don't test your love for your family or your dreams for the future. They test how badly you want to live."

He looked back at them.

"I started shielding you at twenty percent. Based on how you responded, I increased it."

Terra stared. "We barely saw any illusions. What are you talking about?"

Laughter rippled across the room.

She stood, eyes narrowing. "What the hell are you all laughing at?"

A noble girl chuckled. "You don't even remember. That's the point."

Naemor nodded grimly. "You each had at least ten illusions. Some nearly fatal. You almost walked into fire. One time, you were about to stab each other. Another time… you nearly choked to death on a supplement."

Rachel sat down hard, overwhelmed. "So we... we never stood a chance on our own?"

"You might have made it," Naemor said. "But only after the forest broke you. Only at the brink of death would the chance to fight back come. Most don't reach that point. Most die before it."

They sat in silence, watching the screens.

And then… a flicker.

A girl appeared—one arm missing, dragging herself forward with the other. Each pull through the dirt left a trail of blood. A man in a dark cloak appeared beside her.

"I can end this suffering," he said softly. "Just take my hand."

She didn't even look at him. She dragged herself forward.

The man walked beside her, silent. Hours passed. The girl reached for her supplement—only to find it empty.

She lay back, breath shallow, eyes closing.

The man leaned down again, extending his hand.

This time, light fell through the clouds and touched his palm, casting it in gold.

But she turned over—and crawled.

The man smiled.

And vanished.

Then the skies opened.

Rain fell. Light, gentle rain. It washed away the dirt. The blood.

She crawled still. Mud clung to her—but didn't stop her.

Then, in the distance, the silver flag appeared.

Step by step. Breath by breath.

She reached it.

The girl collapsed into the room in a blaze of golden light.

Gasps filled the observation deck as her broken body hit the floor—mud-streaked, blood-drenched. But before anyone could react, the light that surrounded her pulsed outward like a heartbeat, and before their very eyes, her arm grew back, wounds sealing shut like rewinding time.

She gasped—once, sharply—and then lay still.

Everyone stared, stunned into silence.

A voice broke through the hush, calm and almost reverent.

"That," said the guide, who had appeared without warning, "is the reason mortals are still allowed to participate. The human will... it remains one of the most mysterious forces in this world. Even now, it finds ways to surprise us."

She let the moment hang. Some bowed their heads. Others looked to the screens where the remaining contestants were still fighting, breaking, or dying.

Then she clapped her hands once, brisk and final.

"That concludes the forest trial. I'll lead you to the next section."

"Wait!" Terra called out suddenly. Naemor caught her arm to steady her.

"It hasn't been seven days like you said," she continued.

The guide turned with an unreadable expression. "Everyone still inside has already experienced seven days. Some longer. Time bends differently in the forest. But it doesn't matter anymore."

Her voice hardened—just slightly.

"They're broken. They'll never return from the illusions now. And before they ever do... the forest will devour them."

Silence. Several contestants turned back to the screens, horror dawning on their faces as they truly saw the state of those still trapped inside.

Terra clenched her fists, jaw trembling—but said nothing. What could she say?

The room that had once been filled with dozens now held only a handful.

The guide stepped through the door, and they followed—more somber than before.

They entered a circular red room, the walls pulsing faintly like veins around a massive stone arena set into the center.

"Now for the third and final test of the selection process," the guide said, voice crisp. "Combat aptitude."

The floor of the arena flickered, shimmering like glass, then faded to stone again.

"You will fight a mirror copy of yourself. Same strength. Same skills. Same knowledge."

Her tone dropped, and with it came a wave of murderous intent so heavy it crushed the air from the lungs of weaker contestants.

"You are to kill that copy."

A beat. She let the threat linger—tangible, inescapable.

Then, just as smoothly, she reined in the pressure and smiled coldly.

"If you fail, it doesn't mean death. Your scores from previous trials may still qualify you for other departments. But make no mistake—only those who pass this test will become true members."

Her eyes swept across them.

"Now… let the matches begin."