The screams began before the rules were finished.
"—failure will result in immediate expulsion."
The elder's voice echoed across the underground amphitheater, cold and indifferent.
Hundreds of newly registered students stood upon a massive circular platform of black stone, surrounded by towering walls lined with skulls—real skulls, etched with names and dates. Thick chains hung from above, each ending in rusted hooks stained dark with old blood.
The Ossuary Arena.
Azreal stood near the outer ring, eyes calm, wings bound tightly beneath his cloak. The air here was thick with death-aspected spiritual energy—but it was violent, unstable. Souls clung to the walls, whispering in fractured echoes.
This place eats the weak, he realized.
The elder raised one skeletal hand.
"This is the Ossuary Trial," he said. "You will remain here for one hour."
A pause.
"Survive."
A ripple of confusion ran through the crowd.
Another student shouted, "Against what?!"
The elder smiled.
The floor split open.
With a grinding roar, bone rose from beneath the platform—hundreds of skeletal constructs clawing their way upward. Not uniform soldiers, but twisted remains: fused ribcages, elongated arms, skulls screaming silently as green soul-fire ignited within their eye sockets.
[Undead Constructs — Mortal Grade]
[Quantity: Unrestricted]
Panic exploded instantly.
Students screamed, scattered, cast spells blindly.
Fireballs scorched bone—but the skeletons kept moving.
A beastkin was dragged down within seconds, his throat torn out as bony fingers crushed his windpipe. His scream cut off abruptly.
Blood sprayed across the stone.
Azreal did not move.
He watched.
They're testing reactions, he thought. Not strength.
A group of students clustered together, forming a defensive circle.
"Stay together!" someone yelled.
The skeletons rushed them.
The first wave was shattered.
The second wave crawled over the broken remains of the first.
The third wave came from below.
Bone spears erupted from the ground, impaling two students through the legs. They screamed as skeletons dragged them under, their bodies vanishing beneath the stone as if swallowed whole.
The screams didn't echo long.
Azreal inhaled slowly.
Time to begin.
He raised his hand.
Not dramatically.
Not forcefully.
Just enough.
[Bone Mage Skill — Skeletal Resonance]
The bones beneath his feet answered.
A ripple pulsed outward, subtle but precise. The skeletons nearest him stuttered, movements desynchronizing as their internal structure resonated with his mana.
One skeleton collapsed outright.
Another tore its own arm free.
A third shattered from internal stress.
Azreal stepped forward calmly, weaving between panicked students and lunging constructs. His movements were efficient—no wasted energy, no flourish. When a skeleton lunged, he sidestepped and crushed its skull with a heel reinforced by hardened bone mana.
Crack.
Green soul-fire extinguished.
Blood splashed across his scales—warm, human.
He didn't react.
Nearby, Rask the Blood Berserker roared, cleaving skeletons apart with brute force. He was covered in gore, laughing wildly as bones shattered beneath his fists.
"THIS IS IT?!" Rask bellowed. "THIS IS BLACK SEPULCHER?!"
Azreal watched him briefly.
He'll burn out.
The undead began to change.
The elder's voice echoed again.
"Phase Two."
The walls opened.
Cages dropped from above.
They slammed into the arena floor and burst open.
Inside were students.
Bound.
Gagged.
Wounded.
"WHAT—?!" someone screamed.
Before anyone could react, sigils ignited on the cages.
The bound students' bodies convulsed.
Bones tore through skin.
Flesh twisted and fused.
Screams turned into wet, choking sounds as living students were forcibly transformed into bone aberrations, their eyes pleading even as their bodies attacked.
Azreal's jaw tightened.
Cruel, he thought. Deliberate.
A bone-aberration lunged at him—its face half-recognizable, mouth stretched in a silent scream.
Azreal raised his hand.
[Organic Synthesis — Restricted Application]
The aberration froze mid-strike.
Its bones separated cleanly from its flesh, collapsing inward as Azreal forcibly dismantled its structure. The body dropped lifelessly to the ground.
No resurrection.
No mercy.
Azreal exhaled slowly.
If I hesitate, I die.
Across the arena, a silver-eyed student moved with terrifying efficiency.
Niklaus.
He didn't use flashy spells. He didn't shout. Every movement was economical—dodging, striking pressure points, severing tendons with blades coated in something dark and viscous.
When blood splashed onto his skin—
It vanished.
Absorbed.
Azreal's eyes narrowed.
Blood control… refined. Not mortal-born.
Their gazes met again across the chaos.
Niklaus inclined his head—barely.
Then turned away, plunging a dagger into a bone aberration's spine and tearing something essential out of it. The construct collapsed instantly.
Rask screamed in rage as a bone spike pierced his shoulder. He ripped it free, laughing—but his movements slowed, blood loss catching up.
Students were dying.
Not failing.
Dying.
At the half-hour mark, the arena floor was slick with gore.
At the forty-minute mark, less than half remained.
The undead grew faster.
Stronger.
Smarter.
Azreal felt strain build within his bones, micro-fractures forming from overuse. His mana reserves dipped dangerously low.
Still alive, he thought. That's enough.
The elder's voice rang out one final time.
"Trial complete."
The undead froze mid-motion.
Then collapsed into dust.
The survivors stood among corpses and shattered bones, breathing hard, bloodied, hollow-eyed.
Rask fell to one knee.
Azreal remained standing.
A system message appeared.
[Ossuary Trial — Survived]
[Casualty Rate: 63%]
[Evaluation: Acceptable]
Acceptable.
The elder floated forward, gaze sweeping the survivors without sympathy.
"Congratulations," he said. "You are now official students of Black Sepulcher Academy."
He paused, eyes settling briefly on Azreal.
"And remember," he added, voice cold.
"This was mercy."
High above, unseen—
Cosmic heirs watched their first true slaughter.
And deep within Azreal's soul, something ancient stirred.
Not horror.
Not pride.
Acceptance.