Klaus, Sofie, and Selena were huddled together.
They had begun to discuss their next move—strategies, how to cover for each other's weaknesses when suddenly, all three of their wrists lit up in unison.
A cold, mechanical chime echoed in their ears.
[System Notice]
No team-ups allowed.
Another sharp flash.
[System Notice]
Team-ups will lead to disqualification.
Before any of them could react, the world beneath their feet fractured like shattered glass.
A blinding light consumed them, their voices lost in the distortion as they were torn apart.
Klaus felt his stomach drop, his body pulled through a void of crushing weight and silence.
Darkness wrapped around him like chains, suffocating for what felt like endless seconds.
Then—
The pressure vanished. His boots hit solid earth. Air rushed back into his lungs, damp and heavy with the scent of moss and soil.
Klaus opened his eyes.
A forest stretched around him, vast and endless, the canopy blotting out the sun.
Shafts of golden light slipped through the branches, but the shadows were thick, alive with the rustle of unseen creatures.
His gaze darted around immediately.
No Sofie.
No Selene.
Klaus's jaw clenched. Sofie can handle herself… but Selene… He exhaled slowly, his mind already trying to plan.
Inside him, Ashborn's voice stirred,"Focus on the task at hand. Don't scatter your will. If you hesitate, you'll break and so will those you care about."
Klaus shook his head, grounding himself. First things first… what caused the teleportation?
He glanced down only for his artifact to suddenly flare with golden light.
The glow expanded outward, a crisp projection materializing before his eyes.
Letters formed in cold, merciless clarity.
[Instructions]
The golden projection flickered, words engraving themselves into Klaus's vision with a cold finality:
[Instructions]
- You cannot die.
- Depending on how powerful the beasts you kill, you get points accordingly.
- Defeating other youths gets you half of the points they had accumulated.
- No use of magical artifacts apart from your main weapons is allowed.
- You have 3 hours, accumulate as many points as possible.
Klaus's brow furrowed as he read through each line.
The rules weren't complicated if anything, they were brutally straightforward.
Survive. Hunt. Kill.
And most importantly outdo everyone else.
Inside him, Ashborn stirred with quiet amusement. "Hmph. So that's how they wish to sharpen you."
Klaus ignored him for now, eyes flicking back to the holographic display.
A second line of text shimmered on his wristband.
[02:56:34]
The timer was already ticking down, seconds eating themselves away.
Klaus exhaled through his nose. Three hours. That's all they're giving us to prove ourselves…
He looked around at the endless forest.
The trees stood tall and foreboding, roots twisting across the earth like serpents.
In the distance, he could hear faint growls—bestial, primal, promising that danger wasn't far.
The holographic interface pulsed again, as though responding to his determination, then faded into transparency leaving only the glowing countdown on his wrist.
[02:55:59]
---
The forest was silent for only a moment.
Then the ground trembled—trees shook as if they sensed the predator among them.
From the shadows ahead, the growl of a beast echoed low and guttural, like stone grinding against stone.
A massive dire-beast, its hide plated with bone-like armor and its eyes glowing crimson, emerged through the brush.
The air itself seemed to recoil from the creature's presence.
Its fangs dripped with a black ichor that sizzled as it touched the earth.
Klaus didn't flinch. He had once stood against an immortal demon, carved through a divine dragon's scales, and silenced an assassin that moved like death itself.
Compared to those monsters, this monster was nothing more than fodder.
He summoned his blade. Fushigiri.
The sword slid into existence with a hiss, its edge shimmering as if hungry.
Klaus's stance shifted into something he had perfected before stepping into this academy—balanced, fluid, death waiting to be unleashed.
Then his voice rumbled low, barely more than a whisper.
"Ako."—And the world reacted.
The ground beneath him fractured outward in jagged fissures of red.
Energy burst forth, climbing like violent flames into the sky.
His body twisted in aura, his veins pulsing as wrath and aggression poured into him.
His silhouette was swallowed in a storm of blood-red lightning that raged against the heavens.
The spirit of wrath had awakened.
To those watching in the colosseum through the projection screens, the transformation was devastating.
From the cracked earth below, an explosion of red-black aura rose like a pillar piercing the clouds.
At its center, Klaus stood with his figure consumed by a storm of hatred and violent will.
The forest bent beneath the weight of his spirit, trees splintering, wildlife fleeing in a frenzy.
The sky above darkened. Clouds churned violently, thunder growling like the roar of gods.
Forks of crimson lightning split the heavens, striking down in erratic fury around him, scorching the land with every impact.
And then it became clear—the Ako form was not just a power-up.
It was wrath incarnate.
In the colosseum, silence reigned.
Anastasia leaned forward, her teacup trembling in her hand, eyes wide. "This… is what is this power..?"
Emperor Malrik Vortan smirked faintly, one hand supporting his chin. His voice, calm yet edged with something primal, cut through the stunned silence:
"Magnificent. Wrath itself made flesh."
The Paragons reacted in kind:
Ragnar's massive frame shifted, and his lips curled into a grin. "Hah! That's no boy. That's a war-born monster."
Seraphina clasped her hands together, her purple hair swaying as her serene expression cracked with awe.
"The aura… it's devouring the atmosphere itself…"
Zephyrion tilted his head, iridescent eyes flashing. "No illusion could replicate this. He is real. Far too real."
Even Octavius and Luminous, who had been bickering earlier, fell silent as their expressions reflecting the same mix of disbelief and grudging respect.
The forest could not withstand Klaus's wrath.
Leaves were shredded from trees, soil ripped into the air, and the very atmosphere seemed ready to collapse from the pressure.
And then he moved.
Fushigiri carved outward in a crimson arc that tore the very space before him.
The beast lunged, but Klaus was already there, faster than lightning, his blade piercing its armored hide with a thunderous impact.
Blood sprayed, igniting against his aura like sparks on an inferno.
With each strike, Ako's spirit pushed him deeper into feral aggression.
His eyes glowed like molten fire. His movements became a storm of violence—calculated yet unchained.
Every swing of Fushigiri was a sentence of execution, every step a quake through the battlefield.
The beast roared in agony. Klaus roared back louder, his wrath drowning it out as if mocking its existence.
The colosseum erupted in chaos.
The audience gasped, nobles and warriors alike gripping their armrests as they watched a 15-year-old radiate the aura of an executioner god.
Ashborn's voice inside him thundered with approval.
"Yes… That's it! Rage without restraint. Wrath that makes even the heavens tremble. Show them, Klaus..show them what the Ako spirit means!"
And Klaus did. He tore the beast apart, piece by piece.
The countdown on his wrist ticked down.
[02:49:11]
But to everyone watching… three hours was already too long to contain him.