The air was thick with the scents of sweat, soil, and the suffocating stench of werewolves, accompanied by the sounds of low growls, roars, and the thuds of heavy objects hitting the ground. It felt like the chaos before a battlefield clash.
Every Alpha's eyes were sharp, their bodies taut, ready to prove their strength.
I stood at the edge of the training ground, sweat dampening my palms, my inner Wolf Spirit letting out a restless whimper.
"Today's training includes strength tests, explosive power tests, and combat simulations!" Instructor Sigurd's authoritative voice echoed across the grounds, his blade-like gaze sweeping over each new recruit. "Everyone, follow the order!"
Strength tests. Explosive power tests. Combat simulations. My heart sank to the depths. These were Torian's specialties. Last year, he broke cadet records here and earned renown.
As for me… A wave of dizziness hit me.
The first task was to lift a boulder marked with weight inscriptions.
When my turn came, I approached the boulder. Its cold surface made my hands tremble. Gripping it tightly, I took a deep breath and mustered all my strength to lift.
The boulder didn't budge. It seemed to mock my weakness, as if rooted to the ground.
Low murmurs arose around me. Some even laughed.
I gritted my teeth, veins bulging on my forehead, and tried again, even attempting to summon the meager strength of my Wolf Spirit. The boulder remained immovable.
"Is this the so-called Young Master Vance? Wasn't he rumored to be incredibly strong?"
"Must've been sick for too long. Even his Alpha strength's dwindled!"
The biting words hit me like arrows.
Instructor Sigurd frowned deeply, his gaze a mix of obvious disappointment and a hint of impatience. He said nothing, only calling out coldly, "Next!"
Stiffly, I stood up, my face burning. Avoiding all eyes, I moved to the back of the line.
The second task was a short-distance sprint.
As the starting signal rang, the Alphas shot forward like arrows released from bows.
Imitating them, I pushed off and tried to stride forward, but my lack of bodily coordination made my steps clumsy, my pace pathetically slow.
Unrestrained laughter sounded from behind me.
"That speed's slower than a Beta's!"
"Did Wolfden recruit a turtle this year?"
Just as despair began to take hold, a figure sped past me, as swift as lightning. It was Ethan Wild.
His running form was agile and powerful, his warm pinewood scent wafting through the air.
As he overtook me, he glanced my way. His gaze was puzzled, then… tinged with sympathy?
I even felt him slow slightly, but he quickly surged toward the finish line.
That sympathy stung like humiliation. Clenching my teeth, I dragged my heavy steps, grinding my way to the finish.
The third task was combat simulation.
The recruits paired off. When my turn came, I faced a tall Alpha with a contemptuous smirk on his face.
As Instructor Sigurd announced the start, I immediately adopted a defensive stance.
My opponent charged in, his force overwhelming.
Instinctively, I wanted to evade, but my disguise forced me to confront him. I barely raised my arms to block, but the gap in power was too great—I was instantly pushed back several steps.
Relentless, he kept attacking.
All I could do was defend desperately, completely unable to counter. With a sweeping strike, he threw me off balance, and I fell to the ground.
"You're so weak!" he sneered, showing not a shred of respect.
Lying on the ground, pain coursed through me as my Wolf Spirit uttered an anguished growl from within. My gaze roamed the sidelines, landing on Silas Knight, who was watching me coldly.
Arms crossed, his icy eyes seemed to pierce through everything. He didn't laugh, but the faint curve of his lips was deadlier than any mockery.
It was as if he were declaring, "See? I knew it. You're a fraud, and a weak fraud at that."
Under Silas's gaze, the Wolf Spirit inside me reacted strongly to its mate, his chilling metallic aura contrasting starkly with my current humiliation, making me tremble.
I struggled to contain myself, terrified of exposing anything.
Ethan ran over, holding out a hand to help me up. "Torian, are you alright?" Concern was etched on his face, his warm scent stirring complex emotions within me.
"I'm fine!" I brusquely brushed his hand away, struggling to my feet.
Instructor Sigurd approached, his disappointment incapable of being hidden any longer. "Young Master Vance's performance today… is utterly disappointing. This is unacceptable. If you can't quickly restore yourself to the expected standard, the academy's elimination mechanism is very strict."
Elimination mechanism! The Bottom 10% at Season's End! His words struck my heart like a hammer.
"Yes, Instructor. I'll work hard," I replied through clenched teeth.
Ethan, standing beside me, spoke with concern in his voice, "Torian, are you really okay? I know you were amazing before. You just… need time to recover."
"I'm fine," I repeated, avoiding Ethan's eyes and Silas's icy stare. Despair engulfed me. Disguising Torian's strength felt like an impossible task.
My body, my instincts—they were all betraying me.
As I left the training ground, the whispers and laughter behind me lingered.
Ethan tried to follow, but I quickened my pace, eager to escape.
Silas remained silent, but I could feel his cold gaze fixed on me.
I couldn't mimic Torian's strength. I had to find my own power.
That hidden, distinct force unlike an Alpha's…
The Otherforce.
It was my only chance to survive in this cutthroat academy and uncover the truth.