The forest materialized around them—ancient trees reaching toward a violet sky, air thick with the scent of decay and danger. Students landed hard, some stumbling, while others managed to land with grace. All were disoriented.
The sky cracked open like broken glass.
Arthur's projection filled the horizon, his face massive and merciless. He looked down at them the way a child might observe ants before burning them with sunlight.
"Welcome to your first real test," he said, his voice dripping with amusement. "This dimension hasn't been visited in three hundred years. The monsters here? Extinct everywhere else. Too dangerous to let live."
He paused, savoring their growing fear.
"But you're not alone. We've populated this place with the worst of history. Criminals who should have died centuries ago. Fallen kings who sold their kingdoms for power. Murderers who killed for sport. Rapists who—well, you understand." His grin widened. "They get their freedom if you all die. You get into the Academy if you survive one week."
Black steel bands materialized on every wrist, clicking into place with a sense of finality.
"These track your kills," Arthur explained. "Monsters are ranked: C, B, A, S, SS, SSS, and EX. There are two beings here beyond classification—Special Rank. Good luck with those." He laughed. "Killing other students counts too. You won't know the exact points until the end, so feel free to take a chance. The top seven get special privileges at the Academy. The rest? Well, surviving is its own reward."
His projection began to fade.
"What a cruel world we live in. Have fun."
Silence fell over the forest. Null looked at his wristband. Kill count: 0. The display was simple, elegant, and designed to show only what mattered. Numbers and death. He felt nothing about the announcement. Killing wasn't new to him. Fighting brought death—it always had. The only difference here was permission.
If he wanted first place, he needed to hunt.
He descended through the canopy, landing silently in what had once been a village. Moss consumed the stone walls. Vines strangled collapsed roofs. At its center, a fire burned—the only light for miles. A lone figure stood there, tall and broad-shouldered. His face carried old claw marks that had poorly healed, leaving ridges of scar tissue. A crown of tarnished silver sat on his head, thorns worked into the metal. His eyes held the particular emptiness of a man who'd crossed too many lines to ever return.
Null's wristband flared:
Crime — Hired assassins to kill his own family.
"You don't belong here," the King said, his voice rough. His massive war blade reflected the firelight as he lifted it. "But I need my freedom. I'm sorry it has to be this way."
He charged. The blade crashed down where Null had stood, cracking the stone beneath. But Null was already gone, reappearing a few feet away. The King roared, swinging horizontally. Null leaned back fractionally—the edge passing close enough to part the air before his face.
They circled each other, fire crackling between them. The King attacked again, a desperate, decisive flurry. Null moved through the assault like water through fingers, his control absolute. Finally, steel met flesh with a sharp ring. Null had caught the blade barehanded. The King's eyes widened as he tried to wrench it free.
Something shifted beneath Null's skin. The flesh of his hand hardened, scales shimmering into existence—black as void, flecked with distant stars. The temperature dropped.
"What are you?" the King whispered, terror breaking through his resolve.
Null's expression never changed. He closed his fist.
The metal sword shattered into a thousand pieces. Before the King could react, Null's open palm struck his chest. Black energy, star-forged and absolute, erupted from the point of impact, consuming him entirely.
The wristband chimed: Kill count +1. Null brushed the metallic dust from his hand and rose back into the sky.
He continued his sweep of the forest until he stopped above a clearing, hovering silently. Below, three students fought desperately against a massive orc that radiated S-rank power. They were losing ground, their weapons chipping against its regenerating hide. Null watched, calculating. They had perhaps three minutes before exhaustion made them easy prey.
He descended to the clearing's edge. "Do you need help?"
Hope flashed in the girl's eyes. "Yes! Please!"
"No!" one of the boys snarled. "Don't trust him—he just wants to steal the kill!"
Null's expression didn't change. "I've been watching. Any longer and you'll be too exhausted to fight. This monster will kill you."
"We can handle it," the other boy spat, though his sword arm shook with fatigue.
Null shrugged. "Your choice." He rose back into the air, resuming his position as an observer.
Five minutes passed. The fight had become a slaughter in slow motion. As the students' coordination broke down, the forest trembled. A second, larger orc emerged from the treeline. The students' faces went white.
"Please!" the girl screamed upward, sobbing. "Please help us! I'll be your slave! Just don't let them kill me!"
Disgust flickered across Null's features. "I offered to help," he said flatly. "You refused. Handle it yourselves."
The orcs charged. The students' deaths were brutal and swift. When silence returned, Null descended. Both S-rank orcs turned toward him, confident in their strength. Space tore open between them. A black hole yawned into existence, and the monsters disappeared into nothing.
His wristband flashed. Kill count: 36.
He left the clearing, the scene already forgotten. His senses reached out again, this time catching the scent of a different kind of hunt. He followed it to a ravine where three figures moved with chilling purpose.
Marcus led, his blade a blur of textbook perfection. Behind him, Elarion's fingers traced patterns in the air, shaping the battlefield itself. Elena followed last, death magic coiling around her like a second skin—the Nexus heirs.
An S-rank wyvern burst from the canopy, but its roar was cut short as Elarion's chains erupted to bind its wings, dragging the beast earthward with a sickening crunch. The jarring impact stunned it for a crucial second, giving Marcus the opening he needed to roll beneath its snapping jaws and drive his blade into the soft flesh of its underbelly. As the beast thrashed in pain, its focus entirely on Marcus, Elena stepped calmly into the chaos, placed her hand on its head, and spoke the single word that silenced it forever.
"Someone's watching," Elarion said quietly, not looking up.
The other two didn't react beyond slight nods. They knew. They didn't care. The hunt continued.
Suddenly, a deep hum rolled through the forest—not heard but felt, vibrating through bones and earth alike. Every wristband in the dimension flared blood-red simultaneously.
"Warning. Special prey released."
The ground shook. Not the brief tremor of a falling beast, but something sustained, rhythmic. Footsteps. Trees cracked and toppled in the distance as something immense approached. The ether signature that washed over the forest dwarfed anything they'd encountered. Dense. Ancient. Hungry.
The heirs regrouped instantly, their calm never wavering, but their stances shifted from a hunting stance to one of readiness.
Silence spread across the forest. Students stopped running and hiding from what was coming, as fragile alliances shattered. Null rose higher, removing himself from the immediate danger zone while maintaining clear sight lines. His eyes narrowed with the first genuine interest he'd shown all night. A thought drifted through his mind, casual as breathing:
Let's see if this one is any different.