One question broke the artificial calm inside the flying palace.
"What kind of fights will we have?"
The voice was steady, but carried the caution of someone who had lived long in a world where only the suspicious survive.
Korval turned his head slowly.
He looked at the speaker, then at the rest of the audience, then at the giant screen showing the Stone Forest in solemn silence.
He smiled.
"What do you think…
if we test them against some monsters?"
He paused, then added with false reassurance:
"And don't worry…
they aren't strong monsters."
The kings exchanged glances.
Monsters?
A traditional test…
No political blood, no hidden daggers.
The Crystal King nodded:
"A reasonable idea."
The Taso King said:
"At least…
we'll see the basics."
The sect leaders did not object.
Monsters always reveal truths that training hides.
Korval raised his hand.
In the center of the hall, a massive blood-red disc appeared, tens of meters wide, its inscriptions moving like red celestial circles, its energy stable… but fierce.
"Young ones,"
Korval said in a calm, regal voice,
"step onto the disc."
No one hesitated.
Some stepped forward confidently.
Some hid their tension behind false pride.
And some… just waited for it to begin.
The kings' children.
Sect disciples.
Future mercenaries.
Tomorrow's assassins.
They stood on the disc.
The blood-red light flared.
And in a moment…
they vanished.
Their bodies appeared among the stone pillars.
The air here was heavier.
Colder.
As if the forest was watching them.
Some swallowed nervously.
Others released their auras unconsciously.
No one spoke.
The Stone Forest did not like words.
Watching from above,
in the palace,
the kings and leaders sat in their seats.
The giant screen showed everything.
Every movement, every breath, every tremor.
Korval did not sit immediately.
He stood for a moment…
as if making sure everyone was watching.
Then he sat.
The Order
He took out a small disc from his side.
No bigger than the palm of a hand, but pulsing with precise, focused spiritual energy.
He brought it close to his mouth.
"Bring… first-level monsters."
No explanation was needed.
The monsters.
Side gates in the palace opened.
Soldiers with expressionless faces pushed huge cages onto transport platforms.
Inside…
bloodthirsty monsters.
Huge red wolves with mouths full of teeth inside teeth.
Crawling creatures covered in external bones.
Massive gray bears.
Some onlookers clenched their fists.
Even at level one… these were not children's toys.
The cages were moved into the Stone Forest.
The monsters were released among the pillars.
Roars.
Scratches.
Blood dripping onto the stone.
Then one of the soldiers stepped forward, bowed respectfully to the young generation, and his voice echoed through the forest:
"Who among you…
will go first?"
Silence.
The monsters moved.
Blood boiled.
Eyes met.
And above…
Korval smiled.
The stone floor shook under the young generation's feet.
A deep silence filled the area, heavy, as if the forest itself was holding its breath.
The monsters moved slowly, muscles tense, blood flowing, almost burning the ground by their presence, as if daring someone to start.
The first to step forward was the son of King Taso.
A fifteen-year-old, eyes glowing with excitement and pride, but hiding tension behind his composure.
A massive gray bear charged at him, its muscular body gleaming, fur flying like flames through the Stone Forest.
The stone floor trembled under the bear's feet. Each step struck like lightning, shaking the forest, sending small stone fragments into the air with the grinding of rock.
The old blood on its claws sparkled in the sunlight, mixed with the heat of the earth, as if everything there witnessed countless battles.
The son of King Taso stood firm, eyes blazing, heart racing, but showing no fear.
He knew that one wrong move meant death.
The bear lunged suddenly, giant claws trying to tear the boy apart.
He moved—a step to the right, then slid under the bear's arm. Smooth movement despite the danger. He raised his right hand to cast a spell.
Blood-red runic circles appeared around him, their interwoven lines spinning slowly, emitting a dark glow.
The bear attacked again, faster this time, but began losing balance after the first strike.
The air shifted around it, and its fierce blows were no longer enough.
The boy dodged skillfully, avoiding the claws with near-impossible flexibility, moving between stillness and flow. Every step calculated, every spell precise.
His runic circles expanded, lines glowing, surrounding him like real guards. They touched the air before the bear did, weakening the force of its attack.
Sweat ran down his forehead, voice trembling as he whispered the words. The spell's power gathered…
The bear roared.
The ground shook.
Its voice echoed among the stone pillars, demanding blood, demanding death, trying to dominate the boy.
The son of King Taso moved at the last moment, pressing the runes. Each blood-red beam pulsed with power, every pulse turned into a potential weapon.
The bear, in its final charge, lost balance due to the boy's speed and fluidity…
The boy did not hesitate.
He raised his hand, gathering energy in the largest runic circle.
A giant blood hammer appeared, massive, pulsing with blood, every thread radiating raw power.
The bear paused, trying to regain balance.
It was enough.
The blood hammer fell, striking the bear's head with immense force, piercing it, creating a massive blood explosion.
The sound echoed in the Stone Forest.
Rocks shook.
Blood rose in the air like a red storm.
The bear's heavy body fell to the ground, the floor shaking under its weight.
The son of King Taso stood, breathing hard, sweat pouring, but head held high, eyes glowing with determination and courage, a small smile on his face… victory for one who knows how to measure life and death wisely.
Reactions on the screen
The kings and advisors were divided between admiration and caution:
"Excellent technique… using terrain with limited control… astonishing intelligence."
Another: "But it relies on perfect precision, any small mistake is deadly… a dangerous balance."
Another king: "Strong generation, yes… but under precise instructions. Any error will cost their life, any real opponent will notice."
Korval sat, smiling, eyes sharp, as if reading every calculation, enjoying the blood of tactics, excitement, and the true danger blending in the forest.
The Second Encounter
The guards below started collecting the bear's body.
Blood spread across the stones.
The mixed scent of the monster and runic energy filled the forest, making the air heavy.
A disciple from the Assassins' Organization stepped forward, sixteen years old, eyes dark, bloodline dormant, no fear—only deadly silence.
As soon as his feet touched the Stone Forest floor, the feeling changed.
The place was no longer a testing ground…
but a killing zone.
The red wolf was there, standing on a slanted rock, massive body tensed, dark red fur gleaming as if freshly soaked in blood.
Its breaths were hot, steam rising, eyes narrowing with savage intelligence, no mercy.
The disciple did not take a combat stance.
He did not lower his body.
Did not clench his fists.
He stood…
like a shadow.
Eyes dark, emotionless, fearless.
Only cold focus, like a knife before the kill.
The wolf did not wait.
It lunged suddenly.
The stone floor cracked under its claws, terrifying speed, ten meters in an instant.
Its mouth open, fangs gleaming, aimed directly at the neck.
At the last moment…
the disciple moved.
Not a jump. Not a retreat.
A low side slide, barely inches from the fangs.
At the same time,
he whispered a short spell.
A dark blood glow wrapped his body, veins prominent, muscles tensing, speed doubled.
The wolf collided with the rock behind him, losing balance for a fraction of a second.
A fraction of a second… enough for a kill.
But the disciple did not attack.
The wolf spun quickly, roared in anger, attacked again, this time with a side claw, cutting the air like an axe.
The disciple stepped back, then another, reading the shoulder movement, neck angle, muscle tension.
Fast… but reckless.
Another spell.
Short.
Precise.
Three blood daggers formed in the air, small, thin, hovering around him slowly, like independent predatory eyes.
The wolf hesitated, then attacked.
It leapt, full weight in the air, shadow covering the disciple.
At that moment,
the first dagger moved.
Not a charge.
A sharp side slide.
The dagger sliced the wolf's rear leg.
Flesh tore.
Bone snapped.
The wolf howled, fell on one paw, balance shaken.
The disciple used the moment, moved back, no rush, no greed.
The wolf… slowed down.
Playing with its nerves.
Anger took over.
It attacked violently, strikes random, claws tearing the stone, teeth snapping.
The disciple withdrew, changed angles, drove it toward the stone pillars, limiting its movement.
The second dagger launched.
Precise strike.
Left eye.
Blood exploded, a wild scream tore through the forest.
The wolf hit the ground, losing partial vision, its attacks became more violent… but stupid.
The wolf attacked one last time, desperate, throwing everything left.
Fatal mistake.
The disciple did not retreat.
He stepped forward.
The third dagger moved.
Entered the eye socket…
piercing straight to the brain.
The wolf stopped suddenly.
Its body convulsed.
Breaths cut off.
Then it fell.
Heavy impact.
Blood spilled between the stones, deep silence fell over the forest.
After the Kill
The disciple stood over the body.
No panting.
No trembling.
The blood daggers slowly vanished.
The dark glow faded.
He looked at the blood on the ground…
then raised his eyes calmly.
As if saying:
This is how clean killing is done.
Reactions in the Palace
On the screen, the kings were divided between admiration and caution:
"Excellent technique… using terrain with limited control… brilliant intelligence."
Another: "But it relies on extreme precision. Any small mistake is fatal… dangerous balance."
Another king: "Strong generation, yes… but under strict instructions. Any error costs their life. Any real opponent will notice."
Korval sat smiling, eyes sharp, as if reading all the calculations, enjoying the blood of tactics, excitement, and the true danger blending in the forest.