At the very start of the competition, Cassius sat on the ancient throne, his posture relaxed but his mind calculating. The stone seat was cold even through his uniform, carved from dark granite that had stood for centuries in this abandoned castle. Dust motes drifted through shafts of pale light filtering down from high windows.
"So they teleported us into five different zones," he murmured to himself, his grey eyes scanning the vast throne room. "Completely randomized placement, which means no pre-planned teams will work..."
He drummed his fingers on the armrest thoughtfully. "Killing monsters individually gives more points through the solo bonus. But against stronger monsters, teamwork is practically required..." A slight smile crossed his face. "Individual strength and quick teamwork adaptation. What an elegant way to design a test."
His mind turned to the numbers. 1,000 points to qualify for S-Class. But that's not my goal.
"Top rank," he said quietly, his voice echoing in the empty chamber. "That's what I'm aiming for."
He leaned back into the throne for a moment, allowing himself to appreciate the view. The throne room stretched out before him like something from a forgotten age—the long King's Path leading from the entrance to where he sat, flanked by rows of ornate chairs coated in dust and cobwebs. Tattered banners hung from the walls, their emblems faded beyond recognition. The whole place reeked of abandonment and decay.
His eyes flickered with satisfaction at the dramatic setting—
Something touched his cheek from behind.
Cassius immediately bolted from the throne, spinning mid-air and landing in a battle stance fifteen feet away, his hand already reaching for his ring. His heart hammered in his chest as adrenaline flooded his system.
Aria stood beside the throne, one hand still raised where his face had been moments before. A soft smile played across her lips—the kind of smile that suggested she found his panic adorable.
"How did you even—?!" Cassius sputtered, his usual composure completely shattered. His face flushed as frustration and embarrassment warred for control. "I told you not to do that again!"
Aria's smile widened, and a quiet chuckle escaped her—a rare sound that somehow made Cassius even more flustered.
"You're impossible," he muttered, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. Then, despite himself, his expression softened. "But... it's sweet of you to come. It makes scoring top rank a lot easier."
As if responding to his words, the throne room began to fill with the sound of grinding metal. From the shadows at the far end of the hall, figures emerged—Armored Knights (C-Grade), ten of them in total. Their plate armor was rusted and pitted with age, and they moved with the jerky, unnatural gait of undead constructs. Ancient swords scraped against the stone floor as they advanced in formation.
Cassius's demeanor shifted instantly, all traces of embarrassment vanishing. "Ready?" he asked, his voice calm and professional.
Aria nodded once. The ring on her right hand glowed briefly, and a coiled whip materialized—the Serpent's Fang Whip, her signature weapon, a weapon forged from condensed magical energy and reinforced with silverthread. She flicked her wrist, and the whip cracked against the stone floor with enough force to leave a slash mark in the ancient granite.
Without another word, she rushed forward.
Cassius's fist tightened around his spear as his grey eyes tracked her movement. Now.
In an instant, Aria's speed increased dramatically—She became a blur.
Her whip slashed through the joints of the Armored Knights with surgical precision—ankles, knees, elbows, shoulders. The movements didn't make physical sense; she was taking sharp ninety-degree turns at impossible speeds, her whip singing through the air with a whistling sound that filled the throne room.
Slash. Crack. Snap.
In less than ten seconds, all ten Armored Knights were dismembered, their limbs separated from their bodies but still twitching with undead animation. They collapsed in heaps of rusty metal, unable to fight but not yet truly dead.
Aria didn't even look surprised. She casually deflected a volley of iron arrows with a flick of her whip, the projectiles clattering harmlessly across the floor. Her red eyes tracked new movement—more Armored Knights emerging from the far end of the King's Path, this time accompanied by Armored Bowmen positioned in elevated alcoves. Their eyes glowed faintly through the darkness, dozens of them.
"Perfect," Cassius said softly.
From his own ring—a twin to Aria's, worn on the same finger—a tall white spear materialized. The Ivory Piercer, elegant and deadly, its blade gleaming despite the gloom.
He walked peacefully down the King's Path, almost leisurely, stabbing each dismembered knight through the helmet.
Stab.
First knight—head pierced cleanly.
Stab.
Second knight—through the eye socket.
Stab.
Third, fourth, fifth—executed with the calm efficiency of someone performing a familiar chore.
The moment the tenth knight died, his point counter flared:
+100 points!
Cassius pulled his spear free from the final corpse and turned to Aria with a slight smile. "Was that a fine warm-up?"
She nodded, already scanning the approaching reinforcements.
"Good," Cassius said, his smile widening into something more competitive. "Let's clear this entire zone alone."
Time passed as they methodically hunted through the ruins.
"Should we speed up?" Aria asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper as they walked through a collapsed hallway.
Cassius sighed, examining their surroundings. "We're at the center of The Ironhold fortress, I think. It would be best to find A-Grade monsters for maximum efficiency."
He paused, considering. "If we speed up too much, we'll accidentally kill students in other areas. Monsters fleeing our attacks could cause collateral damage. This pace is good."
His grey eyes glinted with quiet confidence. "Besides, I'm sure we're in the lead. Don't worry."
Aria nodded, then turned her gaze toward the far right, where a massive doorway led deeper into the fortress. "Is it possible that monsters above A-Grade exist here?"
Cassius shrugged. "Probably not. The academy wouldn't risk student deaths with S-Grade threats."
Aria nodded, though her expression remained thoughtful. "I'm sensing something beyond that door. It's similar to a Death Knight... but stronger. Should we hunt it?"
"Is that so?" Cassius's grey eyes gleamed with interest.
Monitoring Control Room
The scene shifted to the faculty observation chamber, where multiple Scrying Crystals displayed feeds from all five zones. The assembled professors watched the Zone 4 feed with various expressions ranging from impressed to concerned.
"Is this even fair to the other students?" Professor Sylvia asked, her healing magic unconsciously manifesting as soft green light around her fingertips—a nervous habit.
Professor Whisper Nightshade's doll-like face remained blank as she nodded. "It's fair," she said in her characteristic monotone. "Student Cassius is near to being the first to qualify for S-Class. But Student Aria is nowhere close."
She paused, then continued with cold logic: "If this continues and Cassius aims for top rank, Aria will not qualify for S-Class at all. She seems fine with that arrangement."
Professor Helana turned to Professor Marcus "That team is perfect in soul and synergy. Are you sure they were randomized as well? For a prince and his personal guard to land in the same zone seems too convenient."
Professor Marcus rubbed his temples. "It was randomized. He got lucky." His eyes flickered toward another screen. "But I feel their lead won't last much longer. It seems Student Draekon has nearly caught up."
The scoreboard updated in real-time:
Student Cassius: 824 points
Student Draekon: 823 points
Student Ignatia : 659 points
"But above all," Marcus continued, his tone shifting to something more serious, "we've already started the second phase of the competition, correct?"
The senior student monitoring the system—Loren—nodded with a grin. "Elimination Squad has been dispatched."
The camera view shifted to Draekon, who stood atop a massive tree branch, wiping blood from his face with the back of his hand. His blonde hair was matted with sweat and gore, and his Dragon's Bracelet glowed faintly on his wrist.
Professor Luna Silverpaw chuckled, her wolf ears twitching with amusement. "He's a perfect hunter! Not only does he lure out A-Grade monsters, but he uses them as bait to bring out their natural predators!"
She leaned forward, tail swishing behind her. "As far as I can see, his hunting technique even surpasses most of our senior students!"
On screen, the forest shook violently.
Five Charging Hornbulls (C-Grade) thundered through The Verdant Meadows, kicking up massive clouds of dust that hung in the air with a faintly pinkish tint. The beasts were sweating profusely, their eyes wide with terror, paying no attention to their surroundings as they crashed through boulders and trees alike. They were blind with fear.
It ran straight into the jaws of death.
A Titan Thornbeast (A-Grade)—a massive quadruped covered in bark-like armor and razor-sharp thorns—lifted one of the bulls into the air with its enormous jaws. The bull squealed in terror as the titan bit down, severing it cleanly in half. Blood sprayed across the grass in a crimson arc..
But the Titan Thornbeast didn't notice the vines slowly wrapping around its legs.
By the time it realized something was wrong, it was too late. Thick, ancient roots erupted from the ground, binding the massive creature in place. A Grand Treant—the apex predator of the forest—rose from the earth itself, its multiple glowing eyes focusing on the captured Titan.
The air grew heavy and oppressive as the Grand Treant began draining the Titan's life force. The Thornbeast's roars weakened into pathetic whimpers.
The air grew thicker with that drugged, pinkish haze—the Grand Treant's own Narcotic Mist, designed to paralyze prey.
Both A-Grade monsters were locked in combat, weakened and distracted.
That's when Draekon made his move.
He took a deep breath, his chest expanding as his lungs filled completely. The air around him shimmered with building heat. Then he unleashed a massive Stormflame Torrent—a continuous stream of dragon fire that roared from his mouth like a liquid inferno.
The flames burned through everything.
The Grand Treant's ancient wood ignited instantly, its entire body becoming a massive torch. The Titan Thornbeast roared in agony as fire consumed it from the inside out, its bark-armor offering no protection against dragonflame. The remaining Hornbulls were incinerated in seconds.
The smell of burning wood, charred meat, and scorched earth filled the clearing. The heat was so intense it created a localized windstorm, scattering ash in all directions.
When the flames finally subsided, only smoking corpses remained.
+160 points!
Professor Kazuki nodded approvingly from the control room. "Indeed. Being born and raised in Dragon Valley made him a top-tier hunter. His instincts are exceptional."
Professor Helena frowned. "If we're talking about fairness, it seems unfair for Lyralei."
All eyes turned to Zone 1's other major competitor.
"Apart from the beginning of the exam," Professor Helena continued, "she hasn't encountered a single A-Grade monster. They're all being slaughtered by Draekon before she can find them."
"If he continues at this pace..." Professor Whisper said quietly, "it's going to be him that wins."
Student Loren chuckled from his monitoring station, a knowing grin on his face. "Let's see about that. After all, they still have to get through us, right?"
On the screen, shadowy figures moved through all five zones—members of the Elimination Squad, concealed and waiting.
Lyralei walked through The Verdant Meadows, swinging a severed Fire Lizard eyeball by its optical nerve like a grotesque pendulum. Her expression was cold fury incarnate.
"So it's him," she muttered darkly. "Coming out of his way to issue a challenge, then systematically clearing out all the high-point monsters before I can reach them..."
Her skin prickled with uncharacteristic heat—not from the environment, but from pure competitive rage. She was surprised by how much she was itching for a fight.
I will not back down.
Black lightning crackled violently around her body, responding to her emotions.
She took her combat stance, power coiling in her muscles like a compressed spring. "I'm going to kill everyone who gets in my way!!" she hissed.
Then, suddenly, something touched her head from behind.
Her extremely sensitive spatial awareness hadn't detected anything—no mana signature, no sound, no presence—until the very instant of contact.
A calm, soothing voice spoke directly behind her:
"That's a big no-no. 'Everyone'? I think you need to be held back for that kind of thinking."
Lyralei's spine went rigid with instinctive fear. The towering presence behind her sent shivers through her entire body. She bolted forward, executing a sweeping retreat that put twenty feet between them in an instant.
Such a powerful presence, and yet completely blank until she was so close! How?!
"So who's the one annoying such a pretty lady?" the voice asked with genuine curiosity.
Lyralei stared at the source.
She herself was tall—nearly 6'5"—but she felt dwarfed under this woman's presence.
The woman wore a flowing mage's dress in pristine white, and her face was concealed behind a plain white porcelain mask with no features except eye holes. Lush white hair cascaded down her back, and her sun-kissed skin contrasted beautifully with the pale clothing.
The masked woman hummed thoughtfully, then casually flicked her fingers.
A lightning bolt struck Lyralei's cheek with surgical precision—not enough to cause serious damage, but enough to draw blood. The sharp, burning pain made Lyralei flinch.
The woman blew on her fingertips as if cooling them down.
"This is what killing intent actually looks like," she said, her voice still soothing and almost motherly. "If my juniors think unleashing it is a pleasure for others, perhaps they need a near-death experience to adjust their perspective."
Lyralei's eyes narrowed dangerously, black lightning coiling tighter around both hands. Blood trickled down her cheek, warm against the cool forest air.
The hunt had just changed entirely.