The casting circle flared—and the world snapped back into shape.
Vael hit solid ground, knees bent. Dirt. Grass. The hum of magic still buzzed faintly in his ears. Around him, trees framed a wide clearing - a field ringed by dense forest.
Dozens of students stood scattered across the area. Some already grouped up. Some alone. Tense. Watching.
An instructor stood on a raised stone platform at the center. Older, sharp-eyed, arms crossed over a dark uniform.
"Listen up," he barked. The crowd quieted.
"The rules are simple. Somewhere in this forest is your target — a Goblin Lord. Big. Armored. Nasty. It's not a rumor. It's real. Some of you may hear it before you see it — it's loud when it moves."
He scanned the students. "Your job is to kill it."
A few shifted uneasily.
"The final blow doesn't matter. If it dies and you're still standing — you pass."
Murmurs. A few sighs of relief.
"But rankings matter."
The crowd stilled again.
"Roughly eight hundred of you are in this trial. Only fifty will be accepted into the Academy."
A ripple of tension moved through the group.
"Everyone who survives and completes the Hunt passes. But passing isn't enough."
He let the silence hold a moment.
"Only the top fifty point-holders make it in. The rest — you walk away empty-handed. Come back next year. If you're lucky."
A stunned silence. Then—
"That's insane," someone muttered.
"What kind of test is this?"
"A Goblin Lord? That's a field commander. We're students, not soldiers."
The instructor ignored the voices, gaze cutting across them like a blade.
"This is the Order," he said coldly. "We don't take everyone. We don't care how hard you tried. We care whether you can win."
He raised one hand, fingers lifting as he counted off.
"Points come from four things.
One: Contribution. Hurt the beast. Affect the outcome. The more impact you have, the more you earn.
Two: Risk. Smaller teams get more credit. Solo earns the highest multiplier — and the highest chance of dying.
Three: Leadership. Organize others. Steady your group. Step in when things fall apart.
Four: Efficiency. Goblin kills help — if you're clean. Wasting time and energy loses you ground."
He lowered his hand. "You want to survive? Cooperate. You want to rise? Earn it."
His arm swept toward the treeline.
"You've got until sundown."
A beat.
"The Hunt is live."
Feet started shifting. People broke into huddles. Others bolted straight into the woods alone.
"Vael!"
He turned.
Ryne jogged up, hair pulled back, bow slung across her back.
"Where the hell were you?" she asked.
He just looked at her. Didn't answer.
She sighed. "Whatever. You didn't miss much. Mostly nerves and chest-puffing."
A pause. She looked him over. "We're grouping up, right?"
Vael nodded.
Ryne smirked. "Good. Let's make sure we finish ahead of the rest."
They turned toward the trees.
Ryne glanced over as they walked. "Do you have any kind of plan?"
Vael shook his head. "No. I wasn't expecting to be here."
"Right." She slowed a step. "Then we need more people. This isn't something we're going to pull off alone."
"I'm fine with that," he said. "If we find the right ones."
They moved through the clearing, watching the groups forming. Most were already deep in discussion, or already heading into the forest.
Then Ryne stopped. "Something's happening over there."
A crowd had formed up ahead. Voices were raised. They moved closer, slipping between a few students to see what was going on.
Two candidates were in each other's faces - one with a heavy axe strapped across his back, the other gripping a long spear.
"You're not leading anything," the axe-wielder growled.
"You think I'm taking orders from you?" the spear-user snapped.
They both stepped back and started to draw weapons.
Then, without warning, a sudden pulse of force swept through the space between them - a wind-laced shockwave that knocked dust into the air and made the circle of onlookers step back.
A third figure stood there now. Calm. One hand still on the hilt of a sheathed sword. He hadn't moved much. But the wave had come from him.
"That's enough," he said quietly. "You want to fight, do it after we survive this."
Neither of the others answered. They backed off, tension still there, but the fight was gone.
Vael looked at the swordsman. Focused. Calm. Controlled.
Ryne stepped forward. "That was clean. You with a group yet?"
The swordsman turned to them. His voice was level. "Not yet. Thinking about it."
She nodded. "We're putting one together. Could use someone like you."
He looked between them. "What can you two do?"
"I'm a ranged fighter," Ryne said. "Precise, fast. I've done real combat.
"He's new," Ryne said. She glanced at Vael. "But he doesn't panic."
Vael held the swordsman's gaze. "If I say I'll fight, I won't run. That's all I can offer right now."
The swordsman nodded once. "Fair enough. I'm Kainen."
"Ryne," she said. "And this is Vael."
Kainen glanced over his shoulder. "My friend comes too."
A second boy stepped forward - shorter, solid build, quiet. He carried a long metal rod across his back, and his eyes were steady.
"Joss," he said.
Vael gave him a small nod. "Glad to have you."
Kainen looked back at them. "Alright. We'll join you."
Ryne exhaled. "Good. That's four of us."
She looked at the treeline.
"Let's get moving."
The group stopped at the edge of the forest, where the field gave way to thick trees and shadow.
Kainen knelt and drew a quick layout in the dirt with a finger - a simple sketch of their formation.
"I'll take the front," he said. "I can draw the beast's attention and hold its focus."
"I'll stay close to you," Joss added. "You need someone covering your flank. I can manage that."
"I'll be in the back," Ryne said. "High ground if we find any. I'll keep pressure on it from range."
They all looked to Vael.
He paused for a moment. "I'll take the sides. Anything that comes from outside the fight, I'll stop it."
Kainen nodded. "Good. Just hold your ground and stay aware."
Vael gave a quiet nod. But inside-
"You're finally about to fight for real."
The voice returned. Calm, patient, but unmistakably present - deep within his thoughts.
Vael didn't react outwardly. Just stood still a moment longer.
"Not training. Not survival. This time, you're choosing to step into danger."
"Where were you?" Vael thought, eyes fixed on the dirt.
"Watching," the voice replied..
"This path is yours to walk. This step, your first."
Vael exhaled slowly.
"You're going to teach me now?"
"While hidden. No one must know yet. You'll learn to use what's inside you without revealing it."
"What is it? This power?"
The voice didn't answer right away.
"You'll understand it when you feel it in motion. For now - listen. Watch. Survive. I'll guide your hand when it counts."
Vael blinked, focus returning to the group. No time for more questions.
Kainen stood, brushing the dirt from his hands.
"Everyone clear on their roles?" he asked.
Vael nodded. "Yeah."
"Good," Kainen said. "Then let's move."
They stepped into the trees.
They moved deeper into the woods, trees thickening around them. The sun filtered in weak rays through the canopy above.
No one spoke much. Every sound could mean something.
Then a rustle—too sharp, too fast.
"Left!" Kainen shouted.
Goblins burst from the brush, snarling and swinging crude blades.
Kainen drew his sword in one fluid motion. The edge shimmered faintly with force as he stepped into the first goblin's strike, parried, and sliced across its chest in one clean motion.
Joss followed close, slamming his metal rod into another's jaw, then twisting to drive his elbow into a third. He stayed tight to Kainen's side, creating no gaps.
Ryne dropped to one knee behind a fallen log.
"Four coming in from the right," she called.
Her bow hummed. One arrow, two—each shot precise. A goblin dropped before it even reached them. Another stumbled, shrieking, an arrow buried deep in its thigh.
Vael stood at the edge, eyes scanning. More goblins rushed from the sides. Too many to count quickly.
"Now," the voice said. "Focus. Don't flood your body with power. Channel it to your hand only."
"I don't know how."
"Yes, you do. Feel it. Like holding water in your palm. No more than that."
Vael clenched his fists. The energy stirred—wild, unstable. His skin started to hum, faint cracks of dark-black light racing along his arm. Too much, too fast.
It's overflowing.
"Breathe. Pull it back. Only the fist. Nothing else."
He grit his teeth, slowed his breath, and narrowed the focus. The power surged again—but smaller, tighter. Just enough.
A goblin leapt toward him.
Vael struck. One punch, into its chest.
The goblin flew back like a rag doll, slammed into a tree with a bone-splitting crack — and stayed down.
Kainen glanced over, eyebrow raised, but said nothing.
Two more came. Vael moved—awkward but faster now. His fist connected with the second, breaking its jaw. The third hesitated.
He turned his eyes toward it.
It ran.
The rest followed, screeching in panic as they scattered back into the woods.
Silence returned.
Kainen wiped his blade clean. "Everyone alright?"
Joss nodded. "All good."
Ryne stood, slinging her bow. "Clean shots. They didn't touch us."
Vael stayed quiet, breathing hard.
"Not enough," the voice said. "If you lose control, it won't be goblins that kill you. It'll be your own power tearing you apart."
I'm trying.
"Try harder. Or die."
The voice faded.
Vael looked at the others. They were already moving forward.
He followed.
They moved deeper into the woods, trees thickening around them. The sun filtered in weak rays through the canopy above.
Somewhere far off — a low rumble echoed. Not thunder. Something heavier.
Kainen paused. "That might be it."
No one said anything else. They kept moving.