Nyx Hollow – Day One, Hour One.
The realm was vast.
Contrary to what the students had imagined, it wasn't a dungeon, a forest, or even a battlefield. It was all of those things and more—stitched together like the fever dream of a mad god.
On one side: a petrified forest whose trees sang when the wind passed through them, their whispers muttering words that didn't belong in any language. On another: crumbled ruins that seemed older than time, half-swallowed by corrupted vines that pulsed with mana.
Canyons split the land like old scars. Rivers of liquid ether flowed in lazy spirals. Creatures stalked the edges of every biome—some watching, others waiting.
And overhead, the sky bled slow, purple lightning into clouds that never rained.
This was Nyx Hollow, and it was very much alive.
---
Near the northern edge, Elias Varn stood alone on the bough of a massive dead tree, looking over a valley swarming with translucent insectoid monsters.
He didn't move. Didn't blink. Only whispered.
"Class C to B range. Movement patterns predictable. Weak points... exposed after four seconds of aggression."
He marked locations in his spellbook and muttered, "Mana drain is heavier here than projected. Five spellcasts before internal burnout."
Elias tapped the air.
[Status Updated: Coordinates marked.]
[Target Priority: Conservation Mode – Active]
Then he sat down and began… meditating.
Not to rest. But to conserve every drop of mana for the hours to come.
Elias didn't care about points. He cared about control.
---
Meanwhile, in a corrupted basin farther west—
Rogan D'rell's party had already slain two beasts and were camped near a shattered fountain.
A girl with pink ribbons bandaged a claw wound on her arm while Rogan roasted monster meat over a makeshift fire.
"Stick close," he said to his team. "Day one is always bait. The Hollow's testing us."
He glanced at the sky. "Day three is when the real purge begins."
His summoned Ice Bear grunted in agreement.
"Where's Kingslay?" asked one of the girls, chewing.
"Hopefully dead," Rogan replied with a smirk.
---
Elsewhere, deep in the Hollow's eastern fringes—
A group of bottom-rankers were already falling apart.
They had formed a five-person team before entering.
Now, only three remained.
"He got dragged into the swamp!" screamed a skinny boy, eyes wide with terror.
"No, no, no—we're supposed to work together!" cried the alchemist girl with the monocle from earlier.
But their leader—Sven, a swordbearer—was already packing his bag.
"Split up. This place kills slow thinkers."
He left without looking back.
---
Back at the Academy, within the Obsidian Tower—
Twelve professors stood before the giant mirrors, each showing different "feeds" from inside Nyx Hollow.
They weren't just observers. They were analysts.
"Sector D has collapsed," Professor Yulina noted coldly. "A distortion is forming there. We should reinforce the barrier before students start teleporting into unstable zones."
Headmaster Varion nodded once, hands behind his back. "Casualties?"
"Two have already been ejected. Minor injuries. No fatalities yet."
"No fatalities… yet," murmured Professor Merin, the enchantment theorist. "But something stirred in the Hollow thirty seconds ago. A high-tier energy spike."
One of the mirrors flashed.
A scene played—grainy, crackling with static.
A lone student standing in a crater.
Energy pulsing off his body in jagged arcs.
Zane Kingslay.
"That's the Kingslay boy," Yulina muttered. "The dropout."
"Look at that signature," Merin frowned. "It's unstable. Corrupted. That's not mage training… that's something else."
"Did he… awaken?" another professor asked.
"Unclear," Varion replied. "But that explosion triggered a chain reaction. Sector H has begun to shift. Creatures are migrating toward him."
"Then he's dead."
Varion said nothing.
But he stared at the mirror for a long, silent moment.
---
Back in Nyx Hollow – Sector H
The trees were gone.
The crater still smoked.
Zane lay on his back, motionless, a bloody hand clenched around the shattered remains of the mana stone.
His jacket was half-burned. His left boot was missing. There was a burn scar running down his neck to his shoulder.
But his chest… was still rising.
Barely.
Nearby, the husk of the Behemutt was still twitching, its head twisted at an unnatural angle.
But Zane hadn't seen what happened next.
Because the explosion that saved him had also broken a seal.
And now—
They were coming.
---
A shadow fell over the clearing.
Massive.
Unnatural.
A creature made of shadows and teeth slithered just beyond the tree line. It didn't walk—it flowed. Like smoke with intent.
It sniffed the air once.
Paused.
Then turned away.
Dozens of similar beings were crawling toward Zane's direction, lured by the raw chaos his skill had released.
Zane twitched.
His eyes blinked open.
Blood trickled from his lip.
He heard nothing.
But the System did.
> [Warning: Sector H is now a Grade-A Hostile Zone.]
[Auto-Healing Suspended. Corruption Level: Rising.]
[S.A.S.S. Comment: Good job, idiot. You just turned this place into your funeral pyre.]
Zane coughed. "Still… alive…"
He tried to move his hand. Couldn't.
A shadow loomed closer.
A howl echoed—deep, distorted, like something trying to remember how to be a wolf.
Zane turned his head slightly—
And his eyes locked onto another student.
Not just any student.
Elias Varn.
Watching from a cliff above.
Expressionless.
Unmoving.
Unhelpful.
Then he disappeared into the fog without a word.