The sun hung low over the training field, casting long shadows across the stone courtyard. A faint wind stirred the banners, making them snap like blades. The recruits were herded into pairs, each tasked with facing either a simulated beast or another participant. The air hummed with tension. This was the moment when talent became visible, and weakness, fatal.
Colonel Zhang's voice carried over the field.
"Your final evaluation begins. Precision, strength, and tactical understanding will determine your rank. Fight with honor — or leave in defeat."
A row of mana-imbued cages opened, revealing beasts of increasing threat: intermediate-tier thunder boars, serpentine water wyrms, and fiery raptors. Each candidate was matched carefully, forcing them to engage creatures slightly beyond their personal level. For those who survived the first trials, the field would test adaptability under threat.
I glanced at Alex. He exhaled slowly, letting the hum of spatial mana pulse through his body. I could see the subtle glint of flame under my skin, my mana still trembling from the speed and control trial.
Our first challenge was straightforward but dangerous: a thunder boar, double the size of a normal one, red eyes gleaming. Its hooves struck the ground like sledgehammers.
"Stay sharp," I murmured to Alex.
The boar charged before the words had left my mouth. I rolled aside, barely avoiding the strike. Sparks erupted where its hooves scraped the reinforced stone. Alex sidestepped too, letting mana threads trail behind him like whip cracks to distract the creature.
I thrust my palm forward, fire blooming in my hands, and struck the boar across the chest. The explosion sent it stumbling, but it recovered instantly, tusks lowered. Its red eyes locked on Alex.
"No!" I shouted, intercepting just in time. Flames erupted from my fingertips, connecting with the boar mid-charge. Its body shook violently. I dodged again as it whipped, hooves splintering the stone where I had been a heartbeat before.
Alex unleashed a spatial blade, severing one of the boar's tusks as the creature lunged. Sparks flew, and the air vibrated with raw energy. Together, we forced it down, coordinating our attacks instinctively.
Finally, with a joint strike—my flames striking the chest, Alex bending space beneath its hooves—the thunder boar collapsed. Its core pulsed faintly, ready for absorption.
We didn't pause. The next beast emerged: a massive bull, larger than any we had seen in the wild. Its horns were sharpened like spears, its hide nearly impenetrable.
I realized immediately that brute force wouldn't work. Its speed was deceptive. One misstep, and a horn would pierce me like a nail.
Alex murmured, "Watch its rhythm."
I studied the bull, tracing its step pattern. Its hooves struck the ground at intervals — slow, then quick, then slow. Timing was everything. I adjusted my fire pulses to coincide with the weak beats of its motion. Each strike didn't harm it but destabilized its footing.
The bull roared, bellowing as its momentum faltered. I struck again, igniting a flare at its flank, and it staggered. Alex used spatial compression, creating a brief vacuum beneath it, making it lose balance entirely. I landed on its back, flames trailing down its spine, and with one final coordinated strike, we brought it down.
By now, the weaker recruits had collapsed or been ejected from the field. Only the strongest remained, and among them, we were clearly at a different level.
Next came a leopard, nearly as large as the bull but faster than any leopard I had encountered. Its claws gleamed like daggers. Its speed made dodging almost impossible. I let it leap past me, landing behind it with a sudden flash of flame. The beast spun midair, landing and slashing at Alex with incredible precision.
I could see the sharp panic in the eyes of other candidates — they were no match. Alex countered, bending space around him, dodging effortlessly while channeling threads of mana to weaken the leopard's grip.
It was a deadly dance. Every strike carried force, every move required calculation. I could feel my body teetering on the edge of collapse, my mana reserves nearly drained from constant output.
Finally, we cornered the leopard, flames binding its movement, spatial energy compressing its strikes. One last coordinated blow and it collapsed, leaving behind its pulsing core.
Our final trial was an ape with extraordinarily tough fur, its fists like steel, swinging with blinding speed. I almost faltered, taking a punch that cracked the reinforced training stone beneath me. Alex grunted, countering, but even his reflexes were tested as the ape's strength seemed limitless.
I realized brute attacks would fail. I had to control my mana precisely, strike at pressure points exposed only briefly, anticipate its next swing with spatial awareness. Each strike I made was a near-death gamble — one miscalculation, and my body would be shredded.
The ape roared in frustration as we adapted to its rhythm, burning it with controlled fire strikes and bending its movement through spatial compression. After relentless assault, it finally collapsed, exhausted, leaving its core behind.
Breathing heavily, I looked at Alex. He mirrored my exhaustion, mana threads still shimmering faintly around his form.
The Colonel's voice rang out from the platform. "Impressive. Few have completed all four stages. Even fewer have done so while coordinating with a partner."
We didn't smile. Not yet. We were alive, yes, but the battlefield had already taught us humility — and the next trials would be even harder.
Alex's hand brushed against mine. "We've still got the Heart Mirror coming," he whispered.
I nodded. "And whatever comes after, we face it together."
Above, Colonel Zhang's eyes lingered on us once more. There was something unreadable in them — a flicker of interest, recognition, perhaps even caution.
And for the first time in a year, I realized that the world outside the mountain was far bigger and more dangerous than anything we had faced.