The mist swallowed the trail as soon as Team Three stepped past the outpost border. The forest air was cool, damp, and carried an earthy scent that hinted at both life and danger. Tall trees stretched upward like pillars, their branches woven into a natural ceiling. Patches of faint blue mana drifted around them like floating fireflies.
Zayle inhaled deeply.
"So this is the famous Rift Forest… looks friendlier than I expected," he said.
Lyra glanced at him. "Please don't say things like that. The forest can hear you."
Lin Fei adjusted his glasses, already sweating. "The forest cannot hear him… but the beasts can. And statistically speaking, saying tempting statements like that increases the probability of—"
Zayle lifted a hand. "Lin Fei, buddy, if something wants to eat me, it's going to need great effort and emotional commitment. I'm very high-maintenance."
Lyra covered a laugh.
Ahead of them, Instructor Lyselle did not turn around, but her voice drifted back—calm, sharp, and cold as steel. "Cross, if a monster jumps out because of your unnecessary commentary, you are responsible."
"Oh good," Zayle whispered. "Responsibility. My favorite."
They followed her deeper along the mist trail. Every few steps, Lyselle stopped to check footprints, disturbed leaves, or faint mana trails. Her awareness seemed absolute—nothing escaped her.
Lyra whispered, "She's like a walking radar."
Zayle nodded. "A scary one."
Lin Fei looked around nervously. "I read the patrol guide three times. They said outer beasts are Grade 1 to 2. Manageable. As long as we stay close and don't act recklessly."
Zayle blinked.
Everyone slowly turned to stare at him.
"…Why are you all looking at me?"
"Because," Lyra said gently, "you are the definition of reckless."
Zayle considered that. "Fair enough."
They continued onward until the mist thinned, revealing a small clearing. Sunlight pierced through the canopy in scattered rays.
Lyselle raised a hand.
The team halted.
"There are fresh tracks. Stay alert," she said. "We proceed in scouting formation. Lyra, mid-range support. Lin Fei, rear vision. Cross, front."
Zayle stepped forward without hesitation.
"Understood."
His pulse quickened—not from fear, but from something burning deeper. A part of him had been aching for real combat, something beyond training halls and practice dummies.
As they moved, the forest sounds changed. The wind quieted. Birds fell silent.
Zayle felt something.
A prickle across his skin.
A shifting of mana in the air.
His instincts sharpened.
"Wait," he whispered.
Lyselle did stop this time—her eyes flicked toward his shoulder.
"You sense something?"
Zayle nodded. "Left side. Something's… watching."
Lin Fei nearly dropped his notebook.
Lyra tightened her grip on her staff.
Lyselle's expression didn't change, but she said, "Good. Keep focus. Continue."
They advanced.
Ten steps.
Twenty.
The air thickened.
Then—
A rustle.
A snap.
A blur.
A small beast lunged from the bushes—a Rift Fangling, wolf-shaped, matted fur, teeth sharp, eyes glowing faint blue. Grade 1, fast but fragile.
Before anyone shouted, Zayle was already moving.
He dashed forward.
Lyra yelled, "Zayle, wait—!"
Too late.
Zayle leapt aside as the beast lunged, then twisted mid-air and kicked off a tree trunk to gain height. His body angled downward, sword flashing in an arc.
The beast snapped up at him.
Zayle smirked.
"Bad dog."
Steel met fur.
A clean strike—
But the Fangling rolled back, fast.
Zayle landed, boots sliding slightly. The beast snarled.
Zayle twirled his sword lightly. "Alright, warm-up it is."
The Fangling rushed forward with surprising agility.
Zayle dodged, then counter-attacked with a quick slash. The beast stumbled and collapsed.
Before he could celebrate—
Another growl.
Then a second.
Then a third.
Lyra shouted, "There's more! Three… no, four!"
Lin Fei paled. "They're moving in pack behavior… this is unusual…"
Lyselle stepped forward but didn't intervene. Instead, she spoke calmly, "Team Three. Formation. Defend yourselves."
Zayle's grin widened.
"Finally."
Three Fanglings darted toward them from different angles. Zayle met the first head-on, slipping under its leap and slashing upward. The creature howled and fell.
Lyra chanted sharply behind him, sending a burst of shimmering force that knocked another Fangling off course.
Lin Fei, though trembling, lifted a talisman and activated it. A small barrier flared around him and Lyra.
Zayle parried another beast's bite, turning his blade sideways to redirect its momentum, then drove his knee into its ribs. It yelped.
He wasn't afraid.
He wasn't unsure.
He fought like someone who had lived through worse—far worse.
And yet—
He made one mistake.
A fourth Fangling he hadn't noticed leapt from above, claws extended.
"Zayle, behind you!" Lyra shouted.
He spun.
Too slow.
The beast slammed into him, sending him crashing into the ground.
Pain shot through his back. The creature's claws dug into his shoulder.
Zayle gritted his teeth.
"Seriously… you guys don't know personal space."
The Fangling snapped at his neck.
Zayle grabbed a handful of dirt and smashed it into the beast's eyes.
It recoiled.
He seized the moment—rammed his knee upward, knocking the beast off balance, rolled, then pinned it with his sword.
The Fangling thrashed.
Zayle's shoulder burned, blood dripping steadily, but he drove the blade down with force.
The beast stilled.
Silence filled the clearing.
Lyra rushed over. "Zayle! Are you okay?"
Lin Fei looked horrified. "You're bleeding!"
Zayle sat up with a wince, wincing but not panicking. "It's fine. I've had worse—like that time I fell from the dorm roof. Long story."
Lyra stared. "…Why were you on the dorm roof?"
"Practicing balance."
Lin Fei blinked. "Why were you practicing balance there?"
"Because the ground hurts less when you fall from higher. It's psychological training."
Lyra opened her mouth, closed it, then sighed. "I don't think that's how psychology works."
While they bickered, Lyselle approached.
Her gaze swept the fallen beasts, then Zayle.
"Cross."
He looked up. "Hey, Instructor."
"You charged too far forward."
"I know."
"You overextended without confirming enemy count."
"I know."
"You nearly died."
Zayle tilted his head.
A beat.
"…I know."
Lyselle crouched slightly, studying the blood on his shoulder. Her expression remained unreadable.
"Your instincts are sharp. Your reactions are faster than expected. Your courage is… inconveniently abundant." She paused. "But courage without discipline is recklessness. And recklessness kills."
Zayle didn't smile this time.
He met her gaze seriously.
"I'll improve."
Her eyes narrowed slightly, as if weighing his words.
"See that you do."
She stood and addressed the team.
"Good work. You maintained formation, supported each other, and responded quickly. That is why you are still alive."
Lin Fei exhaled shakily. "I thought we were going to die…"
Lyra rubbed her arm. "I didn't expect a pack this deep in the outer forest."
Zayle cleaned his blade and rose.
"We're still standing. That means we're doing fine."
His wounded shoulder throbbed, but he pushed the pain aside. He always did.
Lyselle turned toward the deeper forest. "We continue. This forest is shifting. Something is driving the beasts outward. Stay alert."
They moved on, deeper into the Rift Forest.
Zayle walked ahead again, but this time—
He was more cautious.
More focused.
Not cowardly—just sharper.
Lyra moved beside him. "Hey. That was still impressive. Even if it was stupid."
Zayle shrugged. "I prefer the word 'heroic'."
Lin Fei muttered, "Recklessly heroic…"
Zayle grinned. "See? Compliments all around."
As they traveled, Lyselle suddenly spoke again.
"Cross."
"Yes, Instructor?"
"You fought well. But you must learn the difference between courage and self-destruction."
Zayle blinked.
Then nodded.
"…I understand."
"Good." Lyselle faced forward. "I do not dislike students who fight. I dislike students who die."
Zayle paused mid-step.
For a moment, something warm flickered behind his chest.
Then he smiled.
"I'll try to be… less die-able."
Lyra laughed. "Please be more than 'less die-able.' I don't want to explain to the class that you tripped over a monster and died."
Zayle smirked. "If I die, it'll be because I went out with style."
Lin Fei looked pained. "Please don't go out at all."
They walked for another half hour until they reached a wider clearing with scattered stones. Lyselle raised her hand.
"We rest here for ten minutes. Do not wander."
Zayle sat on a fallen log, letting his shoulder breathe. Lyra used a mild healing spell to slow the bleeding. Lin Fei scribbled notes about the Fanglings like a man possessed.
Zayle stared into the trees.
He knew one thing now—
Textbooks couldn't teach this.
Simulated fights couldn't mimic it.
This was survival.
And he could feel the truth deep inside:
The gap between talent and true survival was enormous.
And he was still far, far behind.
But instead of discouragement, a spark lit inside him.
He wanted to catch up.
He wanted to surpass.
He wanted to be strong enough that no pack of beasts, no bully adventurer, no rival magister, and no villainous family could ever make him feel cornered again.
He clenched his sword lightly.
"Next time," he murmured, "I won't get caught off guard."
He wasn't afraid of trouble.
He never had been.
He just needed to become strong enough to win every time he found it.
And trouble always found him.