Ezra got bored after sitting in one place for too long. The silence of the forest pressed on him, and the way the cold wind cut through his clothes made him restless. Pushing himself up, he stretched his arms until his joints cracked. His bag hung loosely on his shoulder, and in his other hand he carried a wooden arrow he had carved earlier.
The trial was almost over. Just a little longer and he would be free from this nightmare. But Ezra knew better than to relax. The Silverback Dire Wolves were still roaming out there. If he dropped his guard even once, it could end with his throat torn out.
He trudged deeper into the forest, each step sinking slightly into the snow. The ground crunched beneath his boots, and his breath came out in short bursts of white fog. After some time, he noticed a patch of land different from the rest.
Bamboo trees rose around him. Their green stalks stood tall and straight, spaced widely enough that the ground was more open compared to the denser forest behind him. The bamboo forest floor carried less snow, the stalks shielding the earth from the worst of the snowfall. Ezra paused, scanning the area, and an idea crept into his mind.
Dropping his bag, he drew his dagger. The blade glinted faintly under the filtered sunlight as he pressed it to a bamboo stalk. Cutting bamboo with just a dagger was no easy task, his hands ached with every strike, but he kept at it. Slowly, piece by piece, stalks came down. Some were thick and solid, others slimmer, easier to handle.
He looked around, studying the terrain. The bamboo grove was spacious, the gaps between stalks wide enough to move around without much restriction. There was room to set things up. Ezra's lips curled into a smile.
"I could use this terrain as a good place to set a trap for those wolves," he muttered. His tone was quiet, but the thought gave him a surge of energy. The cold no longer bothered him as much.
A few steps ahead, beyond the bamboo grove, taller trees loomed. The ground there remained just as open, without tangled bushes or fallen logs. Seeing that, his grin widened into something sharper, almost malicious.
"Alright, I've made up my mind." He clenched his fist tightly, eyes gleaming with determination. "Before this trial ends, I'll kill at least one hunting pack of Silverback Dire Wolves."
He wasted no more time.
Ezra began working on traps. First, he dug into the ground with his dagger and bare hands. The snow and soil were a bit hard, but he forced his way through until he carved out a pit. It was deep enough that if a Flanker-class wolf fell in, it wouldn't climb out easily. At the bottom, he planted sharpened bamboo stakes, arranging them like teeth pointing upward.
He wiped the sweat from his brow and moved to the next plan. Using ropes he had made earlier back in the safe zone, he tied them between two sturdy bamboo stalks. The rope was thin but strong, stretched at just the right height that if a wolf charged blindly, its legs would tangle and send it tumbling. He set multiple of these across the grove, connecting trees in a pattern that could confuse both man and beast.
Satisfied with the groundwork, Ezra turned his attention to something bigger. He climbed a tall bamboo stalk, balancing himself against its smooth surface. From his bag, he pulled the remaining bamboo sticks and his dagger. Piece by piece, he began shaping the bamboo into parts. His dagger acted as a chisel, shaving slivers off until the stalks fit together.
What he was crafting wasn't elegant. It wasn't polished. But it was dangerous.
The rough shape of a gun took form in his hands — a bamboo tube reinforced with layers of shaved stalks, bound together by rope and tightened with wooden wedges. He carved a simple trigger mechanism using split bamboo and fitted it to the side. Inside the barrel, he smoothed the hollow space to let projectiles fly cleanly. For ammunition, he shaped small bamboo bolts, sharp at the tip, heavy enough to pierce flesh.
When the weapon was complete, he gripped it with both hands and tested its weight. It felt awkward, but usable. He crouched in the tree and spotted a rabbit hopping across the snow below. Narrowing his eyes, he raised the bamboo gun, aimed, and squeezed the trigger.
Thwip!
The bolt shot out with surprising speed, slicing through the air. In the next instant, the rabbit collapsed, pierced cleanly. Ezra's hand throbbed from the recoil, and he hissed through his teeth. The kick was stronger than expected, painful even. Still, the weapon had worked.
Not as powerful as a real firearm, not even close, but in this place it was enough. Enough to kill rabbits. Enough to wound wolves. Enough to let him take revenge.
As the sun dipped lower, Ezra gathered his things. He sprinkled powder. No Scent Herb over the traps and along the paths he had walked, covering every trace of himself. Slinging the rabbit over his shoulder, he started moving back toward his base.
By the time he arrived, shadows stretched long across the snow. And that was when he noticed her.
A figure lay slumped near the entrance to his shelter. Ezra froze, his body tense. Slowly, he approached, dagger in hand. The closer he got, the clearer it became — he recognized the face.
"Gena…"
Her body was a mess. Cuts and slashes marked her arms and legs, but none deep enough to be fatal. Blood had dried across her skin, and her breathing was shallow. Ezra checked her pulse with careful fingers. Alive. Just fainted from blood loss and exhaustion.
He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Damn… she's going to kill me when she wakes up."
Still, he couldn't leave her there. He lifted her onto his back almost stumbling carrying both her and the few belongings she had left into the shelter. First thing he did was scatter more No Scent Herb at the entrance and over their trail. Only then did he sit her down and start dressing her wounds.
His hands moved quickly but gently, tying cloth over cuts, cleaning away the blood with melted snow. When he finished, he sat back, exhaling.
Minutes later, Gena's eyes fluttered open. She blinked at the glow of the campfire and instantly tensed. Her body curled inward, clutching the blanket wrapped around her. She looked like a cornered animal, eyes darting around. When her gaze landed on Ezra, she froze.
"You… you're alive," she whispered in disbelief.
Ezra didn't respond. He sat by the fire, sharpening his dagger with steady strokes, sparks flicking from the blade.
Gena's eyes darted lower, noticing her stitched clothes and freshly bandaged wounds. Her face flushed red. "Did you…?" Her voice rose sharply. "You pervert!"
Ezra clamped a hand over her mouth, his eyes sharp. "Quiet. The No Scent Herb masks smell, not sound. If you scream, wolves might track us here."
Her anger faltered. She bit her lip, humiliated, but the truth of his words sank in. "…I'm sorry. And… thank you."
"Ehn. That's modest, coming from you," Ezra replied flatly, going back to sharpening his dagger.
"Huh? What's that supposed to mean?" she snapped. When he didn't answer, she muttered, "You sound just like Zara with that arrogant tone…"
Ezra's hand paused for a second. "So, you do know about me and my twin brother."
"Is that why you saved me?" Gena asked, eyes narrowing.
"Not really. I'd have saved anyone in your state. But I wouldn't have brought them here. You, I brought back because I wanted to hear how you knew about me."
She let out a dry laugh. "The way you talk, someone might think you've lost your memories. Well, you didn't look like one to be remembering things easily"
Well, I do have a good recollection of past events but when it comes to interactions with people I only met once, I don't bother remembering events like that.
He thought to himself, feeling awkward.
Then she explained. "You know I'm from a lower-line branch too. Our families know each other, especially our dads and I normally played with your brother and some other noble kids during gatherings. Once, he bragged about using clone Alchemy… and dragged you out in front of us." She frowned, remembering. "Had us all fooled."
Ezra smirked faintly. "So, you thought it was really Alchemy?"
"What do you expect? You two looked exactly the same, and none of us even knew you existed back then. Zara was always arrogant, but we believed him." She rubbed her head, embarrassed. "Later, we found out the truth. When Zara and his goons bullied you, and you suddenly started bleeding… your mother stormed in. She slapped Zara so hard his smug face froze. Honestly, I was happy to see it."
At the mention of his mother, Ezra's expression faltered. For a moment, he looked distant.
"What is it?" Gena asked quietly.
"Nothing." He forced a smile and handed her a plate of cooked rabbit meat.
She accepted it with surprise. "Thank you." Hunger took over, and she ate quickly.
Ezra's voice cut in softly. "I'm sorry, Gena."
She stopped, mid-bite, stunned. "What?"
"About your hand. About Marcus."
Her face twisted, and she shook her head. "Stop. It's not your fault. I already stopped caring when you protected me from those arrows. I didn't even know Marcus well enough to grieve. You know. I killed my closest friend myself in the first trial." Her laugh was bitter, tears spilling as she spoke. "I shot her while looking into her eyes. I don't want to die, Ezra. I really don't. I thought I could rest when Lady Vera saved me, but instead I was thrown back into danger. Sometimes I think dying in the first trial would have been easier. Looking at it now, the peasants I once looked down on as bottom feeders… now look at me. In the eyes of the highline and mainline kids, I'm the same kind of bottom feeder. Heh…There's no difference between me and a peasant in this trial."
Ezra studied her face. Her trembling hands. Her tears. Then he spoke, calm but firm. "Instead of dying, wouldn't it be better to grow stronger? Even if it hurts."
"But how? I'm weak. I'm nothing like Lady Vera, or the others around her. I'm disposable. They don't care if I lived or died. Honestly, peasants on the street might do better than me if they were in my shoes." Her hands clenched in frustration.
Ezra chuckled faintly. "We're just kids, yet we sound like adults. Grow stronger, Gena. I won't die in a place like this. I'll live a long life, with money and women at my side." He laughed, almost to himself. "So, you should survive too. I'm with you."
Her eyes widened. "Huh?"
"Vera was right. Surviving alone is risky. So, let's be friends. Help each other." He extended his hand toward her.
She stared at him, wiping her tears. "Friends? Work together? Are you trying to be a leader?"
"No. You're still with Vera, right?"
"Obviously."
"Then it's settled. You'll be my informant, and I'll help you grow stronger."
"What if I'm caught? They'll kill me painfully."
"Don't worry. You'll be fine."
Her lips pressed tight. She glanced at his hand again, then reached out and shook it. "…As long as I can survive."