The gates to the hunting grounds swung open with a thunderous clang, the sound echoing across the surrounding mountains. A wave of mana surged through the air, prickling the skin of every student present. Beyond the gates lay forests thick with predators, jagged cliffs hiding deadly drops, and rivers that shimmered with mana currents. This was no ordinary forest—it was a testing ground, crafted by centuries of magical expertise, designed to challenge even the strongest of students.
Cael stepped forward calmly, his boots barely making a sound on the soft grass. The forest's aura shifted as he moved, subtle ripples of blood-sense flowing through the area. With a single glance, he could feel the heartbeat of the trees, the life force of hidden monsters, and even the faint pulse of rival students nearby. He did not hurry. He did not panic. He simply observed.
Mockery and Anticipation
Behind him, the academy's senior representatives whispered nervously. Some of the students from other schools had already begun sneering.
"Look at the academy's juniors," one taunted. "Do they really think this boy can survive out here?"
A group of other schools laughed, their confident tones echoing mockingly across the forest edge. "We'll see how long it takes before he's eaten alive," another jeered.
Even the Frostveil heiress stood silently nearby, her silver-blue hair reflecting the sunlight. She said nothing but studied him carefully, noting the calm, almost unnerving precision of his movements. He did not react to the whispers, the mockery, or the stares. It was as if none of it reached him. That indifferent air… it drew her curiosity, sharper and deeper than any polite intrigue or admiration she had ever felt before.
The First Encounter
The forest was alive with movement. Wolves with fangs as long as daggers slinked through the underbrush, venomous serpents twisted in the shadows, and large, mana-infused creatures stirred beneath fallen trees. This was the opening wave—the organizers' way of testing instinct, observation, and skill.
Rival schools charged forward recklessly. One group attempted to set traps, hoping to ambush weaker competitors. Another charged blindly into the forest, shouting as though courage alone could protect them. Many failed almost immediately, falling victim to monsters or hidden mana wards.
Cael walked calmly, his blood humming beneath his skin. A wolf leapt at a student from another academy—a reckless boy who had mocked him earlier. Without a word, Cael extended a thread of crimson blood from his fingertips. It struck the wolf mid-air, redirecting its attack. The wolf crashed into a nearby tree and fell unconscious, stunned but alive.
The student stumbled back, staring wide-eyed. "W-what…?"
Cael didn't respond. He moved on, silently observing the surrounding area for further threats.
Frostveil Heiress in Danger
The Frostveil heiress, trained in frost manipulation, was not unskilled. She had erected protective ice sigils and barriers, her magic precise and controlled. Yet even she could not anticipate everything.
A massive serpent, its body shimmering with shadow-infused scales, lunged from above. She barely had time to cast a defensive spell when Cael stepped in, his movements fluid and precise. Blood surged through his veins, extending outward in almost invisible threads. The serpent's blood was manipulated subtly, forcing it to recoil mid-leap and crash into the forest floor.
The heiress watched, stunned. She had expected someone strong to survive the forest—she had not expected someone like him. Her eyes, wide and alert, betrayed more than curiosity now.
"Thank… thank you," she said softly, her voice almost a whisper.
Cael didn't look at her. He moved on as if she had spoken to a stranger. "Focus on the hunt," he murmured, voice calm, detached.
Her curiosity deepened. He was so indifferent, so unbothered, yet so overwhelmingly capable. Everyone wanted his attention, yet he gave none willingly.
Rival Schools' First Sabotage
From the shadows, students from other schools whispered and cast subtle spells meant to interfere with Cael's movements. Minor mana curses, poisoned traps, and illusions were all designed to either slow him or endanger his path.
Cael noticed them all instantly. Threads of his blood moved invisibly through the air, reading the intent and aura of those attempting interference. One by one, the curses fizzled harmlessly, the illusions dissipated, and the traps misfired.
He was aware of the Crimson Order descendant among the observers, his eyes dark with fury. The descendant had not yet acted directly, but the intent was unmistakable: Cael would be sabotaged, and they would attempt to humiliate him in front of the world.
Cael's eyes narrowed subtly, but only enough for the faintest glint of crimson light to flash beneath his irises. He would wait. Let them make the first move—they would learn quickly that he did not respond to provocation in ordinary ways.
Subtle Displays of Power
Cael's Blood Immortal abilities were unlike anything the other students had ever seen. His blood could take forms almost unconsciously:
Threads that snaked silently through the trees, sensing threats and guiding monsters away from weak competitors.
Crimson constructs that could act as shields, blades, or traps without any visible movement.
Manipulation of monster instincts, forcing creatures to attack those who underestimated them or turn away from his path.
All this occurred silently, without ceremony, without fanfare. Observers felt it in their bones, a terrifying presence they could not explain. Whispers ran through the crowd:
"What… what is he?"
"His blood… it's alive."
"No senior could ever do this…"
Even the Frostveil heiress remained cautious, her attention split between the forest and the boy whose indifference made her pulse quicken with interest.
First Signs of Rivalry
As the hunt progressed, the Crimson Order descendant stepped forward slightly, finally deciding to interfere. He cast a hidden mana curse toward Cael, attempting to destabilize him in front of observers.
Cael, however, anticipated it effortlessly. Threads of crimson blood shot outward, intercepting the spell mid-air. The curse backfired slightly, staggering its caster just enough to draw attention. The heiress watched, silently impressed—not by brute strength, but by his control, foresight, and the calm precision of every movement.
The descendant's expression darkened. His plan to humiliate Cael had failed before it began. This junior… this boy… was not just strong. He was untouchable in ways that no one had expected.
Setting the Tone
By midday, chaos reigned among lesser competitors. Some were injured, some trapped, and a few were already eliminated. Cael, however, moved through the forest like a shadow—unseen, untouched, and unbothered.
The Frostveil heiress had begun following him more closely, curious despite herself. She observed him saving others, intervening with minimal effort, and remaining entirely disinterested in social interactions or admiration.
To her, and to many watching from afar, it was mesmerizing. Here was someone who did not seek attention, yet commanded it simply by existing.
And for the first time in the tournament, it became clear: this competition would not be ordinary. It would not just test skill, strategy, or strength. It would reveal power that the world had not seen in centuries.
Cael's eyes glinted faintly crimson as he moved deeper into the forest. He did not rush. He did not panic. He merely walked forward, a predator in a land of prey.
And everyone—competitors, observers, and rival families alike—would soon realize that underestimating him would be a grave mistake.