A single, long blink, and the suffocating darkness of Hope Forest vanished.
Henry stood in a brightly lit, familiar grassy clearing. The freezing air and the terrifying pack of mostly red wolves were gone, replaced by the isolated arena of the System.
Across from him, pacing with lethal grace, was the white Wind-Mana Dire Wolf, the exact same beast that he had spent a year trying to best with limited success.
"I just hope they triggered their trials in time," Henry said aloud, his voice echoing slightly in the empty space. His first thought wasn't about his own fully restored body, but whether Recruit 1 and Recruit 7 had understood his command and escaped the ambush.
Before he could dwell on it, a glowing blue screen materialized in the air before him.
Trial: Foundation Establishment - Level 10
Opponent: Wind-Mana Dire Wolf (Level 10 Equivalent)
Objective: Slay the Target.
Do you accept the Trial?
Henry took a long, deep breath. The drastic transition from being backed against a cliff wall with an almost zero percent chance of survival to the brief, controlled reprieve of the System arena was jarring. He took a few more seconds to steady his racing heart.
"Yes," Henry said.
Select Weapon of Choice.
'Should I use a greatsword or an arming sword?' Henry debated quickly. He had spent two years of his previous life wielding a greatsword; he was intimately comfortable with its crushing weight and momentum. But he hadn't touched one in three months, and more importantly, he had never tested the defensive footwork of the Lower Regium style with a blade that massive.
With his current circumstances, he decided to play it safe.
"Arming sword."
A perfectly balanced steel blade materialized in his right hand.
Note: Defeating the Wind Wolf will not produce a Mana Core.
Beginning in: 10... 9... 8...
As the countdown ticked lower, the sheer gravity of the situation settled heavily on his shoulders. If he failed this trial, it wasn't just as simple as waiting another month to retry; he would be thrown right back into the Hope Forest. And if the red wolf pack was still waiting when his body rematerialized, failing this trial meant a permanent, gruesome death.
...3... 2... 1. Commence.
The invisible barrier separating him from the beast shattered.
Predictably, the Wind-Mana Wolf lunged, a blur of white fur and gnashing teeth. But this time, Henry didn't back down. He lunged forward to meet it, throwing his own momentum directly against the beast's charge.
Their forces clashed violently. The sheer kinetic impact of the Level 10 beast pushed Henry sliding backward through the grass, his boots carving grooves into the dirt.
'If I had opened my hips for that block, like the second strike of the Sinclair style, I might've won that exchange,' Henry analyzed in a split second.
The thought was fleeting as the wolf descended on him in a furious flurry of claws and fangs. Henry fell back on his training. He caught every single strike perfectly, weaving his arming sword in tight, efficient arcs.
It was a combination of the balanced Lower Regium defensive stance and his traumatic, intimate familiarity with this exact opponent's attack patterns.
'It's a lot easier to track these movements in the daylight than it was in the dark, that's for sure,' Henry thought, his confidence surging.
Sensing its frontal assault was failing, the wolf adjusted. It feinted a right claw swipe, raising the limb just enough to draw Henry's eye, then instantly planted the paw and exploded forward. It bypassed his guard entirely, snapping its massive jaws directly toward his neck.
Henry, slightly faked out by the feint, couldn't bring his sword up in time. But his wide, centered stance saved him.
Relying on his balance, Henry leaned back just far enough to let the snapping teeth graze past his throat. With his off-hand free, he stepped into the dodge and unloaded a brutal power jab right into the wolf's nose.
The wolf yelped, stunned by the blunt force, and instinctively backpedaled. Henry immediately snapped his wrist, bringing his sword up in a vicious backhand slash, but the blade whistled through empty air, narrowly missing the retreating beast.
"This is my chance!"
Refusing to let the beast recover, Henry went on the offensive. He relentlessly pursued the slightly disoriented wolf, raining strikes down on it.
His blade bit into the wolf's paws and front legs, drawing blood, but he couldn't get the proper depth or leverage to deliver a fatal blow.
His muscles began to burn. The adrenaline was wearing off, and a dangerous fatigue was setting in. The wolf had the inherent endurance advantage; if this dragged on, Henry knew he would lose.
"I need to end this. Now."
Letting out an aggressive scream, Henry feinted a classic Lower Regium center-balanced horizontal sweep.
The wolf, reacting to the extended length of the blade, immediately darted to the left to slip under the attack. But Henry had anticipated it.
At the last possible millisecond, he further widened his stance, violently swinging his hips open. He seamlessly converted the horizontal momentum, rotating his wrists and bringing the sword down in a heavily practiced, devastating overhead strike, pure Sinclair style.
The steel cleaved squarely through the wolf's left shoulder, burying itself deep into the bone.
The beast collapsed to the grass, letting out an agonizing howl. Henry offered it no reprieve. Ripping the blade free, he reversed his grip and drove the sword straight down into the wolf's skull, pinning it to the earth.
The wolf shuddered once, and the arena fell completely silent.
Panting heavily, his arms trembling from the exertion, Henry let go of the hilt and fell to his knees. A tired, genuine smile broke across his sweat-drenched face.
"I... I did it."
"Haha... I really did it!"
Henry's breathless chuckle quickly bubbled over into a full-blown, echoing laugh. He threw his head back, laughing like an absolute maniac to the empty sky of the arena.
It was pure, unfiltered catharsis pouring out with every sharp exhale. The suffocating weight of his past attempts, the lingering phantom pain of his throat being torn out by this exact beast, the grueling months of preparation, the constant, creeping fear of history repeating itself, finally shattering.
Still chuckling and shaking his head, he planted his hands on his knees and began pushing himself up from the grass.
Halfway to his feet, a soft, synthetic chime interrupted the quiet of the arena. A brilliant blue light flared directly in his line of sight, casting a cool glow over his sweat-drenched face as a translucent System panel materialized in the air before him.
Trial Verdict: Passed.
Rank F Achieved.
The blue text on the panel shifted, forming a new, glowing line of text:
To activate the System, hold the intent and state: System Stats.
Before Henry could even open his mouth to follow the instructions, the translucent screen suddenly collapsed in on itself. It condensed rapidly, folding into a dense, blinding sphere of blue energy. Without warning, the orb shot forward, sinking directly into the center of his chest.
The impact didn't hurt. Instead, a sensation of absolute weightlessness washed over him, as if gravity had completely relinquished its hold on his body.
A rhythmic pulsing ignited in his core, radiating outward through his veins like liquid fire. Henry watched in pure awe as the muscles in his arms, already shredded, lean, and heavily calloused from months of grueling training, began to physically expand. The muscle fibers thickened, packing on a strange, foreign mass and density while retaining every ounce of their hard-earned definition. Most of the imperfections on his body faded, almost as if he had been granted a new body.
He clenched his fists, feeling the incredible raw power coiled beneath his skin. The sheer kinetic potential was overwhelming. He felt like his fragile human framework had just been torn down and rebuilt with solid steel.
'This is incredible,' Henry thought, his breath catching in his throat.
Slowly, the intense, floating euphoria began to recede, leaving behind a grounded reservoir of boundless energy coursing through his blood. Anchoring himself in his new reality, Henry took a steadying breath, focused his intent, and spoke the command nice and slowly.
"System... Stats."