At the same time, within a vast and imposing chamber furnished only with a long obsidian table and rows of high-backed chairs, a gathering of powerful individuals observed the unfolding events in silence. The atmosphere was heavy, suffused with authority and quiet tension.
A faint murmur rippled across the room as a handful of figures exchanged low whispers, yet the majority remained composed, their attention fixed upon a luminous orb hovering at the center of the table.
The orb served as a screen—an all-seeing eye that displayed the ongoing trial. Within its shifting surface, countless figures could be seen: some advancing cautiously through the terrain, others locked in fierce combat against various beasts.
However, among all the participants, three individuals commanded the greatest attention.
The heirs.
Commander Chris sat among the observers, his expression betraying a subtle yet unmistakable delight. His fingers tapped lightly against the armrest of his chair as his gaze lingered on a particular scene.
"Promising seeds… worthy to be nurtured," he murmured.
Displayed within the orb was a young man with striking golden hair, his movements swift and merciless. Beasts fell before him as though they were nothing more than livestock prepared for slaughter. His efficiency was terrifying—each strike precise, each motion devoid of hesitation.
"What a monster," one of the observers remarked.
The speaker was a man with raven-black hair and a neatly trimmed mustache that accentuated his refined features. There was a certain maturity in his bearing, a quiet confidence that spoke of immense authority. He was none other than the Wingveil Clan head, regarded as one of the strongest figures within the human domain.
"That boy possesses extraordinary talent." someone said while tapping his fingers to the table
"Hoh… it seems he has captured everyone's attention," another voice interjected.
This time, it came from a towering figure with a massive frame that was impossible to ignore. His deep blue hair cascaded over his shoulders, complemented by eyes that mirrored the unfathomable depths of the ocean.
His presence was as imposing as it was enigmatic.
He was the DeepDweller Clan head
As he stroked his chin thoughtfully, a faint smirk formed on his lips.
Despite their remarks, several individuals seated around the table merely snickered in quiet amusement. Their interest in the golden-haired youth was undeniable, yet none dared to act upon it. To do so would invite consequences—consequences none of them were willing to face.
For at the far end of the table sat a man who had not uttered a single word.
He simply observed.
Calm,Silent, Unshaken.
His presence alone commanded absolute dominance.
Golden hair shimmered faintly under the ambient light, and his piercing golden eyes seemed to reflect an authority that transcended ordinary understanding. The pressure he exuded, even while seated, was overwhelming—enough to force an ordinary individual to kneel in submission.
To face him was to stand before the sun itself—blinding, inescapable, and absolute.
He was the Draconis Clan head
The unyielding,the strongest,the inevitable.
Thus, the room fell into restrained silence once more, the observers content to watch rather than interfere.
Most participants within the trial were ignored entirely—mere background figures in a grander narrative.
Among them was Zephyr.
Unnoticed,insignificant—at least for now.
Meanwhile, deep within the training grounds, Zephyr continued forward.
For several minutes, he encountered no threats. The absence of danger brought him a measure of relief; he had no desire to rely once again on the mysterious black flame. The memory of its destructive power and the toll it had taken on his body remained vivid.
Yet the calm did not last...
Soon, his eyes locked onto a figure lurking ahead.
A beast.
It resembled a wolf, though far more menacing in both form and presence. From head to tail, it stretched nearly six feet, standing at approximately four feet tall on all fours. Its fangs deep crimson in hue gleamed ominously, capable of tearing lesser creatures apart with ease. Its fur, dense and hardened, possessed a metallic resilience akin to steel.
It was an apex predator.
A Bloodfang Wolf.
Known for their intelligence and strategic prowess, Bloodfang Wolves were not mindless hunters. They were calculating, patient, and deadly—often hunting in coordinated packs to ensure success.
But the one before Zephyr was alone.
And wounded.
A deep gash marred its abdomen, while numerous injuries covered its body. Blood stained its fur, and its movements were unsteady, its steps uneven.
'Can I kill it?' Zephyr wondered.
Doubt crept into his mind. He was painfully aware of his limitations.
Earlier, he had struggled even to pierce the hide of a mountain boar. Facing a creature like this faster, smarter, and far more lethal—was a risk bordering on recklessness.
Yet the opportunity was undeniable.
A wounded predator.Still dangerous,
Perhaps even more so.For desperation could drive a creature beyond its natural limits.
'Damn it… I won't grow stronger if I keep hesitating,' he resolved, forcing to conquer his fear, Zephyr began to formulate a plan.
He lowered his body and moved cautiously, minimizing noise and maintaining distance. Wolves possessed keen senses exceptional hearing and an acute sense of smell. A single misstep could alert the beast instantly.
Even in its weakened state, the Bloodfang Wolf remained a formidable threat.
Slowly, deliberately, Zephyr crawled into position. He observed the wolf's movement, tracing its path and anticipating its trajectory.
He would have only one chance.
One strike to decide everything.
Time passed.
The wolf continued forward, unaware—or perhaps simply too exhausted to notice.
Zephyr tightened his grip on his katana.
'Now…'
In a sudden burst of motion, he propelled himself forward, channeling all his strength into a single, decisive strike.
The wolf reacted...Despite its condition, its instincts flared to life. It twisted its body at the last possible moment, narrowly avoiding a fatal blow.
Still, the attack connected.The blade sliced across the upper portion of its abdomen, deepening its already grievous wounds.
'Damn it! It dodged!' Zephyr cursed inwardly.
His ambush had only partially succeeded.
The wolf let out a deafening roar, its voice laced with fury and pain. The sound reverberated through Zephyr's skull, leaving his ears ringing.
Before he could recover, the beast lunged.
With bloodshot eyes and terrifying speed, it twisted its body mid-motion, jaws opening wide as it aimed to tear him apart.
Zephyr forced himself to move.
Despite the disorientation, he maintained his grip on his weapon. There was no longer any room for strategy.
The plan had failed.
This was now a direct confrontation.
The wolf staggered slightly, its injuries catching up to it, yet its ferocity remained undiminished. Appearances were deceptive—its mind was still sharp, its intent still lethal.
They faced each other.
Man and beast. Both wounded. Both desperate.
A single mistake would mean death.
Without warning, the wolf charged again. Its claws lashed forward, aiming to rend flesh and bone alike.
Zephyr did not retreat.He steadied himself, focusing entirely on the moment. He could not match the wolf's speed—so he chose precision instead.
Timing,control and clarity.
Then—They clashed.
The wolf's claws tore into Zephyr's shoulder, carving deep into flesh. Blood erupted from the wound, staining the ground beneath him.
But Zephyr did not falter.
Enduring the pain, he drove his body forward, executing a perfectly timed counter.
His blade descended.A clean, decisive strike.
For a moment, everything stood still.
Then—Blood fell like rain.
The wolf's body trembled before collapsing heavily onto the ground. Its crimson-stained fur glistened under the dim light as life slowly faded from its eyes.
Silence followed.
The Bloodfang Wolf had fallen.Its end was as brutal as its name suggested.
Zephyr stood over the lifeless body, his chest rising and falling heavily. Blood—both his and the beast's—dripped onto the earth.
He had won.
But not without cost.
And deep within him, he understood—
This was only the beginning.