Lorian tore through the jungle, a relentless force of death weaving through the dense foliage. His boots whispered against the sodden ground, leaving faint imprints quickly swallowed by the undergrowth. In his hand, Shade of the Night hummed with dark energy, its obsidian blade slicing the humid air with every fluid motion. Beasts fell before him in a brutal ballet—each kill swift, precise, and merciless.

  A C-tier Razorclaw burst from a tangle of vines, its talons slashing toward his throat, glinting like polished steel in the dim light. Lorian twisted aside, his body a blur, and countered with a single arc of Shade. The blade carved through the creature’s sinew and bone, spilling crimson onto the jungle floor as it collapsed in a twitching heap. Before he could catch his breath, a B-tier Thornboar barreled toward him, its spiked hide bristling like a living fortress. The beast’s tusks ripped through a nearby tree trunk as Lorian dropped low, rolling beneath its charge. With a guttural grunt, he thrust Shade upward, piercing its soft underbelly. The boar’s squeal echoed briefly before he wrenched the blade free, letting the creature crash down in a spray of blood and broken spines.

  He pressed on, cutting down anything that dared cross his path—a D-tier Venomtail, its stinger severed mid-strike; an A-tier Ironfang, its jaws split apart by a downward slash. His movements were mechanical, almost effortless, a predator honed to perfection. Sweat stung his eyes, but he wiped it away with a blood-streaked forearm, his chest heaving. Too easy, he thought, a flicker of unease threading through his satisfaction. These beasts should be more of a challenge.

  Then it struck him—a thought so sharp it felt like a bullet piercing his skull. Lorian froze, his grip tightening on Shade as his mind raced. Why are the presences fading so fast? He activated the Emptiness, his vision washing into a muted blue haze as his senses unfurled, probing the island’s heartbeat. The mana signatures of beasts and candidates alike pulsed in his awareness—but they were vanishing. Rapidly. Too rapidly.

  How is this possible? His pulse quickened, dread coiling in his gut. I can sense them—dozens of mana beasts, their energies snuffed out in seconds. And the candidates—so many dropping, their signatures blinking out like stars swallowed by a storm. There’s no way they’re killing this many beasts this quickly. And the candidates… too many are dying. How? His thoughts spiraled, clawing for answers. The top three are skilled, sure, but not capable of slaughtering half the island in mere minutes. And the beasts—they’re not weak enough to fall this fast. Something’s wrong. Something’s hunting them.

  The realization barely settled when a monstrous pressure crashed over him, a tidal wave of force that buckled his knees. The air thickened, pressing down like a mountain collapsing atop him, squeezing the breath from his lungs. Lorian staggered, planting Shade into the earth to steady himself. His voice trembled, raw with shock and fear, as he rasped, “What… what is this pressure?”

  It wasn’t mana—not the familiar ebb and flow he knew. This was something deeper, older—a primal weight that gnawed at his bones and prickled his skin with icy dread. His mind reeled. This isn’t part of the test. It can’t be.

  Across the island, Yenika Lunavar carved her own path through the chaos, a tempest of silver and steel. Her blade, a moon-themed masterpiece of Lunavar artistry, gleamed in her grasp. Its silver grip was intricately etched with crescent moons, faintly glowing with each swing as if kissed by lunar light. The blade itself curved gracefully, slender and lethal, its edge a shimmering sliver of night honed to cut through anything—beast or shadow.

  A pack of A-tier Shadowhounds surrounded her team, their eyes glinting with feral hunger. Yenika stepped forward, her silver hair whipping in the wind like a battle flag. “Lunar Blade: Crescent Fang!” she commanded, her voice cutting through the growls. She swung her blade in a wide, sweeping arc, mana surging along its edge in a radiant flare. Silver light erupted, fracturing into multiple crescent-shaped blades that sliced outward in every direction. The hounds didn’t stand a chance—their bodies shredded mid-air, dissolving into ash and smoke as the crescents tore through them like butter through a hot knife.

  Her teammates whooped in triumph, and Yenika turned to them, wiping a smear of blood from her cheek. “Good work,” she said, a rare smile softening her stern features, her pride evident in her steady gaze.

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  But the moment shattered. Her smile faltered, then vanished, as her eyes fell on a nightmare. Her team—moments ago alive and cheering—lay strewn across the ground. Their bodies were charred husks, smoldering in the dirt. One girl’s head rolled toward Yenika, severed cleanly, her lifeless eyes frozen in terror as it came to rest at her feet. The rest were unrecognizable, reduced to ash and blackened bone, the air heavy with the reek of burned flesh.

  Yenika’s breath caught, her blade trembling in her hand. “What…?” She stumbled back, voice breaking. “Hey—get up! You guys—this isn’t—”

  A shadow loomed through the smoke, and her words died. A tall figure emerged, standing on two legs, but it was no beast she recognized. Flames rippled across its entire body, curling from its skin like a living inferno. Two jagged horns twisted from its forehead, and its eyes—crimson, molten, as if forged from the heart of a blaze—locked onto her with predatory intent. The ground hissed and blackened beneath its steps.

  Yenika’s heart pounded, her mind racing through every bestiary, every legend she’d ever studied. Nothing fit. This was something unknown, something impossible. This isn’t supposed to be here, she thought, raising her blade with white-knuckled resolve. I won’t die here. Not like this. But beneath her defiance, a whisper of doubt gnawed at her: What is this thing?

  The monster flung its arms wide, its jagged claws glinting in the dim jungle light, and let out a bone-rattling scream—“KUAHHHAAAA!” The sound tore through the air, a primal roar that sent shudders down Yenika’s spine and scattered flocks of birds into the sky. The sheer force of it seemed to warp the atmosphere, heat shimmering around the creature’s hulking form.

  In an instant, it surged forward, closing the gap between itself and Yenika faster than her eyes could track. Its flaming fist reared back, embers trailing like a comet’s tail, and smashed toward her with devastating power. She reacted on instinct, raising her moon-etched sword to block, but she was too slow. The punch slammed into her, a deafening crack echoing as a blast of flames erupted from the impact. The force launched her backward like a ragdoll, her body crashing into a gnarled tree trunk with a sickening thud. Blood sprayed from her mouth, staining her lips as she choked out a pained, “Khh…!”

  Her vision blurred, but her mind raced. What is that thing? she thought, gripping her sword tighter, its silver hilt cool against her trembling fingers. Its mana… it’s enormous. I can feel it—like a tidal wave crashing over me. The crescent designs on her blade flickered faintly, as if mirroring her faltering resolve.

  The monster didn’t relent. It thrust its clawed hand forward, unleashing a roaring torrent of flames that surged toward her like a living inferno. Yenika’s heart leapt into her throat. With a desperate twist, she threw herself to the side, the fire scorching the ground where she’d been moments before, leaving a smoking crater in its wake.

  Still airborne from her dodge, she gritted her teeth and swung her sword with all her might. “Lunar Blade: Eclipse Thrust!” she cried, her voice cutting through the chaos. The blade shot forward, a streak of silver light hurtling toward the monster’s head with pinpoint precision. But to her disbelief, the creature sidestepped effortlessly, its fiery form flickering as if mocking her. Before she could recover, it launched another blazing punch, flames licking the air as it closed in.

  Time seemed to slow. Yenika saw the fist barreling toward her, unstoppable, and braced herself for the end. But then—a flicker of movement. A shadowy figure materialized beside her, scooping her up in a firm, unyielding grip. In the blink of an eye, they vanished, dissolving into thin air just as the monster’s punch roared through empty space, its flames fizzling out in frustration.

  When the world snapped back into focus, Yenika found herself slumped against a tree, her body heavy with exhaustion. Her rescuer stood nearby, his black hair tousled, eyes sharp and unyielding. Lorian. He spared her a fleeting glance before turning to face the monster, which was now prowling the clearing, its crimson gaze searching for its prey.

  “So this is the reason behind all the things that are happening,” Lorian muttered, his voice low and laced with realization. He set Yenika down gently, her consciousness slipping away as her head lolled against the bark.

  The monster’s eyes locked onto him, its flames flaring brighter, sensing a new challenge. Lorian’s lips twitched into a faint, defiant smirk. Without a word, he melted into a thick pool of shadow, disappearing entirely. The monster’s head whipped around, a confused growl rumbling from its throat like distant thunder.

  Then, in a heartbeat, Lorian reappeared behind it, his form emerging from the darkness like a phantom. “Shadow Blade: Dusk Rend!” he declared, his tone cold and lethal. His sword, Shade of the Night, sliced through the air in a swift, horizontal arc, trailing a ribbon of inky smoke. The blade struck the monster’s face dead-on, carving a deep gash across its grotesque features. A spray of dark, viscous fluid—perhaps its blood—burst forth, splattering across the jungle floor.

  The shadowy trail left by the slash didn’t fade. Instead, it lashed out again, a second strike that tore across the monster’s chest, leaving another oozing wound. The creature staggered, its scream of rage and pain shaking the trees, but Lorian stood his ground, blade poised, eyes gleaming with resolve.