The Control Chamber
Five massive Scrying Crystals floated in the center of the circular room, each one displaying a different testing zone in perfect clarity. Smaller monitoring crystals lined the walls like glowing eyes, tracking individual students as they moved through the Proving Grounds.
Professor Marcus stood at the central console, hands clasped behind his back, watching the feeds with the practiced eye of someone who'd overseen dozens of these exams.
"Alright," he said. "Let's see what this generation has to offer."
Professor Gareth leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a grin splitting his bearded face. Beside him, Loren—a senior student with long purple hair tied back in a practical ponytail—sat at a monitoring station, his fingers dancing across an array of control crystals.
"All three hundred students have landed safely in the five zones," Loren reported, his purple eyes scanning the readouts. "The Thornwick Proving Grounds are fully operational."
Marcus nodded. "And the monster distribution?"
"Zones one through five each contain monsters ranked F through A-grade," Loren continued. "Distribution is randomized but balanced. No zone has an unfair advantage."
"Good." Marcus rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Monitor the situation closely. If any student loses consciousness or sustains critical injuries, teleport them back immediately. We're testing their abilities, not trying to kill them."
The five main Scrying Crystals flickered, adjusting focus.
Zone 1: Verdant Meadows showed Lyralei perched on a tree branch, surveying the landscape below with predatory focus.
Zone 2: The Burning Wastes displayed Ignatia standing completely still as a massive dust storm approached from the horizon, her white hair whipping in the wind.
Zone 3: Frostwind Tundra captured Serina trudging through deep snow, arms wrapped around herself, visibly shivering as arctic winds howled past her.
Zone 4: Ironhold Fortress revealed Prince Cassius sitting casually on an ancient stone throne inside a ruined castle, looking for all the world like he owned the place.
Zone 5: Shadowmere Forest showed Lilly face-down in mud, groaning, while Vera snickered behind her. Trees stretched impossibly high above them, their canopy blocking out most of the sunlight.
Professor Marcus leaned forward slightly.
"First points," he announced. "Let's see who claims them."
Professor Vincent—the thin man with mechanical augmentations visible on his arms—tapped his Enchanted Tablet. Numbers began scrolling across the glowing surface as combat data poured in from all five zones.
"Points incoming," Vincent said. "First scorer is..."
He blinked.
"Student Lyralei Valen. Sixty-one points."
Every professor turned to look at the Zone 1 crystal.
Zone 1: Verdant Meadows
Lyralei stood on the tree branch, perfectly balanced, her black hair tied back in a high ponytail. Her academy uniform had already been modified—sleeves rolled up, jacket open for freedom of movement.
She looked down at the clearing below.
A herd of C-grade monsters grazed peacefully, unaware of the predator watching them from above.
Perfect.
She jumped.
Not gracefully—not some elegant descent. She just dropped, boots-first, like a meteor.
And when she hit the ground—
CRACK.
The earth didn't just crack. It shattered. A spiderweb of fractures exploded outward from the impact point, tearing through grass and soil, uprooting stones, and sending everything within a ten-meter radius flying into the air.
Including the monsters.
Razorhorn Elk. Grassland Raptors. Meadow Hounds. A Plains Griffin that had been circling overhead. Several Stampede Boars.
All C-grade. All helpless in midair.
Lyralei grabbed a handful of small stones from the ground and threw.
Her aim was perfect.
Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack.
Each stone hit a monster's skull with pinpoint accuracy and lethal force. Instant kills. Every single one.
The monsters fell back to earth, lifeless, their bodies hitting the ground in rapid succession.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Lyralei landed gracefully in the center of the carnage, brushing dust off her sleeves.
Then she paused.
Her expression turned thoughtful—almost worried.
What if he doesn't make one thousand points?
She ran a hand through her hair, suddenly looking stressed.
Damn it. I should've explained the system better. The solo kill bonus, the point values, the strategy...
Behind her, a Bullhorn Beetle—a massive insect the size of a horse, with a horn like a spear—charged at her back.
She didn't turn around.
A black line slashed through the air.
First Form: Flash Severance.
The beetle split cleanly in half horizontally, both pieces hitting the ground with wet thuds.
"Honestly," Lyralei muttered, "I can't babysit that idiot."
She looked around the zone, considering her options.
"Let's scan the area while farming points. If I run into him, I'll... get him to make points somehow."
She paused.
"Actually, let's just forget about him."
A grin spread across her face—sharp, competitive, hungry.
"Time to hunt seriously."
She became a blur.
Stone Golems—B-grade monsters made of living rock, each one eight feet tall and covered in moss—emerged from the treeline.
Lyralei didn't slow down.
She punched straight through the first one's chest, her fist shattering its stone body and ripping out the glowing core at its center.
The second Golem swung a massive fist.
She caught it.
Twisted.
And tore its entire arm off, then drove the stone limb through the Golem's head like a spear.
Control Chamber
Professor Whisper leaned forward, eyes narrowed beneath the hood.
"So this is the highest-level freshman we have this year?"
Professor Luna—a cheerful woman with wolf ears and a tail—grinned, her ears twitching with excitement.
"Perfection!" she said. "She's not just strong—she's efficient."
"She's enjoying herself," Vincent observed, watching Lyralei's expression on the crystal.
"Good," Marcus said. "A warrior who enjoys combat is a warrior who'll survive it."
Zone 1: Verdant Meadows
Lyralei stopped.
The ground was trembling.
Something massive was approaching.
A Grand Treant emerged from the forest—an A-grade monster, easily thirty feet tall. Its trunk was as thick as a tower, covered in ancient bark inscribed with glowing green runes. Branches moved like whips. And its eyes—
Multiple eyes, dozens of them, blinked from knots in the wood, all focusing on Lyralei.
It roared—a sound like a forest screaming.
And swung a branch the size of a battering ram directly at her.
Lyralei caught it with both hands.
The ground beneath her feet cracked from the impact, but she didn't move.
Then she pulled.
The Treant's roots tore free from the earth—centuries of growth ripped up in a single moment.
Lyralei spun, swinging the massive creature like a club, smashing it against the ground repeatedly.
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
When she finally stopped, the Treant was in pieces—branches snapped, trunk split, runes flickering and dying.
She reached into the wreckage, ripped out the monster's core—a glowing green sphere the size of her head—and crushed it in her hand.
"Easy," she hummed, tossing the fragments aside.
Then her eyes widened.
A shadow passed overhead.
A Giant Wyvern—another A-grade monster. Massive wings blocking out the sun. Scales like black steel. Claws that could shred armor. It was diving straight toward the remains of the Treant—probably attracted by the noise and the scent of a fallen monster.
Lyralei's hands crackled with energy.
Black lightning formed between her fingers, coiling and sparking.
Lightning Manipulation.
She took a combat stance, ready to—
The Wyvern crashed.
But not into her.
It slammed into the ground right on top of the Treant's remains, already dead, its neck severed clean through.
And standing on the Wyvern's corpse, holding a massive Double-Edged Battle Axe that gleamed silver in the sunlight, was a figure with lush blond hair.
He swung the axe with casual ease, beheading the Treant's barely-moving remains in one clean strike, then landed in front of Lyralei with a soft smile on his face.
"Sorry," Draekon said. "Did I steal your prey?"
Lyralei chuckled, the black lightning dissipating from her hands.
"Are you okay with killing your relatives?" she asked, gesturing to the Wyvern. "I thought dragons were supposed to stick together."
Draekon laughed—warm, genuine, disarming.
"That's offensive," he said, grinning. "Dragons are elegant, noble creatures. Wyverns make fine pets when properly trained, but they're hardly family."
So my zone layout is the same as in the game, Draekon thought, his mind already calculating. Perfect. I can use my knowledge to maximize points and build affinity with Lyralei.
This area is a sound-dampening zone in the game.
Time to make my move.
He landed fully on the ground, and the massive axe vanished—absorbed into the Dragon's Bracelet on his right wrist.
Lyralei's eyes narrowed.
Her hands folded across her chest.
Is that a soul weapon?
Soul weapons were rare. Extremely rare. They had their own consciousness, their own pulse. You could feel them watching you, evaluating you, judging whether you were worthy.
And this one had been staring at her.
Draekon lifted his hand, showing off the bracelet with obvious pride.
"It's certainly something else," he said. "A soul weapon, after all."
Lyralei scoffed.
"Are you a child on a field trip?" she asked. "Showing off toys?"
Draekon's grin widened.
"Maybe. But I'm a mischievous child."
He took a step closer.
"So let's do this. How about you and I have a Heart Duel?"
Lyralei's eyes widened—just slightly. Her relaxed posture stiffened.
She stared at him directly now, all traces of amusement gone.
A Heart Duel.
He's challenging me to a Heart Duel.
Her mind raced.
The Valen family couldn't refuse a Heart Duel. It was written into their house code—the knight's code that had been passed down for generations. To challenge a Valen to a Heart Duel was to challenge the honor of the entire house.
And they had to accept.
"Really?" Lyralei said slowly. "Aren't you a strange one."
Draekon nodded.
"You see, I need allies," he said. "You know what I am. The Hero. And I can't just sit around waiting for people to randomly get the courage—or experience enough tragedy—to develop the heart to follow and assist me."
He spread his hands.
"So I'll make my own team. By winning them over."
"So in exchange for a soul weapon from your side," Lyralei said, her voice carefully controlled, "you want me?"
She laughed—sharp, cutting.
"I must say, you're delusional enough to think I'd bet myself on the line."
"Scared?" Draekon asked. "That you'll lose to me?"
Lyralei's grin sharpened like a blade.
"It wouldn't suit my goals to have a bracelet laced with the Hero's blood," she said coldly. "Plus, that soul weapon belongs to the Dragon King, doesn't it? Someone raised in his lap—do you really think you have his fangs to bite me?"
Draekon's expression didn't change.
"It used to belong to him," he said. "It belongs to me now. I've bonded with it. And not only do I believe I can defeat you..."
He stepped closer.
"I also believe I can score more points than you in this exam."
Lyralei remained silent.
But her mind was racing at lightning speed.
This whole thing is too sudden.
She was actually... nervous?
She wanted to laugh at herself.
She wasn't the type to get nervous facing ten knights at once. But the aura radiating from the Hero—the absolute confidence, the certainty in his eyes—
She had no doubts that she was stronger than him. At least by a significant margin. She could assess it clearly.
And Draekon must know it too. He wasn't blind. He could sense the difference in their power.
So why?
Is it confidence from the soul weapon? Or something else?
Am I failing to sense something about his aura?
No.
Lyralei had to face the truth.
She'd never been challenged to a Heart Duel before.
Ever.
The only person she'd seen challenged was her father.
Once.
Despite her father being known as potentially the best swordsman in all the realms, the atmosphere in the Valen estate that day had been intense. The next day, the battlefield was soaked in blood.
Her father had won, of course.
But the house had been in distress for a week afterward.
And now, facing her own first challenge, she couldn't help but understand the creeping pressure she felt every second the Hero stared at her.
Why Mother was worried. Why the whole family tensed.
A Heart Duel was inherently supposed to be an equal exchange. That was the foundation—equivalent stakes on both sides.
But the clause in the Valen family code required them to accept regardless, as per the ancient knight's honor.
Which meant most Heart Duels were straight-up unfair to the Valen family.
And she certainly couldn't weigh a soul weapon as equal to her life.
All of this raced through her mind in a single heartbeat.
The next heartbeat, she was calm. Her mind cleared of all unnecessary thoughts.
Seeing her silence, Draekon spoke further.
"If you are that scared to exchange blows with me"
"Whoever scores more points in this exam gets the bracelet," he said.
He paused.
"Or do you need me to add handicaps?"
Lyralei's eyes flashed.
"You're pushing it," she said, her voice dangerously soft, "by insulting me with handicaps."
She stood firm, black lightning beginning to crackle around her hands.
"Scrap the handicap. Consider me in. For the duel."
Her grin returned—sharp, vicious, confident.
"I will not only score more points than you in this exam—I'll wipe the floor with you afterward to win that soul weapon in the Heart Duel proper."
Black lightning erupted around her, arcing across the ground, leaving scorch marks in the grass.
Draekon nodded.
"Then consider it done."
He raised his right hand, the bracelet glowing.
"p nǝʅ ɥǝɐɹʇ ᴉu ʍǝɐdo u soʇʅ ɐ qɹɐɔʅǝʇ pɹɐǝƃou ᴉ ʇǝq ɯʎ"
he said—but the words came out wrong.
Not wrong. Different.
They weren't in any language Lyralei recognized, but she understood them perfectly. They resonated in her chest, in her very soul.
True Speech.
The language of binding oaths.
Lyralei raised her own hand, and responded in kind:
."˥Ǝ∩◖ ┴ᴚ∀ƎH uᴉ ∀ ɟʃǝs ʎɯ ʇǝ𐐒 I ᴉ"
The words hung in the air between them, glowing faintly gold visible only to them, then shattered—the fragments absorbed into both of them.
The contract was sealed.
The Conditions of the Heart Duel:
Score higher than opponent in the Class Selection Hunt Defeat opponent in single combat afterward
Prize: Soul Weapon (Dragon's Bracelet) OR Lyralei Valen herself
Control Chamber
Professor Whisper's eyes narrowed beneath the hood.
"They're talking about something," the vampire murmured. "Loren, is there a way to make it audible?"
Loren tapped several crystals, frowning.
"I... can't?" He rubbed his ears, looking genuinely confused. "There's a blind spot? Audio's completely dead in that section. I can't believe it—that shouldn't be possible with our array."
Professor Marcus nodded slowly.
"I hope," he said carefully, "this isn't something that shouldn't have been done."
Professor Gareth whistled, drawing their attention back to the scoreboard.
"Hero isn't lacking either, it seems!"
Vincent read off the current standings:
"Student Draekon: 201 points"
"Student Lyralei: 140 points"
"Student Cassius: 102 points"
Professor Sylvia clapped her hands softly, smiling.
"It seems all the top students are enjoying this competition!"
Professor Helena sighed.
"A few are enjoying it too much," she muttered.
Then she gestured to a different crystal—Zone 3.
Zone 3: Frostwind Tundra
Agni was lying on his back in the snow.
His arms were spread out. His clothes were covered in frost. His lips were blue.
He was visibly frozen solid.
Serina Frostwind approached cautiously, looking concerned.
Helena sighed, reading the scores.
"Student Agni: 0 points"
"Student Serina: 54 points"
She shook her head.
"Student Agni appears to have no intention of participating in the competition."
A junior monitoring assistant spoke up nervously.
"Should we... retrieve him?"
The professors exchanged glances.
Mixed reactions.
Some concerned. Some amused. Some exasperated.
Marcus finally shook his head.
"Not yet. He's not in danger. Just... extremely unmotivated."
"Let's see if he surprises us," Gareth said with a grin.
Helena snorted. "I wouldn't hold your breath."