Forest of Obscurity
Namer University
Academia City, Namer Island
8th September 385 Post Global Unification
1:37 PM
Eren watched through the bus window as the road narrowed and the vehicle veered into a forest instead of heading straight for the university. The shift didn't go unnoticed. Whispers rippled through the bus as the trees closed in around them. The bus finally came to a stop at a clearing deep within the forest, where a raised platform had been constructed. The murmurs grew louder when the students saw that they weren't alone—other first-years were already gathered there, waiting. The noise continued to swell until the aide who had escorted them from the train station clapped his hands sharply, snapping the bus into silence.
"Alright, everyone. This is where we get off," the aide announced.
He was a short, broad-shouldered dwarf dressed in a black tunic emblazoned with the Namer University crest. Eren and Ash stepped off the bus along with the others, joining the cluster of students assembled near the platform. As he scanned the crowd, Eren caught several judgmental glances from students with refined postures and expensive attire—Nobleborns, without a doubt.
Standing atop the platform was a Lightfolk with yellow skin and amber eyes. He wore a black tunic and trousers beneath a flowing black cloak. Though he appeared to be in his mid-thirties, Eren knew better—he was at least two centuries old. His cultivation rank was impossible to gauge, which meant it was far beyond the students' perception.
This was Instructor Wingram. The professor observed the gathered students with a practiced eye, quietly noting the fluctuations of their cultivation auras. He had already marked the obvious talents—those who had stood out during the practical examinations.
When the latest group from the bus merged with the rest, Wingram's gaze paused on Ash. He studied the way world energy flowed around him. Though Ash's cultivation rank was low, his spiritual power was unusually dense—far above the average for someone at that level. There were others like him among the crowd, most of them aristocrats. Once all the students had assembled, Instructor Wingram cleared his throat. Silence fell instantly.
"Good afternoon, students," Professor Wingram said. "I am Professor Edun Wingram. It is my honor to welcome you, the fortunate few, to the prestigious Academy of Namer University."
Smiles spread across many faces, though confusion lingered beneath the excitement. More than a few students glanced around, clearly wondering why they were standing in the middle of a forest instead of on the academy grounds.
"Now," Wingram continued, "you are likely wondering why we have brought you here—to the Forest of Obscurity, a place known for its enigma and mystery…"
Eren certainly was. A knot tightened in his stomach. Whatever this was, it didn't feel like a warm welcome.
"…You are here," Wingram finished, "to begin the evaluation that will determine the first-year Student Rankings."
Student rankings? Eren's expression darkened. How in the gods' names are they planning to evaluate us here? Damn it. I'm so sick of tests.
His mood soured rapidly. He was exhausted from the train and bus ride, hungry enough for his stomach to growl audibly, and running low on patience. He muttered a few choice curses about the instructor in his head, bracing himself for whatever fresh nightmare Namer University had decided to throw at them first.
"…To establish the first-year rankings," Professor Wingram continued, "we will begin by evaluating your cultivation strength—including your cultivation path and any Ability Factor you have awakened. We will also assess your elemental affinities."
He snapped his fingers. A white crystal orb materialized before him, suspended in midair. Inside it, an orange mist of Anima churned slowly, as if alive.
"This is a Soul Scanner," Wingram said. "An enchanted artifact capable of analyzing the soul data of an individual. With it, we will identify the best among you—those with the potential to reach the pinnacle of cultivation."
His gaze swept across the assembled students, already cataloging faces and auras. Predictably, it lingered on the aristocrats. Nobleborns were born with greater talent and showered with resources from the moment they could walk—especially those from the Great Cultivation Families. Compared to them, even lesser nobility and common-born students were often leagues behind.
"I will call names in alphabetical order," Wingram said. "When called, step onto the platform and place your hand on the orb. The artifact will handle the rest."
He paused, surveying the nervous, eager faces before him.
"…Very well. First on the list—Asher Asterion. Please come forward."
A wave of murmurs swept through the crowd.
An Asterion.
Even the Nobleborns stirred, curiosity flickering across their faces. The infamy of that clan was known to everyone. Ash stepped forward, unfazed by the stares drilling into his back. As he approached the platform, his path was suddenly blocked.
A bulky first-year stood in front of him—tall and powerfully built, with shaggy orange hair and sharp yellow-green eyes that resembled a predator's. The way he looked at Ash made Eren feel as if the boy were sizing up prey. Ash met the glare without hesitation and didn't take a single step back. After a tense moment, the boy grunted and stepped aside. Ash continued without a word.
"What's with that brat?" Eren muttered.
"That's Victor Jaeger," someone beside him said. "From the Jaeger family—one of the Six Great Magicborn Families."
Eren turned in surprise at the familiar voice.
It was the adventurous girl from the clinic at the exam hospital. She wore the same bobbed hairstyle, and unlike many of the other girls in uniform skirts, she wore pants like the boys. He remembered her complaining about a breakup—or something close to it.
"It's you," Eren said. "From the clinic."
"I'm glad you remember me, Eren Walker," Annabelle Satou said. "I'm Annabelle."
Eren nodded, unfazed by the fact that she'd omitted her family name. It was obvious enough—she carried herself like a Nobleborn. Though he did wonder how she knew his name.
"So that brat's one of them," Eren muttered. His mind involuntarily drifted to a certain silver-haired girl with striking red eyes—someone who never failed to irritate him.
"I take it you're familiar with the Great Families," Belle said lightly, clearly referring to Reyna Greyron—the princess who had visited Eren while he was bedridden.
"Don't remind me," Eren replied. He turned his attention back to the platform, where Ash had already stepped forward and placed his hands on the crystal orb.
The moment contact was made, Ash felt an invasive presence push into his soul sea. The soul sea was a metaphysical inner space—an embodiment of one's mind and soul, where consciousness and unconsciousness intertwined, and where the essence of one's being resided. The mist from the orb seeped into this space, brushing against Ash's soul before spreading deeper, searching for his core.
Rather than resist, Ash allowed it. The orb extracted his data. Above the platform, a white projection flared into existence, etched with black runes. One by one, the runes reshaped themselves into the Common Tongue so all could read:
Name: Asher Asterion
Cultivation Realm: Acolyte (1st Tier)
Cultivation Type: Magic Cultivation (Caster)
Cultivation Talent: Supreme
Ability Factor: Boundless
Ability Factor Type: Lineage Factor
Ability Factor Rank: S-Rank
Elemental Affinity:
Fire, Water, Wind, Earth, Light, Darkness,
The clearing fell deathly silent. Professor Wingram couldn't hide his surprise as he reviewed the Asterion boy's results. He knew well how powerful the Asterion clan had once been—before the Purple Massacre, the calamity that had nearly erased them from existence. To think that a child who had survived that slaughter could possess such overwhelming talent…Whispers rippled through the gathered students, growing louder by the second. Even Annabelle let out a low whistle, her reaction mirroring the rest of the crowd.
"What's with everyone?" Eren asked, glancing around.
"That Asterion boy is exceptional," Belle said. "He might be the most talented first-year here."
"Is that so?" Eren replied flatly. He'd heard praise like that before—since preschool, even. It did little to stir him now, and he found himself far less impressed than the others surrounding Ash.
"You don't seem very amazed," Belle noted.
"I am," Eren said, though his tone didn't change.
"Long before the rise of the Great Families or even the noble houses," Belle continued, "the Asterions once ruled the world. You've heard of the Ashtar race, right?"
"The Primevals," Eren answered. "The ones who lived here before humans and the other races."
He remembered bits and pieces from the stories Mother Ruth used to tell them when he was younger. He might have known more if he'd paid attention in school—but back then, fighting was what occupied his mind.
"The Asterions are descended from the Ashtar," Belle said. "They're the last remnants of the Aset Dynasty that ruled the Central Continent before the First Great World War."
Eren barely reacted. History—especially events from millions of years ago—never held much appeal for him. Even his own past wasn't something he dwelled on. His birthday was only weeks away, the day Mother Ruth had once promised to tell him the truth about his parents—whether they'd abandoned him or died. He didn't care anymore. The past was behind him. All that mattered now was the present… and the future.
And Ash.
Ash stepped down from the platform and returned to his place beside Eren, with Belle standing on Eren's other side. Eyes followed the trio, curiosity and intimidation written plainly across many faces. Eren shot a glare at a few students who quickly looked away. Professor Wingram stepped forward and clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention back to the platform.
"Looks like we already have our first contender for the top spot," Professor Wingram said. "And right from the beginning. I can only hope the rest of you won't disappoint."
Unfortunately for him, many did. Those called after Ash were mostly common-born students with average results for the Intermediate realm. A few stood out as competent, but the majority fell squarely within expected norms. Several nobles produced impressive readings—but when compared to Ash, their results felt underwhelming.
"And next," Wingram announced, a spark of interest in his voice, "we have Nox Havoc."
A yellow-skinned boy with pointed ears stepped forward. Like Wingram, Nox was Lightfolk—a race once revered as the Children of Light. The Havoc family was one of the Great Families of the Lightfolk, just as the Greyron family held that status among humans. Nox mounted the platform and placed his hands on the orb. The projection flared to life.
Name: Nox Havoc
Cultivation Realm: Initiate (Tenth Tier)
Cultivation Type: Body Cultivation (Magic Warrior)
Cultivation Talent: Mythical
Ability Factor: Hyperion
Ability Factor Type: Lineage Factor
Ability Factor Rank: S-Rank
Elemental Affinity:
Fire, Light,
A wave of whispers swept through the clearing, quickly rising into applause. Excitement buzzed in the air as students marveled at yet another prodigy from a Great Family.
Eren looked around, baffled.
What's the big deal?
Ash, who knew Eren better than anyone, recognized the look immediately. It wasn't arrogance—just ignorance. Eren simply didn't yet understand how rare such results truly were. Even so, Ash's expression tightened. The Havoc boy was a genuine threat. Being from a Great Family meant resources, lineage, and training far beyond what most could hope to match—and Nox Havoc clearly lived up to the name.
"What does cultivation talent even have to do with anything?" Eren whispered to Ash. Belle, standing beside him, caught the question easily. Her mixed heritage granted her sharper senses than most, and instead of mocking him for not knowing something so basic, she cleared her throat, drawing both boys' attention.
"Cultivation talent refers to the quality of a cultivator's physique," Belle explained. "It measures how naturally gifted someone is at cultivation." She continued smoothly. "The physique encompasses body constitution, genetic data, and latent potential. It directly affects the rank and type of Ability Factor one can awaken—and how far they can ultimately cultivate. The higher the talent grade, the stronger and more adaptable the physique."
"There are nine talent grades," she added. "Common, Uncommon, Rare, Epic, Sacred, Legendary, Mythical, Supreme, and Divine."
"So Ash's talent—and physique—are better than his," Eren said with a smug grin, clearly pleased.
"Yes," Ash replied, "but don't focus only on that. Great Families are known not just for talent, but for the sheer amount of resources they pour into cultivating their geniuses."
"He's right," Belle agreed. "I wouldn't underestimate Nox Havoc. The Havoc family has invested heavily in him."
After Nox, several other Nobleborns were called. Most displayed cultivation realms in the mid tiers of Initiates—far above the Commonborns, who consistently lingered near the lower tiers.
"Next up," Wingram announced, "Victor Jaeger."
The bulky, orange-haired boy who had earlier blocked Ash's path climbed the steps to the platform. Victor shot an irritated glance in Nox's direction, clearly displeased that another Great Family heir had outshone him. As a Jaeger, failure was unacceptable. Already, two students ranked above him. Victor slammed his fist onto the orb. The scanner flared to life.
Name: Victor Jaeger
Cultivation Realm: Initiate (Ninth Tier)
Cultivation Type: Body Cultivation (Magic Warrior)
Cultivation Talent: Mythical
Ability Factor: Beast Transformation
Ability Factor Type: Lineage Factor
Ability Factor Rank: S-Rank
Elemental Affinity:
Wind, Earth, Water
The crowd stirred once more—but Victor's expression remained hard.
Second place was no longer enough.
This time, Eren couldn't help but look at the orange-haired Nobleborn differently. Seeing Victor Jaeger's results forced him to confront an uncomfortable thought—what would his own stats look like? Eren had always known there would be strong rivals among his classmates, but witnessing the gap so clearly stirred something heavy in his chest. After Victor, more students stepped onto the platform. As before, none came close to matching his results—until the next Commonborn was called.
Eren noticed her immediately. The girl who approached the podium carried herself with a calm, grounded confidence. She ignored the sneers and quiet laughter from the aristocrats, her long auburn hair braided in the Southern Continent style. Like Belle, she wore black pants instead of a skirt beneath her uniform jacket. She was tall, her honey-brown skin smooth and unblemished, and the way she moved spoke of discipline and combat experience. Eren could tell instantly—she was a warrior. When she placed her hands on the orb, Eren prepared himself not to be impressed.
The projection appeared.
Name: Rhea Mogarin
Cultivation Realm: Initiate (Ninth Tier)
Cultivation Type: Body Cultivation (Magic Warrior)
Cultivation Talent: Epic
Ability Factor: Ring Bomb
Ability Factor Type: Unique Factor
Ability Factor Rank: B-Rank
Elemental Affinity: Fire
"That's impressive for a Commonborn," Belle said as Rhea returned to the crowd.
Some students shot Rhea dirty looks—looks Eren didn't like. As Rhea joined a small group of three, Eren's attention shifted to the boy standing at the center. He seemed to be the anchor of the group, the unspoken leader. The others around him were Commonborn as well, yet their cultivation auras rivaled those of several Nobleborns. Eren didn't know their names—but he remembered their strength. The boy in the middle hadn't been called yet, but Eren didn't need a Soul Scanner to know he was dangerous.
"Ah," Belle said softly, catching Eren's stare. "So you've finally noticed him. That's the other genius of this year's intake."
"You know him?" Eren asked. Ash narrowed his eyes, focusing on the boy Belle indicated. A flicker of surprise crossed his face. Even without scanning, Ash could sense it—the faint, unmistakable resonance of Ashtar blood.
Mixed-blood, Ash realized. Though the boy wasn't from Ash's clan, the familiarity lingered, subtle but undeniable. After Rhea, several more students were called—competent, respectable—but then Wingram spoke again.
"Reo Rykkel."
Wingram had to admit it: this year's intake was exceptional. Asher Asterion still stood at the top, but as Reo stepped forward, Wingram already understood something unsettling. There were two heaven-blessed students among the first years. This year would be interesting. Reo took a single step—
—and vanished.
Gasps rippled through the clearing as he reappeared instantly on the platform before the orb. The movement was so clean, so sudden, that most students hadn't even registered how he got there. Even Eren felt a jolt run through him. He'd barely caught it.
Eren was familiar with movement techniques—Aura acceleration, body reinforcement, spell-assisted bursts. His reactive senses usually allowed him to track even high-speed combatants. But this— This wasn't a spell. This wasn't a technique. Professor Wingram's eyes sharpened.
He simply moved, Wingram realized. So fast it looked like teleportation.
Reo placed his hands on the orb. The scanner activated. And the clearing held its breath.
Name: Reo Rykkel (Hero Candidate)
Cultivation Realm: Acolyte (Third Tier)
Cultivation Type: Magic and Body Cultivation
Cultivation Talent: Divine
Ability Factor: Snatcher
Ability Factor Type: Unique Factor
Ability Factor Rank: ???
Elemental Affinity:
Fire, Water, Wind, Earth, Light, and Darkness
"Incredible…" Professor Wingram murmured. "So he is one of the Hero Candidates chosen by the World's Will."
He possessed the capability to practice both Magic and Body cultivation, something deemed nearly impossible. The fact that the orb couldn't determine a rank for Reo's Ability Factor spoke volumes about his physique—and his potential. To think that someone like this had appeared among this year's intake…
The clearing buzzed with stunned disbelief. Another Commonborn had surpassed the heirs of the Great Families—claiming the top position outright. Reo's cultivation stood even higher than Ash's. There was no arguing it. He was the strongest first-year present. Within the crowd, Victor Jaeger bristled with barely contained rage. Neither he nor Nox had taken first place. Worse—both had been outshone by a commoner. The thought made his skin crawl. If not for the temperance beaten into him years ago by his elder brother, Victor would've already charged forward in a reckless attempt to challenge Reo. On the opposite side of the gathering, Eren's mood sank deeper with every realization. The gap between him and the top students felt wider than ever.
"Next up," Wingram announced, "Annabelle Satou."
"Well," Belle said casually, "that's me, guys."
Eren's mouth fell open.
Satou?
Only then did it click. Annabelle Satou—the daughter of Ishida Satou, founder of the Satou Industries. The very corporation responsible for the rise of modern Magitech—the refined evolution of enchanted items that had revolutionized daily life across the Global Union. As Belle passed Reo, who had already returned to his group, the two exchanged brief nods—a quiet acknowledgment of their last encounter back in the dungeon.
Belle stepped onto the platform and let out a small sigh as she placed her hands on the orb. This evaluation was taking far too long. From the very beginning, Makina—her grimoire—had already scanned every student present and catalogued their data. As far as Belle was concerned, this entire process was redundant. She could have been back in her lab. Working. Creating. Instead, she stood here, waiting for the orb to tell her what she already knew.
Name: Annabelle Satou
Cultivation Realm: Initiate (Eighth Tier)
Cultivation Type: Magic Cultivation (Caster)
Cultivation Talent: Supreme
Ability Factor: Technomorph
Ability Factor Type: Unique Factor
Ability Factor Rank: S-Rank
Elemental Affinity:
Fire, Water, Earth, Wind, Light
Belle yawned as she withdrew her hands from the orb and stepped off the platform, clearly unimpressed. Ignoring the murmurs around her, she returned to her spot beside Eren. Eren spared her a glance before turning his attention back to the podium. His heartbeat had begun to quicken. Soon enough, his turn came.
"Eren Walker is next," Professor Wingram announced.
Wingram barely looked up. By now, he was convinced the major surprises were over. The true standouts had already revealed themselves, and he was eager to move on to the next phase of the evaluation—the part he found far more interesting. As Eren approached the platform, Wingram's attention drifted, his expectations low. Eren stepped forward and placed his palm against the orb.
A knot tightened in his chest. There was always the chance this would expose him. Mother Ruth had warned him countless times about how Irregulars were viewed within cultivation society—about how institutions hunted, controlled, or erased anomalies that fell outside the World's order. After his encounter with Reyna Greyron, Eren had learned caution the hard way. The moment the orb's Anima flowed into him, he felt it.
An invasive presence. His instincts flared violently. Eren knew—with terrifying clarity—that he could force the Anima out, sever the scan entirely, and reveal nothing. His body responded to the intrusion as if it were a threat. For a split second, the urge to reject it nearly won. But he stopped himself. This was part of the evaluation. Everyone else had shown their stats. Refusing now would draw more attention than any abnormal reading ever could.
So Eren endured it.
The Anima slipped past his defenses and entered his soul sea—the metaphysical core where his essence resided. It brushed against something vast, something unstable, and began extracting his soul data.
Above the platform, the projection appeared.
Name: Eren Walker
Cultivation Realm: Initiate (Third Tier)
Cultivation Type: Body Cultivation (Magic Warrior)
Cultivation Talent: ???
Ability Factor: Dynamic Engine
Ability Factor Type: ???
Ability Factor Rank: ???
Elemental Affinity: ???
The orb flickered. And for the first time that day—
It hesitated.
Eren stared at the projection, unable to believe what he was seeing. The damn orb still hadn't been able to extract proper information from his soul—even after he'd fought down his instincts and allowed its mana to complete the scan. He could feel the weight of dozens of stares pressing into him, all of them asking the same question.
What the hell kind of stats are those?
And worse—what did the question marks even mean? The first time the orb had failed like this had been with Reo Rykkel, a Hero Candidate. That had been easy for everyone to accept. Reo's physique and potential were so overwhelming that the scanner simply couldn't quantify them. But this? So many question marks for some unknown student? That didn't sit well with anyone. Ash, however, had already formed his own conclusion.
Irregulars deviate from the standard path of cultivation, he reasoned silently. Which means the orb couldn't read or interpret Eren's soul at all.
"You may step off the platform," Professor Wingram said. Even Wingram didn't fully understand why the orb had produced so many unknowns. There were several possible explanations, but he had no intention of digging deeper. At the end of the day, Eren Walker still sat at the bottom of the Initiate realm. Many of his classmates ranked far above him. Which meant, in their eyes, he was still the weakest among the first years.
The reaction was immediate. Several aristocrats cast him familiar looks of superiority—expressions Eren had seen his entire life. Even some common-born students with higher tiers allowed themselves smug glances, relieved that there was finally someone below them. Eren ignored them all. He knew the truth. With his Ability Factor alone, he could take on most of them—and wipe the floor with them if it came to it.
As Eren walked back into the crowd, Reo Rykkel watched him closely. Unlike the others, Reo hadn't reacted with surprise or disdain. What caught his attention instead was Eren's composure. He wasn't rattled. He wasn't embarrassed. The confidence in his eyes was real. For a brief moment, respect flickered within Reo. Then—
A sudden surge of sound brushed against his senses, snapping his attention away. Something was coming. For a brief moment, Reo felt the world tilt. His internal senses—refined through years of battle and instinct—flared violently. Then he saw it.
Darkness. An abyss surged up from the ground around Eren, vast and bottomless, swallowing the space itself. The darkness twisted and condensed, taking shape as a colossal beast's skull—jagged fangs bared wide enough to devour existence itself. And then—
It was gone. The vision lasted no more than an instant. None of Reo's companions noticed the subtle shift in his expression when his gaze flicked toward Eren. None except Rhea. Standing at his side, his right hand saw the change clearly. Reo's expression had altered the moment he looked at that boy.
Did he see something? She wondered.
As a Hero Candidate, Reo possessed an affinity toward the soul—a rare and poorly understood form of spiritual perception. With it, he could perceive the contours and weight of another's soul, much like the Soul Scanner orb, but far more intimately. It allowed him to glean truths hidden beneath cultivation rank and outward strength. It was a power he used often—especially in combat. Rhea had seen it many times. Which was why the faint grin now forming at the corner of Reo's mouth unsettled her. Whatever Reo had seen within Eren Walker— It wasn't normal.
"Alright! Alright! Settle down," Professor Wingram called out as chatter rippled through the gathered first-years. He was visibly energized. This was the part he enjoyed most—the moment where raw numbers and theoretical potential gave way to reality. While Namer University was, on paper, an institution dedicated to teaching proper Anima cultivation and guiding students toward the pinnacle of magic, it also served another purpose. It trained Hunters. Not ordinary Hunters—but elites.
The next phase of evaluation would pit students against one another, stripping away reputation and pedigree to reveal who could truly apply their power under pressure. Who could rise when it mattered. This, Wingram knew, was where the aristocrats were expected to shine—especially those from the Great Magicborn Families. They'd been trained in combat since childhood, drilled relentlessly, and given the finest instruction money and influence could buy. Some commoners might have managed to afford private tutors, but most cultivated simply because cultivation was part of life. For many, it was about longevity, health, and status—not battle.
Not every cultivator was meant to fight.
"Now that we've established a baseline," Wingram said, snapping his fingers. A large white screen materialized in the air, displaying names and portraits—hundreds of first-year students. Beside each image was a numerical value. Eren's eyes immediately went to the top.
Reo Rykkel — 5000 points.
Then the bottom.
Eren Walker — 0 points.
"The final test to determine your rankings," Wingram continued, "will be a free-for-all combat evaluation. As you can see, each of you has been awarded Merit Points—a highly valuable currency here at Namer University and throughout Academia City."
Eren raised his hand. Wingram saw it. He ignored it.
"Those who place within the top five will receive one thousand merit points monthly," Wingram went on. "Those at the bottom receive none. Naturally, there are other ways to earn merit points—which you will learn during your studies—but maintaining a high ranking is the most reliable method."
Eren slowly lowered his hand. Frustration coiled tight in his chest. His fingers curled into a fist—not just anger, but something deeper. Something painfully familiar. He'd felt it his entire life as a Mundane child. That suffocating sense of being boxed in. Dismissed. Measured and found wanting before he ever had a chance to act. Even now—even after awakening his power—he was being treated the same way. Limited. Demeaned. Looked down on. It made him want to smash everything in front of him.
Public school all over again, he thought bitterly. If he didn't want to be looked down on… if he didn't want to be treated like scum… Then there was only one answer. He would show them. He would make this professor regret dismissing him. And these damn aristocrats? They would be his proof.
"With these merit points," Professor Wingram continued, "students may purchase recovery potions, enchanted items, grimoires, martial arts manuals, and various resources that aid in Anima cultivation. You may also spend merit points on additional course time if you are dissatisfied with the instruction provided during regular classes."
A murmur rippled through the students.
"Furthermore," Wingram said, "to explore the dungeon on Namer Island as a student of this university, you must possess at least one thousand merit points. Without that qualification, you may only enter as part of an officially sanctioned team."
He paused, letting that sink in.
"Now, for the final evaluation, it is quite simple. Within the Forest of Obscurity, a large-scale simulation spell has already been cast. This spell will generate Illusionary Maleficants. Each Maleficant is worth ten points upon elimination."
More murmurs—this time, sharper.
"Of course," Wingram continued calmly, "there is another way to earn points. You may defeat your fellow students and claim their points for yourself."
The tension spiked instantly.
"While engaging Maleficants and other students, you must make your way to the forest's exit. Accumulate as many points as possible before reaching it. Any student who gathers two hundred points or more from Maleficants alone—not from classmates—will receive an additional one hundred merit points."
He gestured to the students' wrists.
"You will use the spatial bands issued by the university. They contain a holographic map of the forest and will guide you to the exit."
Wingram's eyes gleamed.
"Now… let the final evaluation begin."
The moment his words ended, mist began to pour through the forest. It crept low along the ground, thickening rapidly, swallowing the clearing. Eren watched as the fog cut him off from Ash and Belle, their figures fading into nothing. Space warped subtly, and he felt the sensation of displacement.
When the mist thinned, he was alone. Eren flexed his hand, feeling his blood surge and his pulse steady. He expanded his internal senses—projecting his consciousness outward through mental force. The forest unfolded around him in layered perception. Then he felt it. The manifestation of Illusionary Maleficants. Though they weren't formed from true Accursed energy, the spellcraft behind them was impressively refined. Ever since his encounter with the Roach Maleficant, Eren had an intimate understanding of what Accursed energy felt like—and this was close enough to trigger his instincts.
Three Maleficants emerged ahead of him. Four-legged creatures composed of writhing dark tendrils, their red, glowing eyes fixed on him with the hunger of starved beasts. Eren didn't hesitate. He surged forward, anima flooding into his fist. The Aura Skin technique he'd been practicing layered his blow with reinforced force, and his punch connected with brutal precision.
The first Maleficant's head caved in instantly. It dissolved into motes of fading energy. A soft chime sounded. A notification flared to life on the spatial band around his wrist.
+10 Points
Eren smiled faintly.
Let's begin.
Eren still wasn't satisfied. He sprang upward, his body twisting midair as he snapped out a roundhouse kick. The remaining two Maleficants were decapitated in a single fluid motion, their forms dissolving into mist. Two more notifications blinked across his spatial band.
+20 Points
These simulated Maleficants were barely a warm-up. Eren moved through the forest with steady momentum, eliminating them one after another. It wasn't until he brought down the eighth that he finally sensed other students nearby.
Good, he thought. They've got points. Eren checked his holo-map, tracing routes through the forest and plotting a clean path to the exit. That was when his internal senses picked up movement—a group approaching fast. Nearly half a mile away, a pack of stronger Maleficants roamed the area.
That's what they're after, Eren realized.
It had been his target too. As he dismissed the holo-map, five students burst through the underbrush. From their auras alone, Eren could tell they ranked higher than him. They weren't aristocrats, but their equipment and posture marked them as wealthy—upper-class Commonborns, the kind who lived comfortably and trained properly.
Three boys. Two girls.
"Oh. It's just a third-tier," one of the boys scoffed. He had brown hair, freckles, and a staff resting casually in his grip—a caster. "He probably doesn't even have points."
"Figures," one of the girls added with a smirk. "Too scared to fight the Maleficants."
They moved to pass him. Eren released his internal strength. A wave of spiritual pressure slammed down, forcing all five to leap backward.
"What the hell, man?" the bulky one growled.
Eren took them in properly now. Enchanted armor layered over their uniforms. Three casters—one boy and two girls—with wands. A gauntlet-shield for the bulky fighter. And a tall, lean swordsman at the center—clearly the leader. The blond swordsman drew his blade instinctively.
That aura… Percy Osborn thought grimly. That's not a third-tier.
Percy was a fifth-tier Initiate. He should've been stronger. And yet every instinct screamed at him to back away.
"We don't want trouble," Percy said carefully. "Antagonizing us won't end well for you—"
"But I do want trouble," Eren replied calmly. "You're ladders. And I'm climbing."
He vanished. Before Percy could shout for a barrier, Eren was already among them. His leg snapped upward, catching the staff-wielding boy square in the jaw and launching him into the air. The caster hit the ground unconscious. The two girls reacted instantly, raising their wands.
One was faster.
[Piercing Icicle]
Runes snapped into alignment. Four razor-sharp spears of ice screamed toward Eren. He moved like the wind. In the blink of an eye, he was beneath the caster's guard. His heel crashed down on her neck, slamming her into the dirt. She went limp instantly. Eren's fist followed through, the shockwave alone knocking the second caster unconscious before she could finish her spell.
What kind of physical ability is that? Percy thought, stunned. As a Magic warrior, Percy reinforced his body with battle aura. Yet Eren had dismantled three casters without using any visible Anima at all. His flow was calm—almost nonexistent.
"Bruce!" Percy shouted.
The bulky fighter didn't hesitate. Anima surged into his fist as he charged and drove a punch into Eren's back. The impact detonated in a burst of force. Eren barely flinched.
That's it?
The technique reminded him of his own Dynamic Fist—but it was crude. Just raw Anima exploding on contact. No control. No refinement. Eren turned. Bruce's eyes widened.
"Impossible—"
Eren drove an uppercut into Bruce's gut, this time layering his fist with battle aura. The impact sent Bruce flying into a tree, branches snapping as his body collapsed to the forest floor unconscious. Eren's internal sense screamed. He sidestepped just as a wave of red energy tore through the space he'd occupied, slicing clean through branches.
Percy stood alone now, sword gripped in both hands, Anima roaring through his body. Sweat beaded on his brow.
I can't hold back.
Percy entered a stance and slashed. Four red discs of energy screamed forward—dense, lethal, vibrating with destructive force. Eren felt the danger instantly.
Can't let those touch me.
He activated his movement technique—Dynamic Engine flaring—his speed exploding beyond its natural limits as he vanished from their trajectory. The fight wasn't over. It had just reached the part Eren enjoyed most.
[Dynamic Shift]
Eren's natural speed surged. Velocity and acceleration spiked in an instant as he slipped between the incoming disks, weaving through their trajectories with impossible precision. Percy hissed under his breath—Eren's movement technique was far beyond anything he could replicate. Through his internal sight, Percy saw Eren's fist flash toward him at blinding speed. He jerked his head aside just in time and activated his own technique, pushing his slashes faster, sharper.
[Redhawk Flare Burst]
Percy swung his longsword.
Eren evaded. A second slash followed. Eren stepped back. A third—
Eren leaned, twisted, and slid past it. His footwork carried him backward in a fluid rhythm, quick steps keeping him just outside the blade's path. He observed Percy's timing, predicted each strike, and moved before the intent could fully form. To an onlooker, it looked effortless. But it wasn't just evasion. Eren subtly guided the exchanges, controlling the angles, forcing Percy off balance with every miss. When the opening came, he seized it.
Eren clamped onto Percy's sword hand. Using Percy's own momentum—and adding his own—Eren drove his fist forward.
[Dynamic Fist]
Anima crackled violently, static electricity spiraling around his strike. The controlled discharge smashed Percy into a tree with a thunderous crack. Bark exploded outward as Percy collapsed unconscious, Eren having carefully restrained the technique's full destructive force.
"Now give me your points," Eren said calmly. He pressed his spatial band against Percy's. The transfer completed instantly.
+580 Points
"Five hundred and eighty… nice."
Combined with his earlier eighty, his total climbed to six hundred and sixty. He didn't stop there. Eren moved quickly, collecting the remaining students' merit points. When he finished, his total stood at 2,980 points. Still not enough. Eren lifted his gaze, internal sight locking onto the cluster of stronger simulated Maleficants deeper in the forest. His pulse steadied. He wasn't done yet.