The escort stopped in front of a plain metal door.
"Right in here."
"Alright."
He opened it and ushered me inside.
I'd expected something dramatic.
Instead, I got a locker room.
Rows of metal lockers lined the walls, wooden benches divided the room, and a dark uniform sat neatly folded on the one directly ahead of me. Everything looked painfully ordinary.
Everything except the enormous opening carved into the far-right wall.
Calling it a doorway would've been generous.
A wide stone tunnel descended beyond it, large enough for several people to walk through shoulder to shoulder before disappearing into darkness.
I glanced back at my guide.
"What do I—"
"Put that on, then walk straight through the tunnel."
He was already backing toward the door.
"That's it?"
"That's it. Good luck."
"Wait, what exactly am I—"
SLAM.
The door shut in my face.
I blinked.
"...Friendly."
"What's his problem?"
Sleazy's voice came from behind me.
I turned to find him halfway merged into a locker, his upper body sticking through the metal like he'd decided doors were beneath him.
"I have no idea. Maybe he hates his job."
"Focus, young man."
Knight appeared beside the bench, his attention fixed on the tunnel. Both hands rested over the pommel of his sword.
"This assessment is not something you should underestimate."
I picked up the dark uniform.
Unlike my usual academy clothes, there wasn't a decorative thread on it. The fabric was thick, the seams reinforced, the boots heavy enough to survive being dragged across stone.
Combat clothing.
Comforting.
In a deeply concerning way.
"The assessment determines more than admission," Knight continued. "Your performance contributes to your cohort placement."
I paused halfway through removing my academy jacket.
"So Vanguard."
"If you merely reach the end, you can qualify for Combat."
His expression hardened.
"If you wish to enter Vanguard, merely surviving will not be enough."
Of course not.
Why would anything ever be easy?
"What am I actually walking into?"
"One of two trials, assuming the examination remains similar to the one I remember."
I stepped into the black trousers.
"Battle or Endurance."
"Difference?"
"Endurance is precisely what it sounds like. The candidate faces increasingly difficult obstacles until they either reach the end or can no longer continue. Terrain, mana pressure, creatures—occasionally all three."
I fastened the trousers with a grimace.
"Sounds horrible."
"It was."
I looked at him.
Knight gave me a solemn nod.
"That was my assessment."
"How far did you make it?"
"I reached the end."
Of course he did.
Bloody materialized beside me.
"Battle is worse."
There was entirely too much excitement in his voice.
I pulled the dark shirt over my head.
"Let me guess. You got Battle."
His grin widened.
"Naturally."
"Of course."
"You'll pass with Bloodrend."
"Really now?"
"If you stop fighting like a frightened child."
"I killed a griffin yesterday."
"And poorly."
"It died!"
"So did your dignity."
"Enough," Knight snapped.
Bloody clicked his tongue.
Knight turned back to me.
"The Trial of Battle usually places the candidate against a creature above their own tier."
My hands stopped.
"...Above?"
"Yes."
"How far above?"
"That depends."
"On what?"
"The examiners."
I stared at him.
"That's not reassuring."
"It wasn't intended to be."
Wonderful.
I finished pulling on the boots and stretched.
The uniform fit almost perfectly. Nothing tugged when I rotated my shoulders or restricted my legs when I crouched.
Whoever designed it clearly expected the wearer to get thrown around.
Yet another excellent sign.
I looked toward the tunnel.
"Let's find out which horrible option I got."
Bloody smiled.
"I hope it's Battle."
"I hope you disappear."
"Neither seems likely."
I stepped inside.
The temperature dropped almost immediately.
Polished academy flooring gave way to rough stone beneath my boots, and mana lamps embedded along the walls flickered awake as I passed.
Click.
Click.
Click.
The passage descended steadily.
Farther than I expected.
"How deep does this go?"
"Deep enough," Knight said.
"I hate answers like that."
The deeper I went, the quieter Valthrune became. Eventually, even the faint sounds of the academy disappeared behind me.
Then something rumbled ahead.
I stopped.
"What was that?"
Nobody answered.
The sound came again.
Lower this time.
Closer.
Definitely alive.
Bloody's smile became unbearable.
"Oh."
"No."
"Oh, yes."
"I swear to God, if you somehow manifested bad luck by being excited—"
Light appeared ahead.
The tunnel ended.
I stepped through—
and stopped.
"Holy shit."
The locker room had apparently been lying to me.
An enormous underground arena stretched beneath the academy, its circular battlefield large enough to swallow my old Studies lecture hall several times over. Gouges scarred the stone floor and walls—claw marks, burns, fractures deep enough that some had clearly been repaired more than once.
Whatever happened down here was rarely gentle.
A viewing platform overlooked the arena from several stories above, protected behind a translucent barrier.
Professors stood behind it.
Some carried clipboards.
Others simply watched.
And directly in the center—
Tias.
Not a trace remained of the white-haired creature who had knelt before me last night.
My stomach tightened.
She barely reacted to my arrival.
Good.
Exactly what I'd ordered.
Still...
Watching her stand above me as though nothing had happened was deeply unsettling.
One professor leaned forward.
"Candidate confirmed."
Another checked a sheet.
"Kamrik. Former Studies Department. Newly awakened combat-oriented Origin Spell."
My throat went dry.
Stone ground behind me.
I turned.
"Wait—"
BOOM.
The entrance sealed.
I was alone.
Well.
Alone except for four dead versions of myself.
And whatever was making that noise.
Tias stepped toward the edge of the platform.
"Candidate Kamrik."
Nothing obedient entered her voice.
Only the familiar authority of Valthrune's Combat Grand Professor.
"Your entrance assessment will now begin."
Something scraped against stone behind the opposite wall.
Slowly.
Violently.
Bloody started laughing.
I closed my eyes.
"Battle."
Knight sighed.
"It would appear so."
The opposite wall began to rise.
Something wet shifted in the darkness beyond it.
I stared.
"...I should've eaten breakfast."
When the wall reached its full height, horror crawled down my spine.
What stood beyond it wasn't a creature.
It was flesh.
Pale meat, muscle, and skin had been molded into the rough shape of something four-legged—almost a bear, if someone had tried constructing one from butcher scraps and blasphemy.
It towered several stories above me.
Its swollen body shifted unevenly, lumps rolling beneath the surface as though the flesh still hadn't settled into its final shape. Where its face should have held eyes and a nose, there was only rolling meat.
Yet somehow, it still had teeth.
Jagged rows pushed through a split in the flesh where someone had apparently decided a mouth belonged. Bone-white claws protruded from its forelegs, half-covered by twitching muscle.
I stepped back.
"What the hell is that...?"
"Tsk." Sleazy appeared beside me. "Flesh beast. She really isn't holding back."
Of course she wasn't.
Why would the woman who turned people into furniture show restraint now?
A magically amplified voice rang down from the platform.
"This is the Trial of Battle, Student Kamrik."
A tall, slender professor stepped forward. Golden hair shimmered down her back as she adjusted her glasses and regarded me with clinical indifference.
Great.
A pretty executioner.
"We have considered your unique circumstances and determined this to be an appropriate measure of your abilities."
I pointed at the mountain of flesh.
"That is appropriate?"
She ignored me beautifully.
"Ordinarily, a newly awakened student would not face a creature of this level. However, given Bloodrend's documented regenerative and blood-absorption properties, along with your victory against a tier-three beast, the faculty believes this challenge falls within acceptable limits."
My eye twitched.
Acceptable was doing an impressive amount of work there.
"We wish you success, Student Kamrik."
She stepped back.
That was it.
No advice.
No countdown.
Just me and something that looked like it had crawled directly out of Tias's imagination.
Wonderful.
A wet rumble rolled through the creature as its entire body trembled.
Bloodrend stirred beneath my skin.
Hungry.
Eager.
Its song scratched softly against the edge of my thoughts.
Feed.
Knight's expression changed.
"Young man, move!"
The beast lunged.
I threw myself aside as its claws smashed into the floor.
BOOM.
"Shit!"
I ran.
Yes, I ran.
Survival occasionally required tactical cowardice.
The beast thundered after me, moving far faster than anything that large had a right to. Loose flesh slapped against itself with every stride.
A claw struck where I'd been a heartbeat earlier.
Stone fragments tore across my shoulder.
"Ah—fuck!"
"Calm down," Lazy said.
"What do you mean, calm down?! It's trying to turn me into paste!"
"You can beat it."
"Based on what evidence?!"
"You're still alive."
"That is not convincing!"
Another swipe forced me into a roll.
"Do not panic!" Knight shouted.
"That would've been useful advice before the meat avalanche!"
I sprinted toward the arena wall.
The beast followed.
Closer.
Closer.
Good.
A grin crept across my face.
These bastards really thought I was a chump.
"Watch this."
At the last possible moment, I cut hard to the left.
The flesh beast couldn't.
BOOM.
It slammed into the wall hard enough to shake the arena.
"Now!"
Thought Acceleration.
The world didn't slow.
My thoughts accelerated.
Suddenly, the creature's position became readable—the twisted shoulder, the foreleg braced too far outward, the exposed joint beneath the mass of flesh.
An opening.
Bloodrend formed in my hand.
Dark-red flesh stretched into a cleaver, black veins pulsing beneath its surface.
The blade trembled eagerly.
I swung.
SHNK.
Bloodrend tore through the exposed shoulder.
The entire foreleg dropped and struck the floor hard enough to crack stone.
The creature convulsed.
"GRRROOOOOOWWWWW!"
I stumbled back.
I'd actually—
Schlk.
I froze.
The severed limb twitched.
"No."
Red strands spilled from the shoulder stump and stretched toward the discarded arm.
"No, no, don't you fucking—"
The limb jerked across the floor.
Muscle connected first.
Tendons tightened.
Bone slid back into place with a sickening crunch before flesh crawled across the wound and sealed it shut.
Within seconds, the creature stood whole again.
I stared.
"...Oh, shit."
Before Knight could warn me, the newly restored arm swung.
THOOM.
The paw caught me directly in the chest.
For a moment, I was weightless.
Then the floor found me.
I bounced twice before rolling hard enough for my shoulder to fold beneath me.
"Uggghhh..."
Pain detonated through my ribs.
"Kamrik!"
"Young man!"
Knight and Sleazy shouted over one another.
Bloody was laughing.
Of course he was.
I coughed.
Something cracked inside my chest.
"You..."
I wheezed.
"...are such an asshole."
Bloody grinned.
"Get up, maggot."
The floor trembled beneath me.
Right.
Still fighting the giant pile of homicidal meat.
I forced myself onto one knee.
Bloodrend reacted immediately.
Heat flooded my chest.
Broken bone shifted against broken bone, grinding into place before snapping back together.
I nearly screamed.
A moment later, the pain receded beneath a wave of warmth.
Then came the pleasure.
Soft.
Horrible.
Rewarding.
My heartbeat steadied. My breathing loosened.
And beneath all of it—
the song.
More.
I clenched my teeth.
"Not now."
The beast charged.
I scrambled aside as its claws carved through the stone where I'd been lying.
I ran again.
A swipe passed inches behind me. Another shattered the floor beside my foot.
"Stop running without thinking!" Lazy shouted.
"What would you prefer?!"
I ducked another attack.
"For me to get pulverized thoughtfully?!"
"You cannot keep relying on regeneration!"
That shut me up.
Because he was right.
Bloodrend could repair fractures, close wounds, and keep me moving through injuries that would've ended someone else.
But regeneration wasn't immortality.
The beast regenerated too.
And unlike me, it only needed one clean hit to tear me in half.
Healing wouldn't do much if my torso landed on opposite sides of the arena.
I couldn't win through attrition.
I needed to kill it.
The creature lunged again.
I slipped beneath one arm.
Its chest rolled above me.
Skin.
Muscle.
Fat.
Veins.
Bloodrend pulsed.
Hungry.
I slowed.
The thing was practically nothing else.
One gigantic blood bag.
"Oh."
Lazy glanced over.
"What?"
I smiled at the monster.
"Oh, you poor bastard."
Bloodrend formed in my hand.
The beast charged.
Knight's eyes widened.
"Young man—"
"Trust me!"
Bloody laughed.
"Terrible advice."
I waited.
Closer.
Closer.
The malformed head lowered.
I drew my arm back.
And threw.
Bloodrend spun through the air.
Once.
Twice.
SHNK.
The cleaver buried itself deep into the side of the creature's neck.
It stumbled.
Then Bloodrend drank.
The beast convulsed so violently its limbs nearly gave out.
"GRRRAAAAAAAAAAA!"
Blood surged beneath its skin.
I could see it moving—thick red currents racing through vessels toward the weapon buried in its neck.
The flesh surrounding Bloodrend collapsed first.
Then the shoulders.
The chest.
The creature began to shrink.
Not neatly.
Its frame compressed while the outer layers failed to follow. Skin and pale tissue sagged into heavy folds, while yellow-white rolls of lard slumped over one another as the mass beneath them diminished.
Within seconds, the towering monster had become something smaller.
Still enormous.
Still taller than me.
But no longer a moving mountain.
And somehow, it looked worse.
Loose skin and quivering fat buried its diminished frame, slabs of lard dragging against the stone whenever it moved.
A living mold of flesh whose insides had suddenly become too small for its body.
"Holy shit."
The beast staggered.
Then violently jerked its neck.
Bloodrend tore free.
The cleaver spun across the arena and struck the floor several meters away.
"Get it!" Lazy shouted.
I was already moving.
The creature followed.
Slower now, but apparently still angry enough to kill me.
A claw swept low.
I ducked.
Another caught my heel and sent me tumbling.
I rolled, pushed myself upright, and lunged.
My hand closed around Bloodrend.
And I froze.
The weapon throbbed.
Once.
My entire arm jerked.
Again.
Power surged through me so violently that my breath caught.
Bloodrend had never felt like this.
Not against the griffin.
Not ever.
It felt full.
Overfull.
The black veins across the blade bulged beneath my fingers, swollen with stolen blood and mana.
Its heartbeat matched mine.
Then overtook it.
Thump.
Thump.
My wounds burned.
The pain in my ribs vanished. My shoulder tightened. Exhaustion drained from my muscles as strength flooded in to replace it.
And then came the pleasure.
I sucked in a breath.
God.
My vision blurred.
The song crashed into me.
Not a whisper anymore.
Not something scratching at the edges of my thoughts.
A choir screaming directly into my skull.
Blood.
My fingers tightened around the handle.
More.
The flesh beast staggered toward me.
Take it.
The arena sharpened.
Every vein beneath the creature's sagging skin seemed to glow.
I could hear its heartbeat.
Or Bloodrend could.
Either way—
I wanted it.
"Kamrik."
Knight sounded impossibly far away.
The beast raised a claw.
I smiled.
Then charged.
Knight's face fell.
"No!"
Bloody erupted into laughter.
"YES!"
I slipped beneath the first swipe and carved Bloodrend through the creature's foreleg.
Blood sprayed.
Pleasure slammed through me.
I laughed.
"Again!"
"Kamrik, disengage!"
Why?
The beast swung.
I raised Bloodrend.
The impact cracked my wrist.
Bloodrend repaired it almost immediately.
Another rush.
Another surge.
My smile widened.
"Blood Slash!"
A dark-red crescent tore from the blade and carved across the monster's chest.
Fat and flesh burst apart.
Blood followed.
Bloodrend sang louder.
Again.
"Blood Slash!"
Another arc ripped through its shoulder.
The beast roared.
I roared back.
Sleazy shouted my name.
Lazy told me to stop.
Knight was practically screaming.
Bloody was the only one cheering.
I didn't care.
The monster caught me across the side.
I flew, struck the floor, and rolled.
Bloodrend repaired the damage before I'd even finished standing.
I laughed again.
This was easy.
Why had I been running?
Why had I been afraid?
All I had to do was keep cutting.
Keep feeding.
Keep—
A hand passed through my face.
Knight.
"KAMRIK!"
I blinked.
The flesh beast loomed directly above me.
"Oh."
Its claw came down.
I threw myself sideways.
BOOM.
Stone exploded.
The shockwave sent me rolling.
This time, I stayed down.
The song screamed.
Get up.
My fingers tightened around Bloodrend.
Kill.
More.
"No."
The weapon pulsed.
MORE.
"Shut up."
I squeezed my eyes closed.
Slowly, my own breathing became louder than the song.
Knight.
Lazy.
Sleazy.
The arena.
The monster.
Me.
I opened my eyes.
The beast was covered in wounds.
None of them mattered.
They were already knitting shut beneath folds of loose flesh.
I'd attacked again and again—
and achieved nothing.
"Fuck."
Knight appeared beside me.
His expression was furious.
"Power without thought is not combat."
"I know."
"You clearly did not."
"I know!"
I stared at Bloodrend.
Then at the beast.
It had almost gotten me killed.
No.
That wasn't fair.
I had almost gotten me killed.
Bloodrend had simply made stupidity feel incredible.
I pushed myself upright.
"No more."
Bloody frowned.
"You're becoming boring."
"Good."
This time, I retreated with my eyes on the monster.
Its loose skin and lard swayed around its diminished frame. The original bear-like shape was barely recognizable anymore.
Almost like—
"Wait."
Lazy vanished.
A moment later he reappeared beside the creature, studying its back.
"Kamrik."
"What?"
"The stitching."
I frowned.
"What stitching?"
"Along the spine."
I looked.
Past the hanging flesh.
Past the fat.
Then I saw it.
Black thread.
A thick seam ran down the creature's back, crossed the hip, and disappeared into the middle of its rear thigh.
Too straight.
Too deliberate.
The monster twisted toward me.
Its flesh shifted.
And the entire body strained against that single line.
My eyes narrowed.
"Structural?"
"Looks like it."
The creature hadn't grown into this shape.
It had been assembled.
Masses of flesh sewn together and forced to behave like one organism.
One construct.
One central seam.
I looked up.
Tias stood behind the barrier.
Still.
Professional.
She gave nothing away.
But she was the Combat Grand Professor.
She knew Bloodrend.
She had watched what it could do.
And today I just happened to receive an opponent made almost entirely from flesh and blood—
with one structural weakness running across its back.
Sleazy followed my gaze.
"...Maternal figure."
I almost laughed.
"That sneaky woman."
Knight frowned.
"Do not mistake assistance for victory."
"I know."
Tias hadn't made the monster weak.
My ribs could testify to that.
She'd simply made sure there was a path for me to kill it.
An opportunity.
Nothing more.
Lazy pointed toward the seam.
"If I'm correct, severing it should destabilize the construct."
"Should?"
"Would you prefer a lie?"
"No."
"Then should."
"Fantastic."
The beast charged.
Bloodrend pulsed in my hand.
The song remained loud enough to tempt me.
But this time, I didn't follow it.
One cut.
No brawl.
"Thought Acceleration."
My thoughts accelerated.
The creature became readable again.
Its claw descended.
I stepped inside the attack and ran beneath its arm, keeping pace along its side as the monster twisted to follow me.
The seam tightened.
There.
I planted one foot against a hanging slab of flesh.
And pushed.
Too hard.
Bloodrend's stolen strength exploded through my leg.
I launched upward.
Much higher than expected.
"Oh, shit!"
Bloody laughed.
"USE IT!"
The arena dropped away beneath me.
For one terrifying moment, I was above the creature.
And directly below—
the seam.
I twisted in the air.
Bloodrend's song swelled.
This time, I didn't surrender to it.
I used it.
Dark-red mana flooded the blade.
"Blood Slash."
I fell.
The cleaver struck the upper seam.
SHNK.
Gravity carried me down the creature's back as I dragged Bloodrend through the stitching.
Across the spine.
Over the hip.
Toward the rear thigh.
SHRRRRRKKK.
Black thread snapped beneath the blade.
Dozens.
Hundreds.
The beast froze.
I cleared its rear leg and crashed onto the ground behind it, catching myself on one knee with Bloodrend buried against the stone.
Silence.
I panted.
"...Please work."
Something tore behind me.
I turned.
The seam opened.
The creature's back split apart.
Without the stitching, the body couldn't hold its shape.
Loose skin slid away first. Thick slabs of pale lard sloughed from its sides and struck the arena floor with wet slaps. Muscle folded outward as the legs separated from the central mass and the malformed head sank into the collapsing flesh.
Within seconds, there was no beast.
Only twitching meat and yellow-white fat spread across the stone.
Bloodrend hummed in my hand.
More.
"Nope."
I dismissed it immediately.
The cleaver melted beneath my skin.
The song vanished with it.
Then my legs gave out.
I sat down hard.
"Ow."
Knight appeared beside me.
"You succeeded."
"That feels generous."
Bloody scoffed.
"You slaughtered it."
"It used me as a ball."
"Details."
I stared at what remained.
I'd won.
But the victory didn't feel impressive.
Tias had given me an opening.
Lazy had found it.
Bloodrend had nearly turned me into an idiot with a cleaver.
And I'd spent most of the fight getting beaten around the arena.
My gaze rose toward the observation platform.
Vanguard.
That was where I needed to go.
Where the constants were.
The hero.
His companions.
People who had trained for years—some probably since childhood.
They didn't need to consciously remember footwork, distance, timing, or mana control.
Their bodies already knew.
Knight could explain techniques.
Bloody could show me how he'd fought.
Soul Diver could give me fragments of their experiences.
But memories weren't muscle.
Knowing what another version of me had done wasn't the same as spending ten years teaching my own body how to do it.
Someone from Vanguard probably would've killed that thing faster.
Cleaner.
Without fracturing half their body.
Without briefly losing their mind to their own weapon.
I stared at my hands.
Bloodrend had given me power.
A ridiculous amount of it.
And somehow that made the real problem more obvious.
I didn't just need strength.
I needed a way to close the experience gap.
Because I couldn't cram a lifetime of combat training into a few months, and everyone I needed to catch would keep improving while I tried.
I leaned my head back.
"Fuck."
Lazy glanced over.
"What now?"
"I actually have to learn how to fight."
Bloody smiled.
"Finally."
I pointed at him.
"Not from you."
His smile vanished.
"Then remain mediocre."
"See? Exactly why not."