Inside the training ground, five figures already stood waiting, each radiating a different kind of presence. The battle course students murmured among themselves as Cain stepped forward.

  “Everyone,” Cain began, his voice echoing across the arena, “today’s training will focus on your individual specialties.”

  He gestured toward the first instructor.

  “For Kyle, who specializes in stealth and assassination—

  Sergeant Connor Fraiser.

  A master of infiltration, silent takedowns, and advanced camouflage techniques.”

  Connor nodded once, his face unreadable beneath a hooded stealth suit.

  Cain moved on.

  “For Takeshi, whose specialization is weaponry—

  Sergeant Aoi Nishimura.

  She’s proficient in over forty weapon types. If it can cut, stab, or break bones, she can teach you how to master it.”

  Aoi twirled a wooden practice sword effortlessly, her stance flawless.

  “For Serafina, vanguard and support combat—

  Sergeant Kim Min-jae.

  A defensive specialist and designated combat medic. He will strengthen your endurance and refine your healing techniques.”

  Min-jae bowed politely, his shield resting against his shoulder.

  “For Natalia, swift and flowing combat—

  Sergeant Beatriz Fernandes da Costa.

  She’ll train your movement, precision, and rhythm until your body becomes pure motion.”

  Beatriz cracked her knuckles with a confident grin, her posture light and dance-like.

  “And for Anya, long-range sniping and ballistic combat—

  Sergeant Nikolai Viktorovich Orlov, one of the best sharpshooters in the Battle Infantry.”

  Nikolai simply raised two fingers in greeting, his expression calm but deadly.

  Cain clapped once.

  “You all may go to your designated instructors.”

  The students nodded and dispersed, Kyle to Connor, Takeshi to Aoi, Serafina to Min-jae, Natalia to Beatriz, and Anya to Nikolai, each group beginning their specialized training.

  Only Kael remained.

  He watched the others walk away, then turned to Cain.

  “What about me, Lieutenant? Who’s going to train me?”

  Cain slowly stepped onto the central ring.

  The arena lights caught his figure, making him look sharper, stronger, than ever before.

  A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

  “Isn’t it obvious?”

  He lifted his fists and rolled his sleeves up to his shoulders.

  “I’m the one who’s going to train you, Kael.

  All-around combat.

  No shortcuts.

  No holding back.”

  Kael felt a shiver run through him, not of fear, but anticipation.

  He remembers the first time he and Cain met, it was on that same exact ring. He then smiled and entered the ring with joy.

  The real training was about to begin.

  Days turned into weeks.

  Training became their new reality.

  Every sunrise meant another trial: grueling drills, sparring sessions that pushed their limits, spirit channeling exercises that scorched their lungs and burned their muscles. The instructors showed no mercy, but none of the cadets asked for any.

  Each of them was pushed to the very brim, breaking down bad habits, reforging instincts, sharpening spirit energy until it flowed like a second heartbeat. They stumbled, fell, failed, and rose again.

  No matter how harsh the regimen became, not a single cadet gave up.

  Because they all understood one truth:

  If they quit now…

  If they slacked for even a moment…

  Someone, maybe a friend, maybe family, maybe even themselves, might be the next victim of an Abberant.

  And so, with grit in their teeth and resolve burning in their chest, they endured. Together, they continued to climb, driven by fear, hope, and the desperate desire to protect the lives that still mattered.

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  On the final day of training, the instructors gathered all the cadets and led them back to the hunting ground.

  The moment the treeline came into view, a cold shiver ran through the trainees.

  Memories, bloody, chaotic, horrific, rushed back like a flood.

  Screams.

  Running.

  The Abberant in the darkness.

  The cadets froze for a heartbeat… but then they forced themselves to breathe. They had sworn to move forward, not just from the trauma, but beyond the fear that once paralyzed them.

  Cain stepped ahead of the group, arms crossed.

  “The hunting ground is now clear,” he announced. “After the incident, every Abberant that lived here was hunted down. None remain.”

  A collective sigh of relief washed over the cadets.

  “Additionally,” Cain continued, “the area has been modified. It can now generate various environments for training, terrains you will one day fight Abberants in. Today, you will be using them for your final exam.”

  The cadets straightened up.

  “For this mission,” Cain declared, “each of you will have a one-on-one fight with your mentor. Your goal is to defeat them and show everything you’ve learned.”

  A murmur rippled through the group.

  “To ease your nerves,” Cain added, “your mentors may use Spirit Drive, but not their abilities, with the exception of passive abilities. Only you cadets may use skills and abilities. Drones will monitor every fight.”

  Kylon, in his salamander form, puffed out his chest.

  “Dear holder, choose me. I’ll carry you through!”

  Kawa, still in his bright red macaw form, flapped his wings angrily.

  “No, pick me! I’m obviously the better choice!”

  The two spirits immediately began bickering, squawking and hissing at one another.

  Kael sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

  “Both of you, calm down. I’ll equip each of you one at a time later. Stop fighting.”

  The spirits froze, glanced at each other, then reluctantly backed off with matching pouts.

  Cain raised a hand.

  “First pair, Kyle and Sergeant Connor.”

  The crowd parted as the two stepped forward toward the massive gate.

  Both raised their hands.

  “SPIRIT DRIVE!”

  A burst of energy flashed.

  Sergeant Connor now stood in his armor, a sleek jet-black suit with indigo accents, a shadowed hood, a lower mask covering his face, and raven-like motifs engraved across the plating. In his hand, a sharpened pair of kama.

  Kyle stood opposite.

  He wore a streamlined gray suit with violet highlights, a hood pulled low, and black goggles covering his eyes. Wolf-patterned armor plates lined his shoulders. His weapon, a kusarigama, glinted in the light.

  The gate creaked open.

  The moment they stepped past it—

  FWOOM.

  They vanished.

  Connor melted into a shadow that slithered along the ground and disappeared among the trees.

  Kyle’s body burst into a swirl of autumn leaves—

  —and a sudden wind blew them apart, scattering him into nothing.

  The drones blinked awake, their lenses focusing on the now-empty forest.

  The first battle had begun.

  After several minutes of static and shifting foliage, the drones finally managed to lock onto two faint heat signatures, Kyle and Sergeant Connor, each positioned on opposite ends of the simulated forest.

  Both were motionless.

  Both were hidden.

  Both were suppressing their presence to near-zero.

  A true stealth duel had begun.

  Kyle crouched low on a tree branch, barely visible even to the drone’s enhanced lenses.

  He exhaled slowly.

  “Pack Hunt.”

  The ground below him trembled.

  From the soil sprouted wolf-like shapes, creatures woven from twisting vines and spirit energy, their lupine forms both plantlike and feral. One by one, they emerged with silent growls, eyes glowing faint violet to match Kyle’s Spirit Drive.

  Kyle whispered, “Find Sergeant Connor. Corner him.”

  The vine wolves dipped their heads in acknowledgment, then scattered, darting through bushes, leaping up trees, weaving through shadows in five different directions.

  They made no sound.

  No footprints.

  No broken branches.

  Only faint flickers of movement as they vanished into the forest—

  —hunting their prey.

  The drones zoomed in, tracking the vine creatures as they fanned out across the terrain…

  The chase was officially underway.

  Outside the hunting ground, the cadets gathered around the massive screen as the drones relayed the ongoing duel.

  Takeshi leaned forward, impressed by what he saw.

  “Damn… Kyle’s really pulling out his abilities today. That’s not like him,” he remarked, arms crossed.

  Serafina nodded in agreement, though her expression was noticeably tense. She kept her eyes fixed on the screen, fingers fidgeting at her side.

  Natalia slid beside her with a grin.

  “Why so tense? Your boyfriend’s gonna win,” she teased, elbowing Serafina lightly.

  Serafina instantly flushed scarlet.

  “W–What?! He’s not— He’s not my boyfriend!” she stammered, practically tripping over her own words. “Kyle is just… someone I’m close to. Someone who understands me.”

  Natalia raised a brow, smirk widening.

  “So… a boyfriend.”

  Serafina puffed her cheeks, turning away.

  “No! He’s not!”

  Before Natalia could tease her further—

  BOOM!

  A loud impact echoed from the speakers. Everyone’s attention snapped back to the screen.

  The vine wolves had finally located Sergeant Connor. Half a dozen spectral lupine heads lunged from the underbrush, surrounding him from every angle. Connor moved like a blur, disappearing into shadows, reappearing behind a wolf, striking, then vanishing again. He used the terrain as if it were part of his own body, weaving between trees, kicking off trunks, dragging wolves into darkness with him.

  But the wolves were relentless.

  Kyle’s strategy was working.

  For the first time, Connor was on the defensive.

  Serafina swallowed hard, gripping the edge of her chair as the tension ramped up on screen.

  The drones shifted their focus, tracking Kyle as he sprinted through the dense forest, following the trail of his vine wolves. Leaves burst upward as he finally caught up to them, just in time.

  He hurled the chains of his kusarigama, aiming to bind Sergeant Connor’s position.

  But Connor noticed.

  CLANG!

  In a single sharp motion, he blocked the chain with his kama, then immediately melted into the shadows, vanishing from sight.

  Kyle tensed, eyes darting around the shifting terrain.

  “Stay alert,” he warned his wolves. “He could be anywhere.”

  A beat.

  Then—

  SHRRK!

  From the shadow beneath one of the vine wolves, Connor’s kama shot upward like a serpent strike, slicing clean through the wolf’s head. The creature’s body crumpled, vines unraveling into dead roots.

  Kyle’s breath hitched. Anger flared.

  Seeing his summoned beast fall fueled something sharp and reckless in him.

  He rammed his kusarigama into the ground, shouting—

  “Deep Strike!”

  The earth ruptured violently, boulders and slabs of terrain tearing free, floating upward as shockwaves rattled the forest.

  Outside the hunting ground, the instructors exchanged glances.

  “Impressive,” Sergeant Aoi muttered.

  “Stealth-types aren’t normally capable of that kind of brute force,” Sergeant Nikolai added.

  Back inside the arena—

  As the terrain trembled, Connor finally revealed himself, hovering atop one of the levitating boulders. His cloak flickered like smoke around him.

  Kyle wasted no time.

  “Go!”

  The vine wolves charged, leaping from boulder to boulder, snapping and snarling.

  But Connor was too fast.

  He slipped between them, twisted midair, and severed their heads one by one, precise, merciless strikes. Each wolf fell apart into vines and dust.

  Landing lightly on a slab of stone, Connor called out:

  “Using them as bait was smart. Risky, but smart.”

  Without warning, he flicked a kama toward a nearby tree.

  THUNK—BOUNCE—WHIP!

  The weapon ricocheted off the bark, and struck directly at a figure hiding behind it.

  A figure that stumbled out…

  Only to unravel into vines.

  A clone.

  Kyle finally stepped out from the real hiding spot behind a broken pillar, expression tight.

  “How’d you know that wasn’t me?”

  Connor spun a kama around his finger.

  “The clone? It was obvious.”

  He smirked under his mask.

  Kyle exploded forward, dashing straight toward Sergeant Connor.

  “Pack Hunt!”

  But this time, what rose from the ground were not wolves.

  They were him.

  Five vine-like Kyle clones sprouted from the soil, each one mimicking his stance, his movements, and the faint violet glow of his spirit energy. They grinned in unison, then shot forward.

  Connor slipped into the shadows before they could reach him, melting like ink into blackness.

  But one of the Kyle-clones predicted it.

  BOOM!

  It slammed its fist into the ground, shattering the terrain and forcing pieces of earth upward. The tremor distorted the shadows, disrupting Connor’s concealment.

  He was forced out, materializing midair with a flicker of indigo.

  A second Kyle-clone was already there.

  It spun and kicked.

  Connor blocked, but the force of the clone’s strength sent him hurling skyward, cape whipping behind him.

  Kyle’s real body remained grounded.

  His voice echoed:

  “Formation V!”

  The clones leapt, one after another, ascending in a synchronized spiral. They cornered Connor in the air, forming a deadly geometric pattern around him.

  Vines burst from their hands—

  SNAP!

  WHIP!

  BIND!

  Roots and tendrils lashed out, ensnaring Connor from all sides, binding his limbs, constricting his movement.

  From below, the ground erupted with more roots, forming a natural springboard.

  Kyle shot upward like a launched arrow, propelled by the vines.

  As he rose past the trapped Connor, he swung his kusarigama in a wide, clean arc—

  SLASH!

  The blow struck the vine-bindings, shattering the ensnarement and sending Connor crashing downward. His armor cracked with the impact.

  The forest fell silent.

  Then—

  DING!… DONG!… DING!

  A loud chime echoed through the entire hunting ground.

  Duel Complete — Winner: Kyle Delos Reyes

  Outside, the watching cadets erupted in cheers. The instructors exchanged impressed nods.

  Kyle landed, breathing hard, vines fading into the soil around him.

  He had won.