Ale walked up to the edge of the dome.

  The curved surface, with a soft golden glow, was still perfectly smooth. Not a single crack. Not even a tremble. As if nothing inside even mattered.

  "Do I have to activate something to get out? Some kind of mechanism...?" he muttered, frowning.

  His eyes scanned the area quickly, looking for a symbol, a strange stone, a clue. Anything.

  But before he could take another step... that familiar vibration filled the air again.

  A deep magical hum. Then cracking sounds.

  "...No way."

  Ale spun around.

  Behind him, new cracks were already forming in the air. Again.

  Clay golems, about half the size of a man, were spilling out fast.

  Ale slammed his fist against the dome’s wall, one last time. Just in case. But nothing happened. No reaction at all.

  He stepped back and took his battle stance again, knees slightly bent, sword in hand.

  "Is it just me... or did someone lie to me? Three waves, huh?" he growled through his teeth.

  "Fine. Come at me. I’ll take you all."

  There were twenty-four this time.

  Once again—twice as many.

  Ale decided to take the lead.

  He raised one hand and whispered,

  “Ventus Pedem.”

  A faint blue glow wrapped around his legs—

  and the next moment, his body shot forward.

  Like an arrow loosed from a bow, Ale dashed ahead.

  He crossed the field like a flash, sword raised, charging straight at the first golems.

  A vertical slash. Then a horizontal one.

  The animated statues shattered like they were made of dry wood. They didn’t even have time to react. The moment they lifted their arms—

  they were already broken.

  The young man moved with almost inhuman grace. Every strike was clean. Sharp. Precise.

  Some golems tried to fight back. Others grouped up, raising their clay weapons. But none of them could land a hit.

  Each blow from Ale’s blade sent vibrations through their bodies, breaking them from the inside. Even the sand on the ground seemed to echo with each strike, making the damage worse.

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  A few golems threw their swords from a distance like flying blades—

  but Ale dodged them without slowing down.

  His body flowed between the attacks like a shadow.

  One breath. One heartbeat.

  And he was already in front of them.

  One quick strike.

  Then another.

  And another.

  Within seconds, silence returned.

  Twenty-four golems... defeated.

  Not a single one got back up.

  “Is it... finally over?”

  Ale was breathing hard, bent forward with his hands on his knees. His breath burned in his throat.

  He scanned the dome. Nothing. No sound. No tremble.

  Nothing appeared.

  A good sign.

  “Thank—”

  He didn’t get to finish the word.

  In the distance, dozens of cracks burst from the ground at once—

  like a spiderweb tearing apart.

  Ale froze.

  Not a word. Just a sharp breath—

  cut short by fear.

  Massive shapes were forming again.

  “No…”

  His breath caught in his chest.

  For the first time since the trial began, he felt pressure gripping the back of his neck.

  A chill.

  A deep, heavy fear.

  The kind you can’t control.

  “This… is harder than I thought,” he whispered, lips dry.

  His face, calm until now, finally showed the worry he couldn’t hide anymore.

  But there was no time to panic.

  Not now.

  Not here.

  The new creatures were already moving.

  Forty-eight golems.

  Twice as many as before.

  Their heavy steps. Their rattling chains. Their march like war drums.

  Monsters. Machines.

  Built for destruction.

  Ale clenched his jaw.

  There was no room left for doubt.

  He had to fight. Again.

  -----------------------------------------------

  Eryndra sat cross-legged on the raised platform, her back straight.

  A small desk had been set up for her, high enough so she could oversee the entire exam at a glance.

  Her sundial showed that two hours had already passed.

  “The first winners should be coming out of the domes soon…”

  Several reports were already scattered across her desk. She glanced through them with sharp eyes:

  Dome 1-4, eliminated. 2-5, eliminated. 2-6, eliminated. 4-2... 5-1…

  All these papers had been brought by tiny magical creatures, fast as lightning, glowing like little hummingbirds — the Lunilumes, official messengers of the surveillance team.

  Thirty-six candidates, spread across thirty-six domes, each one with a ten-meter radius — that’s twenty meters wide.

  The arena was perfectly organized into six rows of five domes, all lined up neatly, with clear paths between them.

  The whole space measured about 160 meters long and 120 meters wide — a massive field, echoing with the distant sounds of combat, each one sealed inside its own magical bubble.

  Outside each dome stood a magic obelisk, provided by the Department of Magic Study and Development (DMSD). These powered the protective barriers and teleported golems inside, following a strict schedule: three waves per candidate.

  At the intersections between domes, the Guild Support Team (GST) was stationed — each member watching over two domes. They sent updates through the Lunilumes.

  Eryndra kept reviewing the reports.

  No one had finished yet.

  That was normal. Based on past years, the fastest ones usually took three hours to complete everything.

  “Failure rate’s a bit higher than usual,” she murmured.

  But that didn’t surprise her much. With the economy struggling, more and more young people were trying their luck in the guild, hoping to earn gold quickly.

  But adventuring wasn’t a game.

  It was risky. Dangerous.

  The exam existed to protect them… by discouraging those who weren’t ready.

  A harsh job. But a necessary one.

  “Captain!”

  A young man in his twenties came running, dressed in the official GST uniform. He was out of breath.

  “It’s Chief,” Eryndra corrected without even looking at him. “We say Chief, not Captain.”

  He tried again:

  “Chief, sorry, but… I didn’t have time to write a report. You have to come see. It’s serious! One of the candidates is still fighting… and there were more than 45 golems in his dome!”

  “WHAT?!” Eryndra jumped from her chair. With a quick sweep of her arm, she pushed the reports aside.

  “Lead the way. Show me the dome.”

  She had been supervising this exam for over three years. Zero serious injuries. Zero deaths.

  She wasn’t going to let that change now.

  “Not on my watch. Not today.”

  Her face turned hard. Silent and focused, eyes dark, she followed the young man as he ran ahead of her.