Melo had just brought the opening of her speech to a close.
Among the tightly packed ranks of the surviving recruits, a leaden silence settled in—heavy and suffocating.
Visceral fear was written plainly in everyone’s eyes.
First, it was the raw panic of having to endure a training regimen that, while promising to make them stronger, demanded they risk their lives every single second.
Second, it was the primal dread of finding themselves trapped on Gregory Island—a wild, unknown territory subject to the absolute authority of an Eresboros commander whose coldness was matched only by her cruelty.
Despite the unspeakable pain slicing through his back and the panic threatening to paralyze his limbs, Lucas forced himself to stay focused.
He observed closely, analyzing every word and every subtle inflection in the Sprigan’s voice.
He knew that under these conditions, the slightest misread instruction could cost him his life.
A thin, mirthless smile stretched his chapped lips, and he let out a muffled laugh.
Thinking like this, analyzing danger with cold logic…
that was Drey’s way.
Without even realizing it, he was already adopting his friend’s instincts to survive.
Suddenly, shattering the group’s inertia, Melo made a sharp gesture with her hand.
Without another word, she shot forward toward the interior of the island, ordering them with a single look not to lose sight of her.
Instantly, the crowd burst into motion.
Everyone began running with all their might, scrambling to keep up with the commander’s pace.
Melo was fast.
Her stride was fluid, almost weightless.
For a Sprigan—whose natural agility and speed were their primary combat traits—this rough terrain was mere child’s play.
She glided across the rocky ground with insulting ease, rapidly opening a disheartening gap between herself and the mass of recruits.
As she advanced, her amber eyes swept over the trail ahead.
How many of them will even manage to follow me?
she thought with quiet contempt.
We shall soon see who deserves to bear our mark.
Behind her, the recruits were already gasping for air, struggling to close the distance.
For now, at the start of this wild sprint, the majority managed to hold the line well enough.
Lucas ran alongside the others.
Every step sent a painful shockwave through the severe burn on his back, but his iron willpower forced him forward, one foot after the other.
Beside him, Narissa Varain progressed with obvious difficulty.
Fatigue quickly painted itself onto the Neid’s features.
The azure blue of her scaled skin looked strangely pale, almost dull without protective oils, and her breathing grew increasingly raspy from the island’s dry air.
A massive shadow detached itself from the group and slowed down to match the young woman’s stride.
It was the imposing Grod who had distinguished himself during the dormitory massacre by ripping the weapon from his attacker’s hands.
His massive red frame seemed to move with surprising lightness, a mischievous grin playing on his face.
“Hey…
blue miss…
you doing alright?” he asked mockingly.
“You know, I really liked how you carved up the meat during the last elimination.
Got a hell of a wrist action.”
Narissa didn’t deign to spare him a glance.
She kept her eyes fixed on Melo’s distant outline, focusing all her strength on her run.
Undeterred by her silence, the Grod kept rambling as his long strides ate up the ground.
“Someone told me once that if you Neids can breathe underwater, it’s thanks to the blessing of some primordial god…
That true, or is it just sailor bullshit?”
The young woman remained silent, her jaw clenched tight.
“Tell me…” the red giant continued, leaning in slightly.
“Is it because you haven’t been near the sea in too long that your skin looks so pale?
You could almost pass for one of those Asthartes vampires…”
Chogo let out a boisterous laugh, speeding up slightly to cut right in front of her.
Seeing that she was still ignoring him completely, another thought crossed his mind.
His smile grew bolder, almost seductive.
“By the way…
would you be interested in going out with me sometime?
I’ve always wondered what it was like to sleep with a Neid…
And I gotta admit, you’re pretty hot in your own way.”
This time, the provocation hit its mark.
Narissa snapped her head toward him, her dark eyes flashing with cold fury.
“Listen to me carefully, sand gorilla,” she hissed through her teeth.
“If you liked my knife work so much, I’m sure you’ll love feeling my blade cut your throat from ear to ear.
So get out of my way before I use you for practice.”
Far from intimidated, the Grod burst out laughing.
“Fair enough, blue miss…
We’ll catch up later to finish our chat!”
With an impressive surge of speed for his athletic build, he leaped forward and passed the Neid, vanishing deeper into the mass of runners.
Chogo observed the other recruits who were beginning to falter, sweat glistening on their foreheads.
His eyes were drawn to a boy with an innocent, almost fragile face, whose physique suggested extreme physical exertion was not his specialty.
Yet, the kid was doing surprisingly well.
Noticing that the back of his shirt was nothing more than a shred of bloody rags, Chogo moved closer.
“Hey…
you…
yeah, you there!
You doing alright, buddy?”
Out of instinct, he prepared to answer with his usual kindness, but a sudden thought stopped him cold.
If Drey were here…
he wouldn’t answer.
In a syndicate like this, any attempt at a friendly approach could be a trap or a way to find a weakness.
Silencing his sociable nature, Lucas remained stony-faced and kept running, keeping his eyes fixed straight ahead.
Chogo, taking note of the boy’s stubborn silence, grinned even wider.
“Alright, I get it…
I was gonna ask how you got that nasty burn on your back, but you’re not in a talking mood, huh?
Too bad…”
“Oh, almost forgot: I’m Chogo.
Hope we get a chance to chat more when we get a breather.”
The Grod began to pass him to join the front runners, but a low, breathless voice rose behind him:
“Lucas…
My name is Lucas.”
Chogo barely slowed down, glancing over his shoulder before letting out a hearty laugh:
“Lucas!
Well, Lucas, you really look like a damn virgin, buddy!”
With that parting mock, the red giant picked up his pace and swiftly vanished among the lead recruits.
Lucas shook his head, slightly taken aback by the eccentric character.
But in a dark criminal organization, normal didn’t exist.
Despite his own doubts about his place within Eresboros, he knew he had to keep moving.
I’d love to use Fantasia to boost my speed…
Lucas thought, feeling the Daken mark pulse against his ribs.
But in my current state, without preparation, it would be suicidal.
I have to do this on my legs alone.
For Drey.
Ahead of them, the edge of Gregory Island’s great forest rose like an impenetrable wall.
Upon reaching the first colossal trees, Melo didn’t slow down.
With a powerful leap, she launched off the ground and began bounding from branch to branch with the silent agility of a ninja, vanishing under the dark canopy.
The first recruits finally reached the treeline.
Up to this point, the island had only been rocky plains and medium-sized trees, but this forest was different.
The trunks were gargantuan, soaring into the sky like cathedral pillars, and daylight barely scraped through.
Everyone instantly understood that the true dangers of the island began here.
Hardly had the first runners crossed into the shadowy woods when a piercing hiss split the air.
From high up in the canopy, massive winged creatures with leathery bat wings and razor-sharp beaks swooped down on the intruders.
Recruits had to throw themselves to the ground to dodge talons aiming to tear their faces off.
Further ahead, a recruit who had barely escaped the aerial attack plunged deeper beneath the trees.
Suddenly, he froze.
Standing before him was a nightmarish beast over seven feet tall.
Its thick black fur absorbed the faint light, and its large dark eyes locked onto the intruder with ancient hunger.
The creature stood upright on its hind legs, but the most terrifying part was its four pairs of arms—two of which were casually crossed over its chest.
Before the man could even make a move to retreat, the monster lunged with terrifying speed.
With the wet sound of tearing flesh, the beast’s stomach split open down its entire length, revealing a gaping cavity from which two immense, slimy black tongues shot out.
The appendages coiled tightly around the screaming recruit, lifting him off the ground before violently pulling him inside the creature’s stomach, which snapped shut immediately with a sickening crunch.
Chogo arrived at the forest’s edge.
His Grod instincts, honed by the traps of the vast deserts, whispered that this place was a walking graveyard.
Yet a fierce smile stretched across his lips.
Nothing was going to stop him.
He charged beneath the giant trees without a shred of hesitation.
Lucas, exhausted and at the end of his strength, was quickly overtaken by Narissa, whose pale blue complexion betrayed an equally critical level of exhaustion.
The two young people exchanged a look heavy with mutual understanding.
Before them opened the dark dome of the forest.
Together, followed by the remaining surviving recruits, they crossed the threshold and entered the green hell.
Malbour — The Slums
Meanwhile, far away from parallel dimensions and cursed islands, life moved at its monotonous, cruel pace in the slums of Malbour.
Amidst the filth and poverty, an old merchant worked hard to survive on the meager income of his small barter shop.
He was a man worn down by time, yet respected for a kindness rare in this abandoned neighborhood.
Stepping out of his shop on his way to the central market, his gaze settled on the adjacent alleyway, where two familiar figures used to hang around.
It had been long weeks since he had last seen the two boys.
The old man pulled his frayed shawl tighter around his shoulders, a pang of worry gripping his heart, and muttered to himself:
“Little Drey…
little Lucas…
I hope with all my heart you’re doing alright, wherever you are.”
Inside the giant forest of Gregory Island, every recruit was now on high alert.
Lucas, still running as best he could, was forced to stop for a moment.
His muscles screamed, wrecked by cumulative fatigue and the throbbing pain in his back.
Around him, he noticed several other recruits had also collapsed against the massive trunks, overwhelmed by the effort.
The forest was deeply ominous.
Beneath the dense canopy, darkness held total sway.
It felt as though monsters ripped straight out of forgotten mythologies could spring from the shadows at any second.
As Lucas sat on the damp earth trying to calm his frantically beating heart, he felt a cold, scaly slither brush against his wrist.
Gasping, he looked down, and his blood ran cold.
It was a species of serpent with glowing, bloodshot red eyes.
Its sickly green skin appeared studded with macabre patterns—tiny, skull-shaped bony growths seemed embedded directly into its scales.
Strangely, on its flat forehead, a triangular symbol of pure gold gleamed with a mystical radiance.
Lucas jerked his hand back in a sudden panic.
Reacting to the movement, the serpent coiled back before opening its jaw unnaturally wide, ready to strike.
The inside of its mouth revealed needle-sharp fangs and terrifying blood-red flesh.
Suddenly, hissing echoed from all directions.
The recruits who had paused to rest realized with horror that dozens of these reptiles of all sizes—some tiny, others several meters long—were emerging from the gnarled roots and damp humus.
Panic immediately seized the group.
Men began running frantically in all directions, but the predators moved with blinding speed.
Several recruits were caught, their screams of pain echoing through the woods as venomous fangs sank into their flesh.
Lucas, paralyzed with dread, bolted.
As he tried to carve a path through the briars, a desperate hand suddenly clamped onto his ankle.
Looking back, he saw one of the recruits on the ground, face bathed in tears, begging not to be left behind.
A massive snake was sinking its teeth deep into the unfortunate man’s calf.
Lucas froze.
Had it been Drey, the logical choice would have been to keep running without looking back to save his own skin.
But Lucas couldn’t suppress his nature.
Unable to bring himself to abandon the man to his death, he grabbed the recruit’s hands firmly and pulled with all his strength.
Under the sheer force of the tug, the snake’s bite tore away a chunk of flesh.
The man shrieked in agony, but Lucas managed to haul him free.
Supporting him as best he could by the shoulder, he dragged him along in his desperate escape.
Meanwhile, Chogo progressed deeper into the forest.
He had managed to distance himself from most of the group and now found himself almost alone in the gloom.
Suddenly, high-pitched, rasping laughter echoed from the treetops, seemingly mocking him.
The Grod stopped dead, senses sharp.
From the surrounding branches, small, stocky figures emerged.
They were a sort of dark-skinned, rough-textured dwarf, clad in crude leather rags and armed with makeshift spears tipped with carved stone.
Their yellow eyes gleamed with undeniable carnivorous hunger, and a few were already licking their lips as they sized up the red giant.
Chogo stared back, completely unfazed.
He cracked his massive knuckles, a fierce, provocative smirk stretching his lips.
“Well now…
looks like the welcoming committee is a bit short on legs today,” he quipped aloud.
“I take it you’re not gonna let me pass nicely to catch up with the commander…
Good.
I needed a warm-up.”
Further back, Lucas’s progress had turned into pure agony.
He moved at a painfully slow pace, crushed under the weight of the recruit he carried.
The man could no longer walk; his bitten leg was nothing more than a mass of purplish, festering flesh, and he admitted he could no longer feel his limbs.
Despite his agony, he turned a grateful look toward Lucas.
“Thank you…
thank you for not leaving me back there…
My name is Ben,” he whispered weakly before losing consciousness.
After what felt like hours of trudging beneath the oppressive trees, Lucas collapsed to his knees.
His muscles trembled violently, and the pain in his back had become unbearable.
He didn’t have the strength to take another step.
Gently placing Ben against the trunk of a gargantuan tree, he slid down beside him, his mind consumed by doubt.
I can’t go on…
What am I doing here?
Why did I agree to join these monsters…?
Utterly spent, his body broken, Lucas finally sank into a heavy, dreamless sleep as the pitch-black night descended upon the forest of giants.
Hours later, a bone-chilling shiver yanked Lucas from his stupor.
His eyelids felt heavy.
Opening his eyes with great effort beneath the pale moonlight filtering through the branches, he caught sight of a massive silhouette moving slowly a few yards away.
The creature walked with a jerky, unnatural hunch, its head tilted strangely to the side.
A disgusting sucking noise escaped its mouth, long trails of thick saliva dripping onto its chest.
Lucas tried to push himself up to flee, but his numb muscles refused to obey.
He looked around for Ben, but the spot where he had laid him was empty.
It was then that the hunched silhouette turned slowly toward him.
Lucas felt his heart skip a beat.
The tattered clothes the creature wore were unmistakably Ben’s.
But his face was no longer human.
His features had caved in, his skin turned a sickly green identical to the reptiles that had attacked them.
From his hollow, pitch-black eye sockets emerged not eyes, but a swarm of tiny green snakes bearing skull markings, slithering and locking their red pupils on Lucas.
The abomination took a heavy step toward him, its jaw dislocating with a sickening crack to let out a guttural, terrifying voice:
“Blood…
I…
devour…
you…”
Terror struck Lucas to his core.
Alone, weakened, and unarmed before this nightmare born of his own mercy, he truly understood the harsh reality of Eresboros.
How was he going to survive this?
And more importantly, would he even make it through his very first day of training?