The moment the heavy horn echoed across the arena, the Demon Beast stopped moving.
It remained where it had collapsed, its chest rising and falling in slow, uneven breaths while blood continued soaking into the sand beneath it. The crimson glow in its eyes gradually faded until it resembled nothing more than an exhausted animal clinging to the last remnants of its strength.
Rook didn’t lower his guard.
He remained standing several meters away with one hand slightly raised, watching the creature without blinking. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest, and his breathing had become rough after nearly ten minutes of running, dodging, and casting spells. The soreness caused by forcing his Spirit to its current limit hadn’t disappeared either. If anything, the prolonged battle had only made it worse.
Only after nearly half a minute passed without the Demon Beast moving did he finally allow himself to exhale.
"So... it’s over."
His legs suddenly felt weak.
The tension that had been supporting his body throughout the battle vanished all at once, forcing him to sit heavily on the sand. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he stared at the arena ceiling, trying to steady his breathing.
"I almost died."
It wasn’t an exaggeration.
If even one of those attacks had connected properly, there was little doubt his body would have been torn apart.
The realization left an unpleasant feeling in his stomach.
Back on Earth, battles between Players and monsters were always shown on television. They looked exciting from behind a screen. Seeing explosions, powerful abilities, and monsters collapsing made everything resemble an action movie.
Living through one yourself was an entirely different experience.
There was no music.
No audience cheering.
No guarantee that the protagonist would survive simply because he happened to be the main character.
There was only fear.
Real fear.
The kind that made every heartbeat feel painfully loud.
A small notification blinked quietly at the corner of his vision, easy to miss after everything else that had just happened.
IIIIIIIIIIIIIII Trial Construct Subdued. No Experience Awarded.
Experience is granted only for confirmed kills or verified field missions. Evaluation constructs do not qualify.
IIIIIIIIIIIIIII Rook read it twice and let out a short, humorless laugh.
"So I nearly died for zero experience. Great."
At least now he understood the rule. Points from the System could be spent freely, but Rank itself only moved for things that counted — real fights, real missions, real risk beyond a sanctioned test pit. Whatever climbing he still had to do, infinite Upgrade Points weren’t going to do it for him.
He rubbed the back of his neck before letting out a tired laugh.
"I guess that’s one way to wake up."
A metallic creaking sound echoed throughout the arena.
The enormous gate opened once again, though this time several figures entered instead of another monster.
Cain led the group while four attendants dressed in Ashline’s uniform followed behind him. Two of them immediately approached the injured Demon Beast while another pair stopped beside Rook.
"You can stand?" one of them asked.
"I think so."
The attendant extended a hand toward him.
Rook accepted it and slowly climbed back to his feet. The moment he stood, pain spread throughout his legs, causing him to grimace.
"So it wasn’t just my imagination."
His body had definitely reached its limit.
The attendant glanced at him before nodding slightly.
"You overexerted yourself."
"You noticed?"
"It would have been difficult not to."
The attendant’s gaze briefly swept over Rook from head to toe.
"Your breathing became unstable halfway through the test, and your movements gradually lost precision. If the Demon Beast had remained in perfect condition, you probably wouldn’t have lasted much longer."
Rook couldn’t argue with that assessment.
The only reason he survived was because the Demon Beast had accumulated enough injuries to slow down.
Had the creature been fresh until the very end, the outcome might have been completely different.
Meanwhile, Cain walked toward the wounded beast.
Without saying a word, he rested one hand on the creature’s head.
The Demon Beast immediately calmed down.
The hostility in its crimson eyes disappeared almost instantly, replaced by an expression that almost resembled obedience.
Rook blinked.
"It listens to him?"
"Fang belongs to Ashline," the attendant explained after noticing his expression. "Every creature used during the Survival Test is captured alive before being trained. They’re dangerous, but they’re not mindless."
Rook looked at the enormous wolf again.
"So... it wasn’t trying to kill me?"
The attendant gave him an odd look.
"It absolutely was."
"...Right."
"I said it was trained. Not tamed."
Rook decided not to ask any more questions.
Cain slowly turned around before walking toward him.
For several seconds, neither of them spoke.
The armored instructor studied Rook with the same unreadable expression he had worn before the examination began.
Finally, he spoke.
"You passed."
Rook smiled faintly.
"I figured."
"You passed."
Cain repeated the words in exactly the same tone.
"But your performance was average."
The smile disappeared from Rook’s face.
"Average?"
"You survived."
"...Isn’t that the point?"
"It is."
Cain folded his arms.
"You survived because you adapted during battle. Had your opponent been a Demonkin instead of a Demon Beast, you would already be dead."
Rook frowned slightly.
"What difference would that make?"
"A Demonkin possesses intelligence comparable to a human."
Cain looked toward the injured wolf.
"This creature relied primarily on instinct. It chased the closest target, responded to pain with aggression, and repeated the same methods until it exhausted itself."
His gaze returned to Rook.
"A Demonkin would’ve recognized your habits after the first minute."
Rook remained silent.
"You repeatedly retreated toward open ground before casting. You preferred attacking immediately after dodging. Every time Fang cornered you against a wall, you broke left."
Rook’s eyebrows slowly rose.
He hadn’t consciously noticed any of those things himself — though now that Cain said it out loud, he could feel the shape of it. He’d done all three, more than once.
Cain continued calmly.
"Those habits made you predictable."
He paused briefly.
"A predictable opponent is a dead opponent."
Rook rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.
"When you put it like that..." "I’m not criticizing you."
Cain’s voice remained calm.
"You awakened yesterday."
That simple sentence surprised Rook more than any criticism.
"It would’ve been unreasonable to expect perfection."
He turned around and began walking toward the arena exit.
"Follow."
Rook glanced once more at the exhausted Demon Beast before quietly following behind.
As they climbed the stone staircase leading out of the arena, he noticed several trainees waiting outside.
The moment they saw him emerge, their conversations stopped.
Every pair of eyes settled on him.
Some looked surprised.
Others looked confused.
A few simply stared.
Rook frowned.
"What’s with them?"
"They’re waiting for the next evaluation," Cain answered without turning around.
"They’ve never seen someone survive on the first attempt."
Rook blinked.
"They haven’t?"
"They have, but not in this form, and not against Fang."
The surrounding trainees exchanged quiet whispers among themselves.
"So that’s the new Elementalist..." "I heard he only awakened yesterday."
"Didn’t he survive against Fang?"
"Impossible..." "It must’ve been weakened beforehand."
Rook scratched his cheek.
"They don’t seem very convinced."
"They shouldn’t be."
Cain finally stopped walking.
He looked directly at Rook for the first time since the test had ended.
"Because surviving once proves nothing. The remaining four evaluations begin tomorrow."
The words hung in the air for several moments.
Rook’s expression slowly stiffened.
"...Tomorrow?"
Cain nodded.
"Yes."