The pale blue light emitted from Wralq’s copper badge pierced through the crimson night of the Iron Forest, turning his remote clearing into a beacon that drew the desperate.
The surrounding thicket was violently shoved aside.
Bloodshot eyes, foul-smelling, heavy breaths, and the sharp clatter of steel unsheathed in rapid succession filled the air.
Driven to the brink of elimination, a lone child standing beneath a high-value light pillar was no competitor to them—he was their only lifeline.
The ground below suddenly trembled with deep, rhythmic impacts.
The final wave of the exam had awakened the boss-tier entities.
From the abyss to the west, the metallic screech of the Royal Mantis’s high-frequency scythes vibrated through every fiber of the damp earth.
Above in the canopy, acoustic tornadoes unleashed by the Queen Hornet stripped the blackened trees bare, exposing gnarled, ironwood branches.
Wralq did not draw his dagger.
He took no combat stance, nor did he deploy any overt elemental shields.
He simply stood there, his boots sinking into the thick mud, hands resting casually inside his coat pockets.
His dark violet eyes reflected the blood-red sky.
Only fools fight against the tide, Mammon whispered, his ancient mana swirling smoothly around Wralq’s core.
The master directs where the water flows.
Is the mental matrix ready?
Wralq replied with a cold thread of thought.
If the circle is too large, the surveillance mirrors will detect energy fluctuations.
If it’s too small, it won’t warp their minds.
That is why you have me, Mammon chuckled low in his throat.
Novices draw magic circles in the sky.
A monarch?
He buries them where it’s darkest.
Under Mammon’s guidance, Wralq built no conspicuous structures.
He wove dozens of micro-matrices, compressing ancient Demonic runes into spatial nodes no larger than coins.
Those tiny spell circles slithered secretly through the stagnant mud, embedding deep into the underground root system of the ironwood trees—completely blind to the surveillance mirrors above.
Activate.
Wralq twitched his left index finger inside his pocket.
Deep underground, the matrix nodes ignited silently.
Mind-Mirror Mirage did not summon flashy fire dragons or grand illusions.
It was a poison needle driven straight into the nervous system.
Dark mana rose like invisible steam, seeping into the pores of every living entity in the clearing.
The eight approaching candidates froze for a split second.
Their reality shattered.
Instead of a lone boy, they saw an expiring low-tier beast desperately clutching a heap of glowing score badges.
Directly behind them, synthesized auditory illusions simulated an opposing squad rushing to steal their spoils.
“Kill!
Don’t let them take it!” the leader roared, veins bulging along his neck.
Raising a greatsword flaming with earth mana, he charged forward like a madman.
At that exact moment, the Royal Mantis tore through the western tree line.
Its six-meter obsidian-armored body slammed down like a meteor.
Under the influence of the subterranean matrix, the boss entity didn’t see Wralq at all.
It saw eight high-threat intruders rushing straight for its territory.
The Mantis let out an ear-splitting screech.
Its high-frequency scythe swept out in a pitch-black arc.
CLANG!
The leader’s heavy greatsword shattered into fragments.
The raw kinetic shockwave blew four candidates off their feet, tumbling them into the muddy fern bushes.
The remaining mages roared in panic, unleashing an uncoordinated barrage of fireballs and ice lances straight at the giant insect boss.
Wralq stepped back three paces, submerging completely into the deep shadow of an ancient tree.
“The root network dispersed the mana density,” Wralq noted mentally.
“Not a single surveillance mirror picked up an anomaly.” “Of course,” Mammon replied.
“Now, sit back and watch them butcher each other.” The battle devolved into a self-sustaining meat grinder.
Fueled by the illusion, the candidates fought with suicidal frenzy.
The Mantis unfurled its glass-like hindwings, raining razor-sharp armor shards that plowed through the dirt.
Two minutes.
The safety talismans of four candidates burst into brilliant light, violently yanking them out of the trial realm as their vital signs hit rock bottom.
Their abandoned copper badges dropped into the mud, gleaming with accumulated scores.
From the northern canopy, the Queen Hornet swooped down.
Its nine-meter wingspan generated localized tornadoes that stripped away the topsoil.
A grey lightning bolt discharged from its stinger, striking both the surviving candidates and the Royal Mantis.
Enraged by the aerial assault, the Mantis leaped high into the air, locking its scythes around the Queen’s heavy metallic thorax.
The two giant living fortresses collided furiously, free-falling into the swamp and crushing those beneath them.
The final four candidates were caught directly in the crossfire.
In seconds, their protective barriers shattered, and their exit charms triggered one after another.
The clearing fell into a horrific silence, broken only by the raspy, dying struggles of the two bosses.
The Mantis had lost a wing, but the Queen’s giant stinger was buried deep in its central core, discharging thousands of volts that charred its internal magic circuits.
Both bosses had their health dropped below 5%.
Their cores are exposed, Mammon urged.
Use Mana-Rupture.
Wralq stepped out of the shadows.
Drawing his dark iron dagger, he approached the two thrashing behemoths with measured steps.
Mana-Rupture was a Tier-2 spell constructed entirely from ancient Demonic runes.
Unlike human magic formulas that lost up to forty percent of their energy to the environment, Demonic script acted as a frictionless conduit.
It channeled directly into the target’s mana node, detonating the internal structure from within.
The Royal Mantis raised its remaining scythe in a feeble, dying attempt to crush him.
Wralq lowered his center of gravity, slipping past the slow swing effortlessly.
He lunged forward, driving the iron dagger into a crack in the Mantis’s chest armor.
Mana-Rupture.
A needle-thin thread of pitch-black Demonic mana shot out from the tip of the blade.
CRACK!
The Royal Mantis shuddered violently.
Its glowing red eyes went dark instantly before its entire body collapsed into a mountain of grey ash.
Without missing a beat, Wralq spun around and leaped onto the Queen Hornet’s thorax, driving his dagger deep into the base of its skull.
A high-frequency shockwave destroyed its internal flight core.
The giant hornet let out a weak metallic hiss before collapsing into an immobile pile of scrap metal.
The copper badge in Wralq’s pocket vibrated violently.
A rapid cascade of high-pitched chimes sounded as it absorbed the massive bounty for taking down two bosses, alongside the abandoned badges scattered across the mud.
1,500…
3,000…
4,800 points.
A flashing red text appeared on the interface: Current Rank: Top 3% Global.
Too high.
Wralq frowned slightly.
Top 3% will draw every surveillance mirror right to me.
Shed the excess, Mammon instructed.
Transfer the points into the environment.
Wralq’s mind calculated in a fraction of a second.
To land safely in the Top 30% to 35% range—the perfect grey zone to avoid notice while staying well above elimination—he needed roughly 1,100 points.
With a swift flick of his finger, 3,680 points were dumped directly into the trunk of a nearby ironwood tree.
His rank plummeted instantly.
Top 32%.
His score settled at exactly 1,120 points.
“Perfect,” Wralq whispered, sheathing his dagger.
Suddenly, a sharp, icy chill pierced the back of Wralq’s neck.
It wasn’t the brainless aggression of a wild monster.
It was the refined, razor-sharp presence of a true apex predator.
Wralq slowly turned his head.
Standing motionless on a scorched branch to the east was a young girl.
Her long, deep blue hair swayed gently in the swamp wind, and her pale, ice-blue eyes were locked onto him.
Around her palm, a pressurized ring of water spun rapidly, producing a high-pitched hiss against the damp air.
Princess Lehih of the Lopre Kingdom.
She had pursued the Queen Hornet from her own zone, arriving just in time to witness the final seconds of the battle.
Lehih landed silently in the mud fifty paces away.
“You,” her voice rang out, clear and bone-chilling.
“Who are you?” Wralq didn’t answer right away.
He dropped his shoulders, hunched over, and pulled his oversized coat tighter around himself.
His violet eyes widened, mimicking the shock of a survivor who had narrowly escaped death.
“I…
I am Wralq, Your Highness,” he stammered in a trembling voice.
“I was hiding in the bushes…
The two giant monsters fought to the death…
I only stepped out when they…
when they collapsed…” Lehih narrowed her eyes.
The puncture on the Mantis’s chest was far too clean.
More importantly, faint reverberations of an unfamiliar magic still lingered in the air.
She raised her right hand slightly.
The pressurized water ring spun faster, frosting the air around them.
“A lucky survivor standing untouched amid the ash of two royal bosses?” Lehih questioned sharply.
“And your score…
it flickered into the top three percent for a fraction of a second before dropping.
How do you explain that?” Wralq’s heart rate didn’t skip a beat, though he allowed his physical body to take a small, fearful step back.
She relies on logic, Mammon whispered.
Give her the logic a weakling would use.
“I…
I don’t know!” Wralq stuttered, raising his hands defensively.
“When the giant bug dissolved, my badge started ringing wildly and glowing bright blue!
I was terrified it would attract more monsters, so I hit the reset button on the side to dump the points!
I didn’t want them…
I just want to live!” The coldness in Lehih’s eyes held for five long seconds.
The terror, the hunched posture, and the panicked reaction of a low-born candidate suddenly thrust into a massive score light…
everything aligned perfectly with the mindset of the weak.
It was far more plausible that a terrified fourteen-year-old had panicked than that he possessed the power to solo two boss entities.
Besides, the exam countdown was in its final seconds.
Attacking a nameless candidate would yield no benefits and could tarnish her reputation as a noble royal scholar.
The water ring around Lehih’s hand dispersed.
The frost on the grass retreated.
“You possess extraordinary luck, Wralq of Corvus,” Lehih said coldly, turning her back on him.
“Pray that your luck holds in the second phase.
The next test won’t provide bushes to hide in.” With a swift push, she launched herself into the air, disappearing into the dark canopy above.
The fearful expression on Wralq’s face vanished instantly, replaced by a stone-cold, unreadable calm.
A sharp one, Wralq thought.
Bur she believes what she wants to believe, Mammon chuckled softly.
Next time, we’ll make sure the picture she sees points exactly where we want it to.
BOOM!
A massive magic chime resonated from the clouds.
The countdown reached 00:00:00.
“Phase One is now concluded.
All combat matrices are suspended.
Prepare for spatial teleportation.” The red world shattered into countless shards of blinding white light.
When his vision returned, Wralq found himself standing once again on the cobblestone courtyard of the Royal Academy.
The contrast was stark.
Three hours ago, thousands of proudly dressed noble youths filled the grounds.
Now, fewer than eight hundred remained.
Most were covered in soot, mud, and dried blood, their fine clothes torn, weapons chipped, and breath heavy with exhaustion.
High above on the central balcony, senior archmages in crimson robes stood in a silent line.
Floating above the courtyard was a giant projection screen displaying the final results.
Out of 4,000 applicants, only 800 had survived, and only the top 600 scores earned passage to the second stage.
The crowd below buzzed with nervous whispers.
Near the top, glowing in brilliant gold script, were the expected names: Princess Lehih (Lopre Kingdom) – 12,450 Points Grand Princess Eleanor (Norden Kingdom) – 11,800 Points Lord Kenneth (Northern Duchy) – 10,900 Points And far down the list, buried deep in the middle tier where no surveillance mirror or noble spectator cared to look: 184.
Wralq Corvus (House Corvus) – 1,120 Points Wralq looked up at his name on the screen.
He had achieved every objective for the first phase: his official identity was bound to the academy, his mana reserves were virtually untouched at ninety-two percent, and he had secured a spot in the shadows.
Phase one complete.
Rest well tonight, Mammon purred smoothly in his mind.
Tomorrow, they strip away the wilderness and put your mind to the test in an open trial.
That is where the real game begins.
Wralq adjusted his coat collar, turned around, and melted into the crowd of cheering and weeping candidates, vanishing into the twilight settling over the capital.