The training ground was already filled by the time Leo arrived, yet something about it felt completely different from before. It wasn't the number of trainees or the arrangement of the field. It was the silence.
No one spoke.
No one laughed.
Even the usual clatter of wooden swords or careless movement was gone. The air felt tight, as if something invisible had settled over the ground during the night, pressing down on everyone present.
Leo slowed his steps as he approached the line, instinctively aware that this was not just another day of training. The trainees stood straighter, their expressions sharper, their movements controlled. No one wasted energy. No one made unnecessary gestures.
Ryan stood beside him, his gaze fixed forward. For once, even he had nothing to say.
Leo glanced at him briefly. "It starts today?" he asked in a low voice.
Ryan didn't turn. "It already started," he replied.
Leo didn't fully understand what he meant, but something in his tone made him stop asking further questions.
At that moment, Kael stepped forward.
The effect was immediate.
The entire training ground fell into absolute stillness—not because anyone was ordered to, but because no one dared to move. His presence alone commanded silence.
His eyes swept across the trainees once. Sharp. Unforgiving. Measuring.
Not who they were—but what they were worth.
"The selection begins now."
No buildup. No explanation. Just those words.
Leo felt his fingers twitch at his sides, and he clenched them unconsciously.
"First test," Kael continued, his voice calm yet carrying weight across the field. "Endurance."
A subtle shift passed through the trainees. Some adjusted their footing. Others straightened instinctively. Leo remained still, waiting.
Then Kael gave a single command.
"Run."
For a fraction of a second, nothing happened.
Then the entire ground erupted into motion.
Dozens of trainees surged forward at once, their footsteps striking the earth in unison. Leo reacted a moment too late, but forced his body to move, pushing himself into the flow.
The moment he began running, the pain returned.
Not gradually.
Not slowly.
All at once.
His legs felt heavy, the soreness from the previous days settling deep into his muscles. Each step sent a dull ache upward through his body. His breathing quickly became uneven, too fast and too shallow.
The others ran differently.
Their pace was steady, controlled, almost practiced. Their bodies moved as if they understood exactly how much energy to use, how to maintain their rhythm.
Leo's body didn't.
Every step felt forced. Unstable. Behind.
But he didn't stop.
The path extended far beyond the usual training ground, circling toward the outer perimeter of the estate. The distance alone made it clear—this wasn't a simple test.
Time began to lose meaning.
Each second stretched longer than it should have. The sound of footsteps that had once been unified began to break apart as exhaustion set in. Some trainees slowed. Some stumbled. Some pushed forward through sheer will alone.
Leo's vision began to blur slightly.
His breathing turned ragged, his chest tightening painfully with each inhale. His arms stiffened, his legs trembling more with every step.
Still, he ran.
Then suddenly—
A body hit the ground.
The sound cut sharply through the rhythm of movement.
Leo's eyes shifted instinctively.
A trainee lay sprawled on the dirt, clutching his leg tightly, his face twisted in pain. He tried to get up—failed—and tried again.
"Sir—"
"Continue."
Kael's voice echoed from behind, cold and absolute.
The trainee froze for a moment, then forced himself to stand. His body shook violently as he took one step… then another…
…and collapsed again.
This time, he didn't move.
Two guards stepped forward immediately. Their movements were efficient, emotionless. Without a word, they lifted him and carried him away.
Just like that.
Gone.
Leo felt something tighten in his chest—not from exhaustion, but from realization.
There was no pause. No sympathy. No second chances.
You either continued…
or you disappeared.
"Don't look," Ryan's voice came from ahead. "Focus on your steps."
Leo forced his gaze forward again, nodding faintly.
The run continued.
Longer than it should have.
Longer than his body could endure.
More trainees began to fall behind. Some dragged their feet. Others stumbled, barely maintaining their balance.
Leo's body began to shut down.
His legs trembled uncontrollably, his breathing completely broken. His vision darkened at the edges, and at one point, he nearly tripped, barely catching himself before falling.
"Move…" he muttered weakly to himself.
It was the only thing keeping him going.
Then, suddenly—
"Stop."
The command rang out sharply.
Everything ended at once.
Leo took two more unsteady steps before his body gave in. He dropped to his knees, his hands hitting the ground hard as he struggled to breathe.
Each inhale burned.
Each exhale felt incomplete.
Around him, the remaining trainees stood in varying conditions—some steady, some shaking, some barely conscious.
Leo tried to stand.
His arms trembled violently as he pushed himself upward.
But they failed.
And he fell again.
"…Pathetic."
Kael's voice came, low and clear.
Leo clenched his fingers into the dirt.
"…But still here."
The words lingered.
"Those who remain standing—step forward."
Several trainees moved. Not many. Less than half.
Leo couldn't move.
His body refused to respond.
"Those who cannot stand… are dismissed."
The words hit harder than anything before.
Leo's mind went blank.
Dismissed.
No.
His fingers tightened.
His arms shook uncontrollably as he forced his body to move.
Pain surged through him.
His vision darkened further.
His breathing made no sense anymore.
But still—
he pushed.
Slowly.
Painfully.
He rose.
Unsteady.
Shaking.
Barely able to remain upright.
But standing.
A few trainees turned to look at him. Not with mockery. Not with sympathy. Just watching.
Kael observed silently.
Then he spoke.
"…Step forward."
Leo took a step.
It felt heavier than anything before.
But he did it.
He had passed.
Not because he was strong.
Not because he was skilled.
But because he didn't fall.
"Next test begins in one hour."
There was no rest.
No reward.
No relief.
Leo's body nearly gave out again at those words, but something held him together.
Not determination.
Not strength.
Just refusal.
Ryan walked past him, glancing briefly in his direction. "You made it," he said quietly.
Leo didn't respond, but his eyes remained open—focused, aware.
Then Kael's voice echoed once more.
"Next round… combat."
The word sank deep into Leo's mind.
Heavy. Unavoidable.
Kael's gaze shifted across the remaining trainees.
Then it stopped.
On Leo.
"…You."
Leo froze.
"…You fight next."
The air turned still again.
Across from him, someone stepped forward.
Tall.
Steady.
Unshaken.
Far stronger than him.
Leo felt his breath catch.
This time—
there would be no running.
.........
The words didn't just echo.
They settled.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
Leo stood still.
For a brief moment, his mind refused to process what he had just heard.
You fight next.
His body hadn't even recovered.
His legs still trembled slightly from the run.
His breathing was uneven, his chest rising and falling in short, strained bursts.
And yet—
there was no time.
No delay.
No chance to prepare.
A quiet murmur spread across the remaining trainees.
Low voices.
Barely audible.
"…Him?"
"…He can barely stand…"
"…Why first…"
The whispers didn't carry mockery.
Only observation.
Cold.
Detached.
As if they were already watching something inevitable.
Leo heard them.
But he didn't react.
Not because he didn't care—
but because he didn't have the strength to.
He slowly lifted his head.
His vision still slightly unfocused.
And then—
he saw him.
The one who stepped forward.
Tall.
Composed.
Unshaken.
His posture was straight, his movements controlled, as if the previous test had barely affected him.
There was no tension in his shoulders.
No instability in his stance.
Only calm.
The kind of calm that didn't come from confidence—
but from experience.
He stopped a few steps away from Leo.
His gaze settled on him.
Not with hostility.
Not with arrogance.
But with quiet curiosity.
As if trying to understand something.
"…You're the one Kael chose," he said.
His voice was steady.
Even.
Leo didn't reply.
He wasn't sure what to say.
Or if he even had the breath for it.
The distance between them felt… wrong.
Too large.
Not in space—
but in ability.
Leo could feel it without needing to measure.
The difference.
Clear.
Unavoidable.
For a brief moment, something passed through his mind.
Not determination.
Not anger.
Not even fear.
Just—
awareness.
A simple, undeniable understanding.
I can't win.
The thought came quietly.
Without resistance.
Without denial.
His fingers twitched slightly at his sides.
His body still heavy.
Still exhausted.
Still unprepared.
But—
he didn't step back.
He didn't look away.
Because somewhere deep inside—
there was something else.
Not strength.
Not courage.
Just—
refusal.
Refusal to fall again.
The opponent adjusted his grip on the wooden weapon.
Smooth.
Effortless.
Like someone who had done it countless times before.
Leo noticed it.
Not the movement—
but the ease behind it.
That alone told him everything.
Around them, the other trainees stepped back, creating space.
No one spoke now.
No whispers.
No movement.
Only silence.
Watching.
Waiting.
Kael stood at the edge of the field.
His gaze fixed on the two of them.
Unchanging.
Unreadable.
Leo swallowed dryly.
His throat felt tight.
His breathing uneven.
His body screamed for rest.
But there was none.
Not here.
Not anymore.
The opponent raised his weapon.
Slowly.
Calmly.
Not rushed.
Not aggressive.
Just ready.
Leo's grip tightened around his own.
It felt heavier than it should.
His hands slightly unsteady.
His stance imperfect.
Everything about him—
unprepared.
And yet—
he stood.
That alone felt strange.
The silence stretched.
Just for a moment.
Then—
Kael spoke.
"Begin."
The word fell.
And in that instant—
everything changed.