The morning sun of Windland filtered through the apartment window, casting long shadows over the gold-embossed flyer on the table. Cinder leaned back, his eyes tracing the steam rising from his tea.
"This tournament isn't a challenge for you, Techyon," Cinder said, his voice gravelly but certain. "The bracket is filled with F-ranks and C-ranks. On paper, you're a D-rank. But the moment you drop to that critical state... the moment the Auto Counter (Sign) triggers... you aren't just a C-rank. You're a god among insects."
Techyon looked at his hands, feeling the dormant power of the White-Bolt thrumming in his veins. "I know, Cinder. But with the Monarchs searching for us... should I really be stepping into a spotlight this bright?"
Cinder slammed his cup down, though a smirk played on his lips. "Of course you should. I haven't joined a dungeon raid in weeks, kid. We're down to our last few copper coins. If we're going to reach Hydro City, you need to win that 70,000 gold. Consider it your first 'S-Rank' mission."
Techyon turned to Kin, who had been leaning impatiently against the doorframe. "When does the trial start?"
"Two weeks," Kin replied, his eyes burning with a competitive fire. "I'm leaving now. I'm going to the High-Gale peaks to train until my lungs burst. Don't you dare lose to some 'Standard' weakling before I get my rematch, Techyon. I'm the one who's going to break your speed."
With a swirl of green wind, the Son of the Arcon vanished from the room.
Cinder stood up, his orange aura beginning to simmer. "You heard the brat. Let's start. If you want that gold, you're going to have to survive me first."
Two Weeks Later: The Day of the Gale
The atmosphere in Windland was electric. Thousands of adventurers crowded the streets, their armor clinking and weapons humming with mana. Techyon stood among them, his hood pulled low, scanning the crowd. There were hundreds—maybe thousands—of participants.
The Voice of the Announcer boomed across the square, amplified by wind magic.
"Welcome to the Grand Gale Trials! The first round is simple: A Battle Royale. Of the thousands standing here today, only the sixteen who survive will earn a seat in the main tournament bracket!"
Techyon tightened his grip on his blade. Sixteen out of thousands? The math is brutal.
"But," the Announcer's voice dropped into a chilling tone, "this Royale will not take place in the safety of our stone walls. Look to the North!"
He pointed toward a dense, suffocating canopy of black trees that sat on the edge of the city—the Forbidden Dark Forest.
"In that forest, there are no rules. There is no sunlight. There is only the hunt. You have one goal: survive until the sun sets. If you are one of the last sixteen standing when the bells ring, you move on."
Techyon felt the shift in the air. The "Standard" adventurers around him were already shaking, their hands trembling on their sword hilt.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
[MAP LOADED: THE SHADOW GLADE]
[CURRENT HP: 100%]
[AUTO COUNTER: STANDBY]
"I have to be careful," Techyon whispered to himself. "In a forest that dark, the 'Sign' might be the only light they see before they fall."
The Announcer raised his hand. The crowd went dead silent.
"Three..."
"Two..."
"One..."
"START!"
The gates creaked open, and a tide of humanity surged into the darkness. The hunt for 70,000 gold—and survival—had begun.