Faris sat on a fallen tree branch, back against rough bark, legs stretched out before him.
He was pretending.
Pretending to be shaken. Pretending to process trauma. Pretending to be... afraid.
Sen and Yara stood a short distance away, whispering to each other, casting occasional worried glances his way.
Good. Let them think I'm fragile. Makes manipulation easier.
He stared at his hands, keeping his expression carefully neutral.
Just wait for them to calm down. Then I'll convince them to—
Something hit him.
Not physically.
But internally.
A tremor — starting deep in his core, spreading outward through every nerve, every muscle, every cell.
His breath caught.
His heart began pounding — fast, erratic, like a caged animal trying to escape.
Then came the nausea.
Wave after wave of it, churning in his stomach, rising to his throat.
And beneath it all...
Fear.
Raw. Primal. Irrational.
Faris's eyes widened.
What... what is this?
The tremor intensified. His hands shook. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
No. No, this isn't—
He'd only felt this once before.
When his father stood over him. When the Rank 6 demon's aura pressed down like the weight of a dying star.
But his father was dead.
So why—
Am I... afraid?
The thought was absurd.
Ridiculous.
He was a demon. Fear was a tool, not a state of being. Something you inflicted, not something you felt.
Yet here he was.
Shaking.
Nauseous.
Terrified.
This body...
He clenched his fists, tried to force the sensation down.
But it wouldn't stop.
The trembling continued. The nausea persisted. The fear gripped him.
"Fray?"
Sen's voice.
Close.
Faris looked up.
Sen stood before him, concern etched on his face.
"Hey. It's okay. We're safe now. The danger's passed."
Yara approached from the other side.
"We'll face stronger things ahead." Her voice was gentle. "But you need to pull yourself together."
Faris stared at them.
Humans.
Commoners.
Pitying him. Comforting him. Looking at him with sympathy.
The humiliation was worse than the fear.
Worse than anything his father had ever done.
Because this was real.
Not an act. Not strategy.
He genuinely needed their reassurance.
His human body had betrayed him.
Made him weak.
Made him... one of them.
He swallowed hard, forced words out:
"Y-yes. Thank you."
Not stuttered for effect this time.
But because his voice actually shook.
True embarrassment flooded through him.
Sen clapped his shoulder. "That's the spirit."
Yara smiled softly. "Come on. Let's keep moving."
They began walking again.
Yara suggested: "Let's move horizontally this time. Maybe we'll find water. Or more food."
Sen agreed immediately.
Faris said nothing.
He walked behind them, trying to regain control of his body, his breathing, his self.
This body is affecting me.
Not just physically.
But mentally. Emotionally.
The human fear response. The human survival instincts.
They're... seeping into my mind.
The realization was disturbing.
He'd thought the soul dominated the flesh.
But what if it was more complicated than that?
What if the flesh could corrupt the soul?
Fray's emotions. His memories. His weaknesses.
Are they becoming... mine?
He clenched his jaw.
No.
I'm still me. Still Faris. Still—
But the tremor hadn't fully stopped.
And part of him — a small, unwelcome part — was grateful that Sen and Yara had comforted him.
Pathetic.
Ahead, Sen and Yara walked side by side, talking quietly.
Faris observed them with cold calculation.
They didn't hesitate.
When the tree attacked, they ran.
Left me standing there.
Didn't even look back.
He didn't blame them.
In their position, he would've done the same.
Survival first. Loyalty second.
But it meant something important:
I can't fully trust them.
If danger comes again... they'll abandon me.
I need stronger allies.
Or...
He glanced at their backs.
I need to make myself indispensable.
Twenty minutes later, they stopped.
Sen raised his hand — silent signal.
Faris and Yara crouched immediately.
Ahead, partially obscured by undergrowth...
A creature.
It resembled a squirrel — vaguely.
But wrong.
Massive. Easily the size of a large dog. Thick, matted fur covering a body that was far too muscular. Arms and legs like coiled steel. Long, sharp teeth jutting from its mouth, too big to fit inside, stained dark.
And before it...
A dead bird. Some kind of avian creature, half-eaten.
The squirrel-beast tore into the carcass with methodical efficiency.
Sen whispered: "What is that?"
Yara's eyes narrowed. "Mutated squirrel, maybe. Enhanced by the Asir Realm's mana."
Faris studied it carefully.
Does it have a core?
Beast cores are rare. One in a thousand, maybe.
But if it does...
An ability. A new power.
Even if the ability was just enhanced strength and ugly muscle growth...
Power is power.
He turned to Yara, deliberately lowering his gaze — not to her eyes, but slightly below — then quickly raised his eyes back up with feigned shyness.
"Use your ability. Bind it. Sen finishes it with his sword."
Yara looked at him.
A small smile touched her lips.
"Alright."
Seconds later, Faris watched as five nearly-invisible mana threads extended from Yara's fingertips.
They moved like living things — coiling around trees, slipping through grass, approaching the beast from behind.
Silent.
Precise.
The threads reached the creature's neck—
Snapped tight.
The squirrel-beast shrieked — a horrible, guttural sound — and thrashed violently, claws tearing at the threads.
But Yara held firm.
Sen moved.
Drew his silver dagger.
Activated Power Pulse.
Golden light surged through his body — muscles bulging, veins glowing.
He launched forward, impossibly fast.
Swung the dagger in a clean arc—
The beast's head separated from its body.
Flew through the air.
Hit the ground with a wet thud.
The body collapsed, twitching once, then still.
Faris approached, nodding approvingly.
"Nice strike."
Yara smiled at Sen.
Sen checked his beacon.
POINTS: 2
His grin widened. "Two points!"
Yara checked hers.
POINTS: 2
She nodded, satisfied.
Faris looked at his own beacon.
POINTS: 0
Of course. I didn't contribute to the kill.
He said nothing.
Sen knelt beside the corpse, began skinning it carefully.
"Since I killed it, I'll check for the core."
He worked methodically, cutting through muscle and bone, reaching the chest cavity, pulling out the heart—
No glow. No crystalline structure.
Just meat.
Sen sighed. "No core. Figures."
Faris watched silently.
Even if there was one... would I take it?
The creature was muscular. Strong. But grotesque.
If I absorbed its ability, would I become like that?
Bulging. Deformed. Ugly.
He paused.
...Since when do I care about appearance?
I'm a demon. Power is all that matters.
So why am I hesitating?
He pressed his hands to his face, frustrated.
Damn it.
Is Fray's vanity seeping into me too?
He forced the thought away.
Focus on survival. Worry about identity later.
While Sen finished skinning the beast, Yara knelt beside him to examine the meat.
Faris scanned their surroundings, instincts sharp despite his earlier weakness.
Then he froze.
Someone was watching.
His eyes snapped upward.
High in a nearby tree, perched on a thick branch...
A woman.
Beautiful. Strikingly so.
Fiery red hair tied back. Piercing blue eyes. Pale skin that seemed to glow faintly in the dim forest light.
She wore black combat clothing — practical, covering her from neck to ankles, revealing nothing but her face and hands.
And in her grip...
An axe.
Massive. Taller than she was. Its blade edges gleamed gold. Ornate engravings ran along the handle.
She leaned on it casually, as if the enormous weapon weighed nothing.
Faris stared for two full seconds before catching himself.
"Watch out."
Sen and Yara turned immediately.
Saw her.
Sen's eyes widened — clearly struck by her beauty.
Yara's expression shifted — a flash of irritation crossing her face as she noticed Sen's reaction, then looked at Faris to see where his attention was.
Their eyes met briefly before Yara turned back to the woman.
The woman dropped from the branch.
A twelve-meter fall.
Landed effortlessly, knees barely bending, no sign of strain.
She straightened, looked directly at them.
Her voice was melodic, gentle:
"That bird was ours."
Faris's mind raced.
The bird the squirrel was eating?
She hunted it?
Then why didn't she retrieve it?
He spoke calmly — a calmness that seemed to surprise even Sen and Yara:
"You can have both creatures."
Yara started to protest: "The squirrel is—"
Faris cut her off gently but firmly:
"No. The bird was bait. She used it to lure the squirrel. We simply killed what she'd already trapped."
Probably not true. But it sounds reasonable.
The woman opened her mouth to respond—
Then stopped.
Looked past Faris.
Her expression softened.
Faris felt a hand on his shoulder.
He reacted instantly.
Lunged forward, spun, dropped into a defensive stance—
A young man stood there.
Handsome. Red hair like the woman's. Bright green eyes. Practical combat clothes. Sword sheathed at his waist.
Smiling.
"Well done." His voice was smooth, amused. "In a situation where resources are scarce, you thought logically instead of fighting desperately."
Faris's heart was still racing.
How did he get so close without me hearing?
An ability? A movement technique?
Either way...
Dangerous.
The young man stepped forward, collected both the bird and the squirrel corpse effortlessly.
Turned to leave.
Faris made a split-second decision.
Ran after them.
These two are strong. Trained. Probably nobles.
If I stay with them... I'll survive.
Maybe even find a beast core.
The young man noticed, stopped.
"Why are you following us? Is it because of the food?"
Faris met his gaze.
"Let me join you."
The young man laughed — not unkindly, but with clear amusement.
"Why would I allow that? No offense, but... you're weak."
He smiled, a sharp, testing edge to it.
"Tell you what. I'll consider it... if you eliminate your current teammates."
Silence.
Faris understood immediately.
A loyalty test.
Nobles value loyalty. Teamwork. Honor.
He wants to see if I'm the type to betray allies.
If I say yes, he'll reject me as untrustworthy.
If I say no...
Faris exhaled slowly.
"I can't do that."
The young man's smile didn't fade.
"Then... goodbye."
He turned, began walking.
Faris called after him:
"Is the squirrel meat safe to eat?!"
The young man glanced back.
"Yes."
Then disappeared into the shadows with the woman.
Faris stood there for a moment.
Should I have agreed?
Would he have actually accepted me if I betrayed them?
Or was refusing the right choice?
He didn't know.
But the opportunity was gone now.
He returned to Sen and Yara.
Sen looked concerned. "What did they want?"
Faris shrugged. "They wouldn't share any food. But they did say the squirrel's safe to eat."
"Well, that's something." Sen said, then paused. "Wait... did you just talk to those two without flinching?"
Yara nodded slowly. "I noticed that too. You were... completely calm."
Faris blinked.
Right. I need to address this.
He was silent for a moment, then spoke carefully:
"I suppose I was."
Sen frowned. "How? Yara and I were terrified. Those two radiated power. But you just... talked to them like it was nothing."
Yara's eyes narrowed slightly, studying him.
They're getting suspicious.
I need to give them something.
A story. An explanation.
Something that makes me relatable. Trustworthy.
What would work?
He thought quickly, sifting through Fray's memories.
The attack. The dead parents. The trauma.
I can use that.
Twist it. Make it my own.
A story about fear. About loss. About learning to stay calm under pressure.
He looked down at his hands.
Took a breath.
Then began speaking — slowly, as if the words were difficult:
"When I was younger... half-demons attacked my school."
Sen and Yara's expressions shifted immediately — shock, sympathy flooding their faces.
Faris continued, keeping his voice steady but quiet:
"It was during class. We heard screaming outside. Then... they broke through the doors."
He paused, as if remembering.
"They killed everyone. Teachers tried to fight back. Students tried to run. But there was nowhere to go."
Yara's hand moved to her mouth.
"I was hiding in a supply closet with my older brother. He... he tried to keep me quiet. Covered my mouth. Held me tight."
Faris's voice dropped lower.
"But I heard everything. The screams. The... the sounds."
He closed his eyes briefly.
"Then one of them found us. Kicked the door open. My brother pushed me behind him. Told me to close my eyes."
"But I didn't."
"I watched as the half-demon... killed him. Right in front of me."
Silence.
Heavy. Oppressive.
Sen looked horrified.
Yara's eyes were wet.
Faris continued — and this part, he hadn't planned:
"The half-demon looked at me afterward. Smiled. And said: 'This is your fault. He died because you made noise. Because you were weak.'"
His voice cracked slightly.
Not intentional.
But...
Real.
Because as he spoke, Fray's actual memories surfaced.
His real father — killed instantly, head exploding.
His real mother — screaming, being dragged away.
Himself — hiding in a closet, watching, unable to move, unable to help.
And the guilt.
The crushing, suffocating guilt.
My fault.
I couldn't save them.
I was too weak.
The emotions weren't his.
They were Fray's.
But in this moment, speaking the fabricated story...
They felt real.
A wave of genuine grief washed over him.
Unexpected.
Unwanted.
But undeniable.
His throat tightened.
His eyes stung.
Damn it.
I'm... actually feeling this.
He forced the words out:
"So I made a promise. That I would never let fear control me again. That I would stay calm. Always. No matter what."
He looked up at Sen and Yara.
"That's why I can talk to people like that. Because I've already seen the worst thing I could see."
"Nothing scares me anymore."
Lie.
Everything scares me now.
This body. These emotions. This weakness.
But they don't need to know that.
Yara stepped forward.
Hugged him.
Faris froze — genuinely surprised.
She whispered: "You're braver than I thought."
Sen gripped his shoulder firmly, eyes serious.
"We've got your back, Fray. Always."
Faris nodded slowly.
Inside...
He felt hollow.
Not triumphant.
Not satisfied with successful manipulation.
Just...
Hollow.
Because part of the grief had been real.
And he hated that.
They stood in silence for a moment.
Then Faris spoke quietly:
"We should keep moving."
Sen nodded. "Yeah. Let's—"
"Wait." Faris interrupted. "I have an idea. For earning more points."
Yara tilted her head. "What kind of idea?"
Faris met their eyes.
"We kill the tree monster."
Silence.
Then—
"No." Sen said flatly. "Absolutely not."
Yara's expression hardened. "Fray, that thing almost killed us."
"We barely escaped with our lives!" Sen continued, voice rising. "You want to go back?!"
Faris kept his tone calm.
"I know it's dangerous—"
"Dangerous?!" Sen laughed — a sharp, bitter sound. "That's an understatement! That monster ate someone alive while we watched!"
Yara crossed her arms. "I'm with Sen. It's suicide."
Faris took a breath.
They're more resistant than I expected.
I need better arguments.
"Listen. I understand your fear—"
"It's not fear." Sen interrupted. "It's common sense."
"Then let me explain." Faris said firmly. "That boy you saw — the one who died. He was using an ability on us."
They paused.
"What?"
"His ability was sound manipulation. He isolated us acoustically. That's why we didn't hear anything else in the forest."
Yara frowned. "How do you know—"
"Because the moment the tree touched him, we could hear again. The ability stopped."
Faris stepped closer.
"The tree nullifies abilities on contact. That's its first power."
Sen shook his head. "Even if that's true—"
"And when it looked at us, we froze. Couldn't move. But when it looked away, we could run. That's its second power: paralysis through eye contact."
He met their eyes.
"We know its weaknesses now. We can exploit them."
"How?!" Yara demanded. "It's still stronger than us!"
"Is it?" Faris challenged. "Or did we just not understand how to fight it?"
Silence.
"Think about it." Faris continued. "The tree's power is passive. It doesn't attack actively. It waits. Freezes prey with its gaze. Then feeds."
"But if we blind it..."
Yara's eyes widened slightly.
"...it can't freeze us."
Faris nodded.
"Yara. Your mana threads. Can you wrap them around the tree's hand? Press it against the tree's own face? Cover its eyes?"
She hesitated.
"I... I think so. But—"
"And Sen. If the tree can't see you. Can't freeze you. Can you strike it with full power?"
Sen looked torn.
"Maybe. But what if it doesn't work? What if—"
"Then we run." Faris said simply. "Your beacons work instantly. If it fails, we retreat. We lose nothing."
"Except our lives!" Sen shot back.
Faris shook his head.
"No. Because we'll be smart. Cautious. The moment something goes wrong, we evacuate."
He paused.
"But if it works..."
He let the implication hang.
Yara spoke slowly: "How many points do you think it's worth?"
"More than a squirrel." Faris said. "Maybe five. Maybe ten."
Sen's expression flickered.
He's tempted.
Faris pressed:
"We're at two points each. Most examinees are probably at zero or one. The nobles are probably already at ten or more."
He let that sink in.
"Every hour we wait, the gap widens. The strong get stronger. The weak fall behind."
"Do you want to just survive this exam? Or do you want to succeed?"
Long silence.
Sen and Yara exchanged glances.
Finally, Yara spoke:
"If we do this... we do it your way. Exactly as you planned. No improvisation."
Faris nodded. "Agreed."
Sen exhaled heavily.
"Fine. FINE. But if this goes wrong—"
"It won't." Faris said.
It might.
But they don't need to know that.
As they walked, Sen spoke up:
"Those two we met earlier. Do you know who they were?"
Faris shook his head.
"The Slymeir family." Sen said, awe in his voice. "One of the nine great noble houses."
Faris's interest sharpened. "What makes them special?"
Sen's eyes lit up — clearly eager to share:
"Their ability is permanent physical enhancement. Their bodies are constantly strengthened. No activation required. Always on."
He gestured excitedly.
"They're born stronger than normal people. And as they grow, train, absorb mana... their strength multiplies. By adulthood, even the weakest Slymeir can break steel with their bare hands."
"The woman's axe?" Sen continued. "Probably weighs two hundred kilograms. She carried it like it was nothing."
Yara added: "And the man who snuck up on us... I didn't even feel his presence until he touched you."
Sen nodded vigorously. "Exactly! Their training is legendary. Combat from age five. Survival training in the harshest environments. They're... they're basically born warriors."
He looked at Faris incredulously.
"How do you not know about the Slymeirs? Do you live in a cave or something?!"
Faris shrugged. "I've... been isolated. Focused on surviving."
Sen shook his head. "Unbelievable. The Slymeirs are famous across the entire Southern Continent. Songs are written about them. Their family motto is carved into every major Origin building."
"What's the motto?" Faris asked.
Sen's voice turned reverent:
"'Strength Protects. Weakness Perishes.'"
Silence.
Then Yara added quietly:
"They also have the highest casualty rate during the Origin entrance exam. Because they never retreat. Even when they should."
Faris filed that information away.
Pride. Arrogance. Refusal to show weakness.
That could be useful.
After an hour of careful navigation through the darkening forest, they arrived.
The site where the tree had killed the boy.
But now...
It was different.
Blood.
Everywhere.
Dark, thick pools of it. Splattered on tree trunks. Soaking into the earth.
And scattered throughout...
Torn clothing. Scraps of fabric. A boot. A belt.
But no bodies.
No bones.
No flesh.
Just... consumed.
The three crouched behind a distant tree.
Faris whispered: "The plan: I draw its attention. Yara, use your threads to grab its hand and press it over the tree's eyes. Sen, strike when it's blind."
They nodded.
Sen gripped his sword tightly.
"No mistakes."
"No mistakes." Faris agreed.
Yara's mana threads extended — five thin, nearly invisible strands, moving through the shadows like serpents.
Faris circled wide, positioning himself behind the tree.
Coated his fist in mana.
Drew back.
Struck.
His fist sank deep into the trunk.
Past the wrist.
Past the elbow.
All the way to the shoulder.
The wood inside was soft. Rotten. Hollow.
Black blood poured.
Thick. Viscous. Reeking of decay.
And from within...
A sound.
Low. Ancient. Hateful.
Inhuman.
A face began forming on the trunk.
Slowly.
Eyes opening — cold, dead, staring directly at Faris.
Mouth twisting into a grotesque snarl.
And the tree's hand—
Lashed out.
Fast.
Too fast.
Faris yanked his arm free, stumbled backward—
"NOW!"
Yara's threads shot forward.
Wrapped around the tree's massive hand.
Slammed it against the tree's own face.
The wooden palm covered both eyes completely.
The tree shrieked — that awful grinding-metal sound.
Its body thrashed.
Branches whipped wildly.
But it couldn't see.
Sen charged.
Power Pulse activated.
Golden light exploded through his muscles.
Raised his sword high—
Swung.
The blade bit into the trunk.
Deep.
But not through.
The tree convulsed.
Tried to tear its own hand away from its face.
"AGAIN!" Faris shouted.
Sen wrenched the blade free.
Swung a second time—
The trunk severed.
The upper half toppled backward.
BOOM.
Hit the ground.
Dust rose.
Silence.
Sen stood there, gasping.
Yara released her threads, stumbled slightly.
Faris approached the fallen tree.
Knelt beside it.
The face was frozen in death.
Eyes still covered by its own hand.
He smiled faintly.
"Well done."
Beep.
Sen looked at his beacon.
POINTS: 12
His eyes went wide.
"Twelve... TWELVE POINTS?!"
He looked at Yara in disbelief.
Yara checked hers:
POINTS: 12
She exhaled slowly. "Ten points for one monster..."
Faris checked his own:
POINTS: 10
Fair enough.
He stood, dusted off his hands.
"Should we check for a beast core?"
Sen nodded, still in shock.
They spent fifteen minutes carefully dissecting the tree's core.
Found nothing.
No crystalline heart.
Just wood and black blood.
Sen sighed. "No core. But... ten points is still incredible."
Yara looked at Faris.
"What now? Do we go deeper? Or stay in this zone?"
Faris considered.
"We stay horizontal. Hunt more monsters and examinees in this area. Going deeper is too risky right now."
Sen agreed immediately. "Yeah. Let's not push our luck."
Yara nodded.
"Then let's keep moving."
They turned, began walking parallel to the forest edge.
And as they walked...
Faris thought:
Twelve points for them. Ten for me.
Still behind.
But climbing.
He smiled faintly.
One step at a time.