"Emotional, pragmatic, stupid but efficient."
These were the words of Lud echoing in Seran's earpiece.
Rising from the ground, his hands still trembling and stained with that dark blood, he heard the footsteps of his guide.
Meanwhile, he stared at what, moments earlier, had been a living body—hungry for flesh and slaughter.
Now it was a lifeless mass of muscles, lying motionless on the ground.
"For someone facing an Evox for the first time, I must admit you adapted to the situation quickly. And I almost forgot…" Lud said, with a faint smile, "the one you fought was a Tier 0 on the verge of becoming a Tier 1."
Pausing for a second to process the information, the boy finally understood why the beast had been so aggressive and reactive.
"Good, Seran. With this, we can end today's expedition."
Back at the patrol base, before separating:
"Seran, today you've shown good potential to pass the Trigger. Use the rest of the day to recover from fatigue and pain, and calm your mind—because it is your greatest weapon when properly used."
With a pat on the shoulder, the two parted ways.
Back in his small but quiet cabin, Seran threw himself into the shower without even removing his clothes.
Fear, tension, dirt, and blood were washed away by the water.
"I could have died," he said, slamming a fist against the bathroom wall, "because of a stupid dog. I almost froze again… just like that day." Another hit echoed against the wall.
"I need to improve. Be more focused. More determined."
Still burning with anger and a head filled with noise, he finally finished cleaning himself.
Dressing calmly in a clean uniform, he returned the equipment he had received that morning to the depot.
When lunchtime arrived, he entered the mess hall. His eyes scanned the room… then narrowed slightly, noticing it was less crowded than the day before.
Not everyone had made it back from their expedition. Some due to bad luck, others because they had abandoned the path entirely—a reminder that this was not an easy choice.
He took a tray, filled it with food, and began poking at it absentmindedly. His gaze stayed fixed on the meal, as if it could reveal the answers he was searching for.
Then Ludwig sat down in front of him.
"Kid, I don't know what's bothering you, but eat. You'll need energy for this afternoon's briefing," he said, calmly bringing a forkful of meat to his mouth.
"If you want to live in the present, study the past…" he swallowed, "…and act for the future."
Seran froze for a moment—but then finally began to eat.
In their usual silence, they finished lunch.
"Good. In thirty minutes, training room," Lud said.
Seran nodded, and they both left the mess hall.
Thirty-five minutes later…
"Five minutes can be the difference between life and death," Lud pointed out, arms crossed, tapping his index finger against them as he emphasized Seran's chronic lateness.
"Sit down. We'll analyze this morning's fight in detail and start preparing everything for your Trigger."
(1 hour later)
Opening another file on the interactive board, Lud continued:
"Now, the Trigger. As you already know, you will face a Tier 1. The phases are as follows:
Identification
Weakening
Killing the Evox
Core absorption
As established, the first two phases are my responsibility. The last two are yours. Remember: a weakened Tier 1 is still far more dangerous than an intact Tier 0."
Straightening his back, Seran etched those words into his mind, clenching his fists under the desk.
The final strike had to be his alone—only then would the core absorption succeed.
This rule, still unexplained by science, had cost many candidates their lives. It was also the stage where most failed.
"This is where many fall," Lud said. "What separates the many from the few."
With the file closed and the lesson over, Seran was dismissed by his guide.
He spent the rest of the day reviewing the briefing, calling his parents to reassure them, and doing a short training session with his two swords.
A new day arrived.
Seran returned to the training hall and walked straight toward Lud, who was striking a training dummy with disciplined precision.
Stopping his routine, the veteran let his weapon vanish.
Seran's eyes widened. It was the first time he had seen a Mana Ring in action—a device comparable to a portable inventory.
"If you pass your trial tomorrow, many things will be within your reach… like this ring," Lud said, turning toward him.
Still surprised, Seran asked curiously:
"Lud, what's the plan for today?"
"Morning: combat training. Afternoon: tactical preparation for tomorrow. As for me… I'll be babysitting a kid," he added dryly.
In an isolated area of the training hall, the two faced each other for hours:
A sword cutting through empty air.
A dodge that never came.
A blow taken directly to the chest.
Aggression turned into defense.
Today Lud had increased the intensity compared to the first day—preparing his candidate properly.
With time, Seran began not only to endure but to respond.
Where before he lasted 30 seconds before collapsing, now it was 45.
His imprecise strikes gradually refined their trajectory.
Where instinct once silenced thought, now the two had begun to communicate.
As hunger arrived and Lud, satisfied with Seran's progress, they ate at the mess hall.
Sharing their meal with the same calm that distinguished them from the other pairs, they prepared for the briefing and report session.
"Same area, canine species, just one Tier difference," Lud said, pointing the laser at the board.
"Only strike when you're certain. Fast footwork, and eyes always on the target," he continued.
He then pulled a ticket from his uniform and handed it to Seran.
"Same procedure. No need for me to repeat myself."
Fully focused until the end of the session, Seran absorbed every instruction from the F1 guide.
As the sun set and evening arrived, free from all lessons, Seran sought silence in his cabin.
He laid his head on the bed, and sleep took him into its arms.