The dense canopy above blocked out the sun's dying rays, casting an eerie gloom over the forest floor. Our feet sank into the damp earth with each step, sending up a musty scent that mixed with the rotting wood of fallen trees. Every now and then, a twig snapped underfoot, breaking the heavy silence that weighed on our shoulders. It felt like we were trespassing in a forbidden realm as we pressed on, disturbing the peace of this ancient woodland.
Branches overhead twisted like skeletal arms, and the deeper we went, the colder the air seemed to become. My muscles burned, but I kept my eyes forward, refusing to give in to the fatigue weighing on my shoulders. Around me, the others were panting, faces pale with exhaustion. Rylan, always restless, edged closer to me, his voice a breath in the thick silence.
"Think we're getting close?" he muttered, barely moving his lips. "We've been walking for—"
Before he could finish, the line stopped dead. Rylan, lost in his words, crashed into the kid in front of him. The boy stumbled forward, barely keeping his balance, and spun around, glaring at Rylan. For a split second, a scuffle seemed inevitable, but then a shadow loomed.
A figure strode toward us with a sharp, menacing precision. The Captain. His eyes, cold and fierce, flicked over us like a blade. Without warning, his voice cut through the air, low and dangerous.
"Who spoke just now?" he demanded, his tone sharp enough to silence the forest itself. His gaze swept the ranks, settling on no one in particular but everyone all at once.
The tension snapped through the air, and no one dared move. The Captain's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched tighter. "I'll ask again," he said, his voice colder this time, "Who. Spoke?"
Silence.
His lips curled into a grim line, and he stepped forward, towering over us. "Alright then," he said, his voice deadly quiet. "I'll make this simple. You've got ten seconds. If the one who spoke doesn't come forward, you'll be running the rest of the way instead of walking."
The forest seemed to hold its breath, waiting, as the weight of his words hung over us like a noose. My heart pounded in my chest, my muscles tensed, ready for what was coming next.
Rylan shifted beside me, guilt written across his face. He opened his mouth, about to step forward, but before he could move, I caught Lyra's gaze. Her eyes pleaded silently, desperate for me to do something. I felt a weight in my chest, knowing what needed to be done.
Before Rylan could take that step, I raised my hand and spoke, my voice steady despite the knot tightening in my gut. "It was me," I said.
The Captain turned, his eyes locking onto mine. He marched over, his boots sinking heavily into the earth with each step, the air thick with tension. "So, you're the one who doesn't know how to follow instructions," he said, his voice dripping with stern authority. "What's your name?"
"Lucan," I said, standing straighter. "Lucan Stone."
He looked me up and down, sizing me up. "Lucan Stone," he repeated, his voice flat and cold. "Let this be a lesson to the rest of you," he barked, his voice rising so that everyone could hear. "This isn't a game. If you can't follow simple orders, you're as good as dead out there. Lucan here seems to think he can do whatever he wants, so from now on, he'll be finding his own way."
Rylan and Lyra tensed beside me, their bodies shifting with the urge to act. I caught their eyes, a small, sharp signal telling them to stay put, to not do anything stupid. They hesitated, but my look was enough. They stayed still.
The Captain, noticing nothing, motioned to one of the knights. The man handed me a rough map, the edges worn and frayed. Gideon pointed toward another path, one leading deeper into the forest, away from the others.
"Take this," he growled. "And let's see if you can survive on your own. The rest of you, move out! And if I hear another word, you'll be joining him!"
With that, the knights pushed the group forward, leaving me standing alone with the weight of my decision.
What they didn't realize was that this was exactly what I wanted. As the others marched away, unaware of my thoughts, a small smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth. This isolation wasn't a punishment; it was an opportunity.
In this world, every person born with the ability to manipulate mana possesses a core deep within them. The color of this core defines their affinity and role in magic. Most mages have a yellow core, a common sight, signifying their ability to harness mana for elemental spells and magical control. Those with a green core are rare, usually suited for healers and support roles, their magic naturally attuned to life forces and restoration. The red core is tied to warriors, enhancing physical prowess and combat abilities, granting immense strength in battle.
But mine... mine is different. My core isn't like the others. It's a dark, swirling red-black, something I've never seen before. I've scoured through books, spoken to anyone with knowledge, yet nothing is recorded about a core like mine. It's a mystery—a dangerous one, perhaps. While others view their cores as a source of power or identity, I can't shake the feeling that mine carries something more, something unknown.
I'd been waiting for a chance to push myself, to face something real. I had reached Mana Core Stage 4, my energy flowing stronger and more controlled than ever before. My sword skills, though still developing, were far beyond what anyone else in the Forsaken Legion knew. Semi-pro, I'd call them, but sharp enough to take on beasts most of these kids couldn't even dream of. I needed a test, a challenge worthy of my abilities—and deep down, I knew my unique mana core might hold the key to unlocking even greater power. I just hadn't discovered how… yet.
The path Gideon had pointed to led deeper into the mountains, where the monsters were said to be more dangerous, their materials rarer and more valuable. This was where I could test my power, harvest what I needed, and truly see what I was capable of.
Instead of fear, excitement stirred within me. This was my chance.
I grabbed the map and tucked it into my belt. With a deep breath, I activated my magic, feeling the familiar surge of mana course through me. My muscles tensed, and in a flash, I dashed forward, my feet barely touching the ground as I leaped from tree to tree. The wind whipped past me, and the dense canopy overhead blurred into a sea of green as I ventured deeper into the mountainous forest.
Not long into my journey, the air grew thick with fog, and the once-clear path turned into a maze of shadows and twisted branches. I slowed down, sensing the shift. This was no ordinary forest.
Drawing in mana, I channeled it into my eyes, enhancing my vision until the world around me lit up in shades of heat and movement. It was a trick I'd developed over years of hunting in the mountains. Now, with this vision, I could see through the fog, picking up even the faintest trace of warmth—hidden creatures, lurking threats.
The deeper I ventured, the more the forest seemed to come alive with danger.
I crouched low on the branch, the air thick with the damp, earthy scent of the forest. My enhanced vision cut through the fog, revealing a shadow moving below—heavy, deliberate. I narrowed my eyes, focusing on the source of the disturbance.
It stepped into view, crushing the underbrush beneath its weight. A towering beast, its fur dark and matted, rippling with raw muscle. Its massive claws raked the ground as it moved, leaving deep gouges in the earth. This wasn't just any creature—it was a Dreadclaw Ursok, one of the most feared predators in these mountains.
The air around it felt suffocating, as if the forest itself recoiled from its presence. Its breath came out in low, guttural huffs, steam rising from its nostrils in the cool air. Scarred, battle-worn, and seething with malice, the Ursok let out a low growl that vibrated through the ground.
My heart raced, but not with fear. This was it—the test I'd been waiting for.