When the search and rescue team from the Navy returned, this was the sight they witnessed.
Loya was sitting in the center, surrounded by recruits huddled in groups, shivering and clinging to one another for warmth. Meanwhile, Loya was happily munching on the dry food he had collected. Behind him stood a large tree made entirely of ice. Frozen at the ends of its claw-like branches, recruits dangled from the tree, shivering as they clinked together, making a crisp jingling sound when the wind blew.
"Loya!"
Without hesitation, Vice Admiral Mole charged forward with a roar. Hearing the shout, Loya barely had time to turn around before the Mole tackled him from behind.
"It's disgraceful to use the Navy's Six Powers like this!"
Loya rolled over, quickly got back on his feet, and, unfazed, continued nibbling on the dry food. Mole's face twitched with irritation but, after a moment, he decided against further reprimanding him and instead ordered his men to rescue the recruits hanging from the ice tree.
Watching the scene from a window on the warship, Zefa sighed in frustration.
"Kuzan, tell me, if we resume the assessment tomorrow, should we just disqualify him?"
"Oh? Sensei, do you want to let Loya pass automatically? Aren't you worried the other recruits will have complaints?" Kuzan replied without even lifting his head, leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head.
"I doubt that'll be a problem… the chances of complaints are slim," Zefa replied with another sigh. He scanned the beach, where Loya had single-handedly overpowered more than half the recruits without breaking a sweat. The quality of this year's recruits, Zefa thought, was depressingly low.
Kuzan had no further input and simply rolled over to continue his nap. "You decide… The elite training camp is your domain, after all."
Zefa's eyes suddenly gleamed with an idea. A mischievous grin spread across his face, and he burst into laughter. "Heh heh, I just thought of something brilliant."
---
The rescue operation concluded, and a report was given to Zefa.
The good news was that, despite the beast stampede, no one had died. Everyone was brought back alive. The bad news, however, was that several recruits had been severely injured and would be unable to participate in the assessment resuming the next day, leading to their automatic elimination.
Unfortunately, this was inevitable. Even with patrol teams present on the island beforehand and the generals responding as swiftly as possible, it was impossible to save everyone immediately. On a medium-sized island like this, there were bound to be casualties. Some recruits had broken their legs in the stampede, others were knocked unconscious during combat, and one unfortunate soul fell into a quagmire and was fatally bitten by a creature lurking within.
Even so, Loya was adamant: he wasn't taking any blame for what had happened.
Standing on the deck, Zefa surveyed the recruits now lined up neatly on the beach. In front of the formation stood several vice admirals and the instructors, all looking serious.
The scene grew quiet. Zefa cleared his throat and addressed the crowd, "I think everyone is aware that, due to unforeseen circumstances, today's assessment had to be suspended. But! That does not mean the assessment is over! Starting tomorrow, it will resume. The duration remains three days, and the rules are unchanged. Understood?"
The recruits responded loudly and in unison, "Understood!"
"Good!" Zefa nodded approvingly. At least their fighting spirit seemed intact.
After a moment's pause, he continued, "Now, after much deliberation, I've come to a decision! Team Seven's Christopher Loya!"
"Present!" Loya answered.
"Step forward!"
"...Yes, sir," Loya replied, scratching his face nervously as he stepped out of the lineup. A chill ran down his spine. Something about this felt ominous. Why did he have a bad feeling about what was coming next?