The forest, for all its dangers, had moments of stillness—moments like this.
Zeke wasn't escaping from a monster anymore.
He walked instead, his breaths steady, the soil soft beneath his boots. The morning mist still clung to the forest floor, thin beams of light cutting through the canopy above. For the first time in what felt like days, maybe weeks, he had a chance to actually see the forest.
It was beautiful.
The trees here were ancient, their bark engraved with delicate moss-like etchings that resembled rune patterns. Little lights floated lazily through the air—luminescent orbs the size of butterflies. They shimmered in hues of soft green and blue, glowing gently like candle flames swaying with an invisible breeze. Zeke paused, eyes wide, as one of them floated by his shoulder.
"What are those..." Darius whispered.
Mira's voice was soft with wonder. "I've read about these in my family's library."
The group paused reaching slowly toward one of the floating lights. "They're low-level elemental spirits. Not intelligent, not quite like the beasts we've been seeing either—something in between. They respond to mana and if you make a contract with one, even emotion."
Zeke reached out as one of the orbs hovered near him. It twitched, then spun in a delighted loop, making a sound like a child's giggle carried on the wind. A pure, innocent laugh, untouched by the evils of this world. When was the last time he laughed like this? Did he ever?
The contrast was startling. Just hours ago they'd been running from monsters, fighting for breath, surrounded by death.
Now? They were standing in a clearing full of floating lights, their soft glow painting streaks of color across the leaves.
"They seem kind of... happy," Darius murmured.
Zeke looked over to see the big shield-bearer trying to hold one, a sight he found quite funny.
Mira nodded. "Some of them can grow stronger. If they absorb enough mana, they ascend into a higher spirit, one would think they would be called high spirits but there's too much distinction between different higher, they develop different levels of intelligence and powers. But... most of this batch won't survive. Maybe ten out of every hundred make it, the rest turn back into mana."
Zeke stared at the small spirit now swirling above his hand. A soft melancholy gripped him.
"I'll bring my siblings here one day," he said, more to himself than anyone else. "When I'm strong enough... they deserve to see this."
Then he exhaled, straightening. "Alright. We should keep moving."
No one argued. The group nodded, following him once more into the shifting, green-shadowed depths of the forest.
The next two days blurred together like a fever dream.
They saw things that none of them would forget—moss-covered ruins with crumbling pillars, strange beasts that fled at the sight of humans, rivers of translucent water that shimmered with residual mana. The wild lands were like a world unto themselves and with every step, their understanding of that world grew broader.
Along the way, more people joined them.
One.
Two.
Sometimes five or six. Most were exhausted, bloodied, and barely holding together. Seeing Zeke's group—organized, healthy, led with clear intent—made them attach themselves like moths to a flame.
They didn't realize it at first.
But eventually, the group numbered forty.
Most of the names Zeke forgot. Although he remembered Liana, a quiet girl with sharp eyes who could pin a rabbit through the eye from two hundred meters away. And there was Bronn—a hulking boy with cracked knuckles and a crooked grin, who fought with his fists, a layer of mana lining his knuckles. They stood out. Strong, reliable.
Above, high in the sky behind a veil of clouds and illusions, the professors watched.
Floating discs spun slowly in place, projecting images below.
"Is this... cheating?"
"Don't ask me," one scoffed. "It's never happened before."
"He's not breaking the rules," another pointed out. "They joined him of their own free will."
"Still," a fourth muttered, stroking his chin. "A kid building a faction in the middle of a survival trial... it's impressive."
A deeper voice, calm and firm, silenced the murmurs.
"Let it be."
The others turned to look.
The Headmaster had spoken.
Back in the forest, the group pressed forward.
Each time they encountered a Hollow, Zeke would charge in like a madman, his blade dancing. His recklessness earned groans from Darius and awe from others but no one could deny the results. He was fast, precise, and growing sharper with every fight.
In battle, he cracked jokes like, "You call that scary? You haven't seen my little sister in a bad mood!"
It made people laugh. It kept the darkness at bay.
And somewhere along the way, though no one said it out loud, Zeke had become their leader.
On the third day, it happened.
A whistling noise ripped through the air—unnatural and furious.
Zeke's eyes snapped up.
A massive tree, torn from its roots, spun toward them like a projectile.
"DOWN!" he roared, stepping forward as he drew his blade. His breath slowed. His stance tightened. Everything he had learned over the past two days focused into one perfect moment.
He swung his sword upward.
Silence.
Then—crack—CRACK—the tree splintered cleanly in mid-air, fragments tumbling harmlessly to the ground.
The group behind him stared in disbelief.
Martin, one of Darius's group let out a low whistle. " That's new."
Zeke didn't look back.
He sheathed his blade. "Let's go. That came from somewhere close. Students must be in a fight."
They moved quickly.
Any hesitation was gone. Seeing Zeke at the front, running, not at full speed but just enough so that they could keep up, they pushed harder than ever.
The fight came into view not long after.
A clearing opened ahead, the sound of clashing steel and howling beasts echoing out.
Zeke's eyes narrowed.
Rian.
He was alive, fighting alongside Kaito and a handful of others—nine in total, all in terrible shape, holding a defensive position against a group of malformed Hollows. Rian's hands moved in a wild and sharp manner, wind bursts, knocking beasts back trying to give the others a chance to make a critical hit.
Zeke exhaled in relief.
But then his gaze fell on Kaito.
Pale face. Trembling shoulders. And blood—so much blood.
His right hand was gone.
A Hollow lunged at him, jaws wide.
Zeke's eyes went red.
No.
No no no—
His heart thundered.
Calm down. Getting angry won't help.
In an act of desperate distraction, he shouted.
"Hey, you crazy bastards—why are you letting yourselves be killed?!"
Rian's head snapped toward the voice. Hope flared in his expression.
The monster spun around to face the voice.
Kaito's eyes widened.
And Zeke, blade drawn, let out a wild roar.
"ATTACK!!!!"