The forest didn't sleep anymore.
It watched.
Every breeze carried whispers.
Every shadow stretched longer than it should.
And somewhere out there, something—or someone—was moving like a phantom.
---
Trial Grounds – Day 5
By now, over two-thirds of the participants were either unconscious, withdrawn, or broken in spirit.
Students trained in spell formations, elemental theory, and battlefield tactics were now gnawing on bitter moss, wild berries, and tree bark.
Without enough monsters to hunt, and zero survival training, they were failing fast.
But it wasn't just the monsters they feared.
It was him.
The one no one saw coming.
The one who didn't kill—but made you wish he had.
In a mossy hollow where ten students once camped, only two remained—curled against one another, teeth chattering.
"…Why is my mana not working anymore?" one girl muttered, voice hollow.
"Because your body's dry," said her companion weakly. "You need food to convert mana. Otherwise, your core chokes."
Their lips were cracked. Their eyes were dull.
They had never once considered what real hunger did to a mage.
In Eldryn, mages relied on a basic reserve of physical strength supported by mana circulation. That meant they needed calories—not just energy for casting, but for staying alive.
Without food?
No mana flow.
No movement.
And soon, no consciousness.
Only a handful were still functional.
And most of them were Alchemists.
Why?
Because they knew what to eat.
Mosses that replenished glucose.
Insects that had alchemical oils.
Even certain types of monster droppings could be distilled for emergency nutrients.
Dren Alchemore, despite having lost half his tools in a recent attack, was now moving like a scavenger-king through the trees, sniffing out herbs others didn't even recognize.
But Dren was nervous.
Because a few nights ago, someone had robbed him blind.
And it wasn't a monster.
By now, 30+ students had suffered the same fate.
Unconscious.
Beaten.
Stripped of food, potions, artifacts—and left crumpled in the underbrush.
Every single one of them remembered only two things:
1. A faint sound—like a twig snapping behind them.
2. A blur of motion—too fast, too quiet, too strong.
No one saw his face.
No one knew his level.
Because—there was no ring.
Mage Rings were the visual marker of strength, allowing others to sense and read a student's growth. Zane?
Didn't have one.
To the entire world—professors included—he was still a failed mage.
But he had grown. Quietly. Brutally.
---
Zane – Somewhere Deep in the Forest
> ●●● [S.A.S.S. Notification]
Mutant Howler Beast defeated. EXP +26.
Current Level: 6
Hidden Status Perks Unlocked.
Trait Evolved: Agility – Enhanced
Physical Condition: Peak-Human
Mana Flow: Stable
Zane wiped sweat from his brow, quietly chewing on dried monster jerky as he crouched behind a fallen log.
His eyes narrowed as he spotted a solo student limping with a half-filled water pouch.
"I could rob him," he muttered.
> 🔹 [S.A.S.S.]: And you could also take a nap. But no. You're built different now. Ambush the poor soul.
Zane stood silently, bones creaking. His body felt heavier, but stronger. He'd been hunting monsters relentlessly—clawing his way up the food chain, even if no one could see it.
No fire.
No talking.
No groups.
Just ambush. Kill. Eat. Vanish.
The system had even explained something horrifying last night:
> 🔹 [S.A.S.S.]: Consuming monster flesh has side effects. Some passive abilities may transfer. Weak ones. Rare chance. But it's happening.
You are no longer just human. You're survival incarnate.
Zane crouched above a tree branch as the student below stopped to drink.
He was strong—clearly a ranked student.
Muscles thick. Back covered in armor. Heavy sword on his back.
But he was hungry.
And that made him slow.
Zane dropped like a stone.
The first hit broke the boy's stance.
The second caved his leg inward.
The third knocked the sword free.
The fourth was unnecessary.
By the time the boy reacted, he was looking up at the trees as Zane disappeared with his high-grade potions.
"WHO—!?"
He howled into the woods.
"WHO THE HELL WAS THAT!?"
No answer.
Only rustling leaves.
His voice echoed across the valley.
Nearby students froze in their tracks.
"…Did you hear that?"
"Yeah. That was Brandel."
"He's strong though. Right?"
"Not anymore."
The mystery attacker had become legend.
Some called him:
The Vulture
The Trial's Ghost
The Starving Slayer
But no one guessed the truth.
Because they all assumed a high-level attacker would wear a Mage Ring.
Zane didn't.
He didn't know how to forge one.
He didn't even want one.
Why show your level… when they can't defend against it anyway?
---
Inside the Observation Tower
Back in the floating observatory, the professors were confused.
"Thirty-two confirmed assaults," Professor Lian muttered. "None fatal. No signatures left behind."
"There's no ring. No traces. Just brute speed and strength. Almost like…"
"Like a beast that learned to walk like a man," Veylan said.
"But that's impossible. Only ringed mages can grow at this rate."
Then Professor Linessa slowly turned her gaze.
"No," she said. "Not if something's outside the system. Something… or someone."
And for a moment, the tower was silent.