The fourth morning in the Whitewood dawned cold and muted. The wind whispered low, too quiet for a place so deep in the wild.
Adam tightened his cloak and stood in formation beside Zhao, watching the thin lines of smoke rise from their dying campfires. All around them, the group stirred slowly, their movements less energetic than the day before. Something had changed.
No one said it, but everyone felt it.
Even Lin Yao's expression had shifted. She stood at the front with the Tier Two martial artists, eyes sharp and posture stiff, scanning the woods more often than before. She barely acknowledged Adam when their eyes met.
It wasn't cold that tensed their nerves—it was the silence of the forest. No birds. No animals. Just the crunch of snow and breath made visible in the morning frost.
They broke camp quickly. Lin Kuan spoke little, his gaze turning often toward the deeper woods. His face was unreadable, but his grip on his blade was tighter than before.
As they moved, Adam leaned toward Zhao. "Feels different today."
Zhao nodded once. "Too quiet."
---
It happened before noon.
A Tier Two martial artist, one of the younger ones who had just broke through, was sent to scout ahead along with an instructor. It was standard procedure. They didn't go far from the group and even if they met a beast, they could retreat immediately or shout for help if they can't.
But something went wrong
The group waiting for thei return suddenly heard a scream.
By the time they reached the spot, the instructor was kneeling by the fallen body, his blade red, breathing heavily. The youth was dead—his chest torn open, eyes wide in shock. But there were no footprints. No signs of a struggle. Nothing but blood and disturbed snow.
Not even a broken branch.
Zhao swore under his breath. Lin Yao's face hardened.
But Lin Kuan… he didn't move at first. He crouched beside the corpse, touching the snow with gloved fingers. Then, slowly, he stood.
He looked toward the forest's edge, far from the trail they were following. His gaze lingered on the gap between the trees for a bit too long for it to be just a casual look.
"From now on," he said, voice flat but cold, "no one moves alone. No exceptions. We stay in formation. If someone wanders, you pull them back. If someone falls behind, you stop the entire unit."
He didn't shout. But no one argued.
Adam watched the instructors exchange silent looks.
The death hadn't been random. Something—or someone—had planned it.
---
The day pressed on.
The party traveled tighter now, flanked closely by instructors. The Tier Two group moved at a steady pace ahead, while Adam's Tier Three group remained in the middle. Adam stayed close to Zhao, every sense on edge.
Then, late in the afternoon, they found signs of a beast.
Its tracks were deep, wide, and heavy. They were pressed into the snow with a dragging gait that suggested awkward movement. The stride was long, but uneven, as if the creature hadn't yet adapted to its own weight.
Instructor Lin knelt beside the trail, brushing snow aside with a gloved hand. He closed his eyes briefly, exhaling through his nose.
"There's residual dark matter in the snow," he murmured, almost to himself. "Both unstable and raw. It broke through recently."
He rose, glancing toward the trees ahead.
"A fresh Tier Three beast."
One of the instructors stepped closer and examined a claw mark etched into a nearby tree, the bark torn clean in a wide arc.
"A ridgeback boar," he said grimly. "Big one, from the depth of the gouge. They get erratic after breaking through — territorial and unpredictable."
Zhao muttered under his breath, "Great. A rampaging slab of meat with armor plates."
It wasn't his first time in the hunting party so he knew what's coming next.
And as expected, Lin Kuan gave a sharp nod. "Tier Three unit—handle it."
Adam blinked. "We're hunting it?"
"It's our trial," Zhao muttered. "Let's go."
The instructors set a perimeter and directed the group forward. The tracks led them to a rocky outcrop beside a half-frozen stream.
There, beneath the shadow of a snow-covered ridge, loomed the ridgeback boar.
It was massive, easily the size of a full-grown bull, with a squat, muscular frame layered in coarse gray fur. Jagged plates of bone jutted from its shoulders and spine, forming a crude natural armor that glinted faintly in the pale light. Its breath fogged the cold air in bursts, snorting heavily as it scraped at the snow with one hoof.
The boar turned its blocky head slowly, small black eyes locking onto them.
Then, with a sudden bellow, it charged—snow spraying in all directions.
Adam reacted instinctively, sidestepping as the beast barreled past. It was fast for its size, but wild. Its momentum carried too far, and its hooves tore through the ground with reckless force. Power surged through its body, but the movement lacked precision—it hadn't yet grown used to its strength.
The Tier Three martial artists responded without hesitation. One moved to the left, slashing low to test its flank, while another hurled a short spear at its armored shoulder to divert its charge. Zhao darted in from behind and raked his blade across the beast's rear leg, drawing a spray of blood and a furious squeal.
Adam flanked right, eyes sharp.
The boar reared up on its hind legs and slammed down with a crack of frozen earth, narrowly missing one of them. Another struck its spine from behind, only to have their blade glance off the ridged bone plating.
But the hit staggered it just enough.
As the boar twisted in pain, its neck exposed briefly past the bony shoulder guard. Adam seized the moment.
He lunged in from the side, blade flashing.
With a cry, he drove the sword deep into the soft tissue beneath the beast's thick jaw and twisted. The ridgeback shrieked and bucked, spraying blood in the snow.
Then it collapsed, crashing into the frozen ground with a force that rattled through Adam's bones.
Silence followed.
The ridgeback boar collapsed, crashing into the frozen ground with a force that rattled through Adam's bones. Steam rose from its bloodied body, curling into the cold air as silence fell over the clearing.
Adam stepped back, breathing hard, sword slick with blood. Around him, the other trainees were already regrouping, murmuring in quiet triumph.
But something tugged at him.
The cold in his chest stirred, the same sensation he had felt once before.
He hesitated, glanced around, then slowly stepped closer to the boar's corpse. Its hide still radiated heat, and the steam clung to its bulk like smoke.
He crouched, resting his palm lightly against the creature's flank.
Immediately, he felt it.
The darkness.
It leaked from the corpse like oil through cloth—slow, heavy, and deliberate. It wasn't visible to the others, but Adam could feel it clearly, seeping into his arm and curling down into his chest. It merged with the lingering residue from the wolf—the cold pressure deep in his ribs growing heavier, thicker.
His breath caught.
He pulled his hand away as the last tendril faded into him.
When he looked around, no one was watching.
No one had seen.
He stood, wiping his blade on the snow, then turned back toward the others—expression calm, though his chest churned with quiet unease.
Something inside him was growing.
And he was the only one who could feel it.
---
They had barely regrouped when an instructor returned from a nearby ridge with a grim expression.
"Wolves," he said. "A whole pack is close by."
Lin Kuan stepped forward, eyes narrowing. "Tier Threes?"
"Three of them. One close to breaking through to tier two."
Adam felt his stomach turn.
Zhao grinned grimly. "Well. Here's our graduation test."
Lin Kuan's orders were crisp.
"Tier Twos, you'll handle the three leaders. Tier Threes—tier threes kill the rest of the pack. Move quickly and don't let yourselves get surrounded."
The forest shifted.
Howls rang out through the trees as the wolves approached—white-furred, eyes gleaming, their breath fogging the air. They were different from the wolf Adam killed previously on the mountain.
There were at least a dozen normal wolves alongside the three towering beasts that stalked behind.
Then chaos broke loose.
The Tier Twos charged the largest wolves with coordinated strikes—Lin Yao at the lead, her movements swift and fluid. The largest wolf met her head-on, and Adam saw their as they clash mid-leap.
Meanwhile, Adam and the others rushed the pack.
These wolves were fast, but lacked the brute strength of the leaders. With practiced teamwork, the Tier Threes brought them down one after another. They were stronger than normal wolf but still quite a distance from tier three.
And with each one Adam killed—he absorbed more of that black mist.
It came in waves now. Each wolf spilled a small amount, but cumulatively, it swelled. The pressure in his chest grew denser, heavier. It wasn't just energy—it was something more primal.
He moved like a machine, each kill precise.
Slash. Step. Inhale darkness.
He barely noticed when the last normal wolf fell.
The battlefield cleared around them, the bodies steaming in the snow.
Adam exhaled.
Then Lin Yao let out a sharp whistle.
One of the Tier Three wolves lay dead, its throat slit. The second was surrounded by three Tier Two and bleeding heavily. The third—the largest—had a deep wound across its flank but still stood tall, snarling and circling.
"Assist!" barked Instructor Lin.
The Tier Three group surged forward.
The beast turned and lunged toward Zhao, who rolled aside as Adam struck from the right. His blade carved along its ribs as another trainee stabbed its leg. Lin Yao moved in like a flash and drove her sword through its jaw.
The wolf fell, dead.
Silence settled over the snowy field.
A few of the younger trainees let out ragged cheers. Others laughed nervously. For a brief moment, tension gave way to pride of their clean victory.
Adam looked down at the steaming corpse of the last wolf.
No mist rose because he hadn't killed it.
Only the ones he slew fed that strange darkness.
He stared down at his own hands.
How much had he absorbed now?
He didn't know.
---
While the others were focused on their victory, Lin Kuan turned his head abruptly.
He looked not toward the battlefield, but toward the distant north.
Toward Bai Village.
His eyes narrowed.
Then he turned again. Eastward.
Toward the peaks of the Harthian Mountains—jagged and black against the grey sky.
"Everyone quiet!!" he said suddenl with the loudest voice since the beginning of their expeditio.
The group obeyed, startled.
He stood still for a full minute.
Then: "Drop the corpses. Leave the excess. Pack only what you need."
He turned, voice cold and clear.
"We return to the village immediately."
"What's—" someone began.
"No questions. We set off, NOW!"
His tone allowed no argument.
And just like that, the joy of victory bled away.
Something was wrong.
And whatever it was… it was coming fast.