The entrance to the monster zone buzzed with nervous excitement. Armor creaked, weapons clinked, and the glow of System inventory shimmered faintly as students summoned their gear for the first time. For many, this was more than just an excursion—it was the first real step toward the future they had dreamed of since childhood.
Ysaac stood with John near the back, hands shoved into his pockets, trying to look calm. In truth, his stomach was twisting. He could still hear the whispers from the test. B-class. Just B-class.
Mr. Norris raised his voice above the noise.
"Listen well! A squad can mean the difference between life and death. Don't go playing hero out there—no matter what your Seed rank is. Rank doesn't matter if you're lying in the dirt, bleeding out at level one."
He paused to let that sink in, then continued. "Form your parties through the system. Once you're linked, loot distribution will be automatic. Share your victories—and your burdens."
At that, John clapped Ysaac on the back with his usual grin.
"Okay, princess, let's party up."
Ysaac rolled his eyes, but before he could respond, a sharp, mocking voice cut through the air.
"Yeah, go ahead and form a party with the giant oaf," Adrel sneered, striding past with his little clique in tow. His eyes glittered with malice as he glanced at Ysaac. "Blinking around won't do much against real monsters. You'll probably trip over yourself before you even see the dungeon gate. Hahaha!"
A few of his friends laughed along, the sound grating in Ysaac's ears.
John's grin vanished, his fists clenching. "Hmph! Are you going solo then, big shot? No, wait—looks like you already formed a party." He jabbed a finger toward the students clustered around Adrel.
Adrel smirked, puffing his chest. "That's because I don't need dead weight dragging me down. I'm not a self-declared S-class who ended up a joke." His words struck like blades, and more than a few nearby students turned to watch.
For a heartbeat, Ysaac said nothing. His jaw tightened, his nails dug into his palms. He wanted to shout back, to prove him wrong right here and now—but Mr. Norris' earlier warning echoed in his head. Don't go playing hero out there…
John, however, took a step forward, eyes blazing. "Say that again, bastard—!"
Ysaac caught his arm before he could lunge. "John. Leave it." His voice was low, strained.
Adrel snorted, satisfied, and turned away with his party.
John looked at Ysaac, frustration written all over his face. "Why the hell do you let him talk like that?"
Ysaac forced a smirk, though it didn't reach his eyes.
"Because once we're out there, he'll see for himself. Monsters don't care about your mouth."
The system notification blinked in his vision.
> [Party Formed: Ysaac Van Risk & John Maximus Smith]
John grinned and equipped his gear, a round buckler strapped to one arm and a mace in the other—heavy, solid, built for smashing through bone and scale alike. "Heh. Perfect for bashing monsters," he said, swinging it experimentally.
Ysaac drew his weapon from his inventory. The blade gleamed faintly in the morning light, its curved edge serrated like the fang of a beast.
John's eyes widened. "Woah! Nice dagger you got there!"
"Yeah," Ysaac answered, his voice softer than he meant. "It's called Fenrir's Claw. Mom gave it to me last night."
But in his mind's eye, he saw her face—his mother, Lara, standing in the quiet of their home as she pressed the dagger into his hands. This was your father's, back in his early days. Before the world called him a legend, this dagger was his trusted. Now it's yours. Carry it well.
His grip tightened around the hilt. Father… I'll make it mean something.
The murmurs of the class pulled him back to reality. He glanced across the yard and froze.
Mina stood apart from the rest, her hand resting casually on the hilt of a sleek katana strapped to her waist. Her stance was relaxed, but her presence radiated sharpness, like a drawn blade hidden in plain sight. No party formed around her. No one dared to approach.
Ysaac exhaled under his breath. "Figures… Class-S is a whole different level altogether. Even the instructors are allowing her to go solo."
John followed his gaze and whistled low. "Guess when you're Mina, you don't need anyone watching your back." He smirked, then nudged Ysaac with his elbow. "Still, between us, I'd rather fight alongside you than against her."
Ysaac didn't answer. He kept staring, a strange mix of admiration and distance twisting inside his chest.
She's already where I want to be. And me… I'm just B-class.
The air grew heavy as Elder Lim stepped forward. His presence alone silenced the restless chatter of the students. Cloaked in EverNight's black mantle, his eyes were sharp, piercing, as though they could see the measure of every soul before him.
"Now, everyone…" Elder Lim's voice carried like steel across the field. "The monster zone before you is already swarming with low-level beasts. They are weak, yes, but not harmless. By fighting them, you will gain experience and grow stronger. That is your first step."
A ripple of unease passed through the students. Some gripped their weapons tighter. Others forced bravado into their expressions.
"You don't need to rush straight into the dungeon," Elder Lim continued, his gaze sweeping over them. "The monsters near its entrance are stronger. To reach that place without preparation is to sign your own death."
The students swallowed hard. Even John, always full of fire, clenched his mace a little tighter.
"You will be here for ten days. Survive until then. Gain levels before you dare challenge the dungeon. Your progress, your strength, your very future—" His voice deepened, resounding with finality. "—is in your own hands. Carve it into the world as you see fit. But remember this well…"
Elder Lim paused, letting the silence stretch until every heartbeat echoed in their ears.
"Do not die before you begin your own legend."
He raised a hand in dismissal. "Good luck."
The words hung in the air, heavier than any command.
The barrier gate opened with a low hum, revealing the wilderness beyond. Twisted trees stretched high, their leaves dark as if ink had bled into them. The air reeked faintly of blood and damp soil. From the distance came guttural growls, the rustle of movement, and the faint glint of red eyes watching from the shadows.
The students hesitated at the threshold, staring into the unknown.
John cracked his knuckles. "Well. Guess this is it." He turned to Ysaac, a grin tugging at his lips despite the tension. "Ready to start carving that legend of yours?"
Ysaac adjusted his grip on Fenrir's Claw. His heart pounded in his chest, but his voice came steady.
"…Yeah. Let's go."
And together, they stepped forward into the monster zone.