Born and the others had no idea that, at that very moment, in the stone-walled office of the military camp, Bobby and Dwight—together with the squad leaders—were shaken by a single after-action report graded A++.
Out in the wilderness, however, Born's team knew nothing of that. They were still fighting, still bathing in blood and fire.
This time, they faced a Flame Lion.
A beast whose mane burned like living fire, whose eyes glowed crimson, its body wreathed in scorching elemental flames. Each roar it loosed whipped the air into blazing winds, as though it meant to set the very earth ablaze.
Abbott's spear crackled with coiling arcs of lightning, the weapon in his hand like a thunder-dragon waiting to strike.
Wherever his spearpoint aimed, the air itself snapped and hissed.
Andy knelt on one knee beside the fallen Ken, green light flowing from his palm as healing energy mended torn flesh and scorched skin.
"That was close!"
Leon, whose combat talent was only rank C, stared pale-faced at the Flame Lion's charred corpse, his heart still pounding. Just moments earlier, the beast had feigned weakness, pretending to collapse—only to lunge in a treacherous counterattack.
If not for Born and Abbott striking in that split second, both he and Ken would have been reduced to ash.
Ken forced himself upright, a strained smile tugging at his lips.
"You're one to talk… If it weren't for you guys, the two of us would be barbecue right now."
The others nodded in grim agreement, relief and fear mingling in their eyes.
Andy finally drew back his hand, the healing glow fading. He let out a long breath.
"Lucky bastard. No broken bones, no missing limbs. If you'd lost an arm or a leg, you'd be on the first cart home, discharged for life."
Ken chuckled weakly and clasped his hands in thanks.
"Much obliged, Andy."
As the last threads of lightning dispersed from his spear, Abbott's voice rang out cold and steady:
"Remember this well. This isn't the academy's sparring ground. Beasts aren't mindless. They think. The one we just faced was only at Warrior level. If it had been a Martial Master–class beast… its cunning and teamwork would rival any human squad."
His words sent a chill through everyone's hearts.
The squad fell silent, every member nodding with solemn respect.
By now, they had already slain five beasts.
Though none of them knew how their record ranked among the many new recruit squads, every soldier could feel it—their growth was visible to the naked eye, honed with each hunt.
"Dig out the core. We're moving."
Abbott gave his spear a sharp twist, lightning fading from his body, his expression steady and composed—the look of a true squad leader.
The others quickly gathered the spoils.
Two hundred meters away, Born stood alone atop a rise, silver light flickering in his eyes. It was his Hawkeye talent, granting him vision far beyond normal sight, allowing him to catch the faintest stirrings of danger before anyone else. It was precisely this skill that had allowed their hunts to succeed again and again.
Abbott raised his hand, making a series of crisp military hand signals.
Born gave a slight nod, slung his longbow across his back, and turned away.
—The signal was clear: find the next target.
At his waist hung what looked like nothing more than an iron staff. Outsiders would dismiss it as a simple metal rod, but anyone from the army would recognize it instantly—this was no staff, but a spear, his hidden weapon for close combat.
Meanwhile, another squad crept forward under the weight of caution.
"Careful."
The members of Strength Squad were stalking a Stonehide Rhino.
This beast was infamous for its defense. Its hide, thick and gray-brown, resembled a suit of living rock, impervious to blades. A single ebony horn jutted from its skull, glinting with a deadly chill. A full charge from that horn could pierce steel.
Judy, a burly figure at the front, frowned deeply. His eyes stayed fixed on the massive creature before he glanced at his captain, Frank.
"Frank… I don't think we can take down a Stonehide. None of us has a combat talent strong enough to break through that hide. If we fight head-on, we'll be—"
The rest of the squad exchanged uneasy looks.
Some averted their eyes, unwilling to speak, watching their captain instead. Others smirked faintly, their expressions dripping with disdain for Judy's caution.
The air grew tense, heavy with unspoken conflict.
To hunt, or to avoid?
To gamble with life and death, or to play it safe?
Within Strength Squad, a rift was quietly taking shape.
"Judy," one young man sneered, his voice cutting, "you awakened an A-rank combat talent—Power Enhancement. And you're trembling like this?"
Judy's brows furrowed tighter, his voice low and steady.
"This isn't fear. It's simple fact. With what we've got… we can't bring down a Stonehide."
No sooner had Judy finished than a derisive laugh cut through the air.
"Stop making excuses! You're just afraid of battle. Remember your place—you're a soldier, not a coward."
"How can you say we can't win when we haven't even fought yet?"
The jeers pressed in from all sides, and Judy's face turned ashen. He clenched his jaw, then turned his eyes toward Captain Frank.
In the army, the captain's judgment was law.
Frank's gaze lingered on Judy for a breath, then swept over the entire squad. His voice came slow and heavy.
"We don't know the kill count of the other squads. But as of now, we've only slain two beasts at the Dual Warrior stage. At this pace… we're far too slow."
A weight settled into his words, underlined with conviction.
"I suspect this recruit trial isn't as simple as it looks. If we want a future worth anything—better assignments, more resources—there's only one path forward: fight. Hesitation will get us nothing."
Judy's expression darkened.
The meaning was clear—Frank had just called him out in front of everyone.
His lips parted, but in the end, no rebuttal came. His temper was too mild, his words too restrained, and now, when he needed force the most, silence bound his tongue.
Frank's voice rang out again, hard as iron.
"Judy, if you don't want to fight, then quit."
"Quit?" Judy's head snapped up. His tone was serious, his eyes unwavering.
"Frank, I won't quit. But I'll say this once more—charging a Stonehide recklessly could cost us lives."
"Enough!"
Frank's cold rebuke cracked through the air, his gaze sharp as blades.
"Who's the captain here—you, or me?"
The atmosphere froze.
With a cutting gesture, Frank's eyes gleamed with a dangerous light.
"A Stonehide is just a Tier-Three Warrior beast. We're all Tier-One Warriors. Together, we can take it down without issue!"
Confidence—and arrogance—blazed in his eyes. Their earlier victories over two Tier-Two beasts had swelled his pride, convincing him his squad could challenge anything.
"Attack!"
With a guttural roar, the battle erupted.
Frank slammed his palms against the ground. The earth heaved violently, jagged spikes of stone tearing upward in a deadly volley aimed at the Stonehide Rhino's belly.
It was his talent—an A-rank combat gift: Earth Elemental Control.
"ROAR—!"
The Stonehide Rhino bellowed at the sky, its rock-like hide gleaming coldly beneath the flicker of firelight. The stone spikes shattered against its armor, fragments spraying in every direction.
Judy drew in a deep breath. In the next instant, a blood-red glow flared in his eyes.
Power Enhancement!
Crackling sounds erupted as his muscles bulged, veins surging beneath his skin. His already massive frame swelled further, like a giant condensed into human form.
With both hands, he swung his colossal warhammer. The weapon howled through the air, carrying the weight of a thousand pounds, and came crashing down toward the enraged beast.
"BOOM—!"
The impact tore the air apart, the hammer's shadow ripping through waves of compressed wind.
Meanwhile, two hundred meters away, Born's squad was tracking along the beast's trail.
From his vantage point, Born stood tall, hawk-like eyes piercing the distance. He had already locked onto the towering figure of the Stonehide Rhino—and the rookie squad recklessly charging it head-on.
Lightning flickered faintly around Abbott's body. He muttered under his breath, his voice low but tense.
"Born. Movement ahead."
Born's eyes narrowed. His hand slowly rested upon the longbow at his back.
The air grew heavy, the scent of battle thickening rapidly—two squads, one battlefield, and the clash already on the brink of eruption.