Eight days of relentless drills, exhaustion, and controlled chaos had honed the Eclipse Vanguard and their allies to a sharp edge. Sir Rolan's booming laughter, Lady Mira's piercing eyes, Sylvara's precise commands, Grumli's steadfast corrections, Raugor's ferocious roars, and Korra's cunning critiques had pushed them to the brink, but now the teachers approached with a rare, somber expression.
"This… was your golden time," Sir Rolan said, voice heavy. "You've learned technique, endurance, and teamwork. But the next step is beyond what any of us can teach."
Lady Mira nodded, her eyes scanning each cadet with both pride and warning. "From now, the Royal Crown Prince Draevor will take over. Our ears are closing for the city's sake—your screams will echo, your cries of agony filling every corner."
The group was hit by the announcement like a sledgehammer. Rumors swirled through the cadets. Even the remaining five adventurer groups—Lionheart Vanguard, Serpent Fang, Falcon Talons, Phoenix Flame, and Dragon's Might—got a shiver down their backs.
The Eclipse Vanguard came forward with cautious paces. The enormous doors swung open to reveal a figure whose presence drained the room of light. Draevor loomed, red eyes blazing with inhuman ferocity, his aura brimming with sheer authority and evil. The recollections of past dealings flashed before Kael's vision—the pain of being manipulated by Azrak, the Demon Royal's past conquests, the fear that once petrified him.
Do not be afraid," Draevor said quietly, voice booming and unshakeable. "I am challenging you. If one of you is killed, I can resurrect him. Within one minute, I can restore any warrior who has fallen. But do not misunderstand—torture will be excruciating. Every blow, every scorch, every psychic whip will cut through flesh and soul both."
The first day was spent in unrelenting battle. Kael, Azrak, Elira, Rina, Thargrim, and Lyrielle were matched against three cadets from each of the factions- demons, elves, dwarves, Beastmen, and Royal Academy. Lions, foxes, tigers, wolves, serpents-all trained, brutal, and vicious. Draevor drove constant sparring without cease. The cadets fell, staggered, and rose again beneath the blinding glare of his eyes. Every defeat was punished ruthlessly; Draevor would intervene, applying blows that set burns, bruises, and profound mental scars.
By the second day, Draevor's ferocity intensified. The cadets were pushed to their physical limits—compelled to hold stances for hours, spar continuously, and withstand agony that blurred the distinction between training and torture. He added mental anguish: illusions of their own deaths, visions of fallen comrades, whispers of fear and deception that shook their minds. Even the cadets who had once excelled and were youthful encountered shuddering beneath the relentless stress.
The third and fourth days were a cycle of torture. Any cadet who failed sparring or endurance drills was given 30 minutes of intense torture, with each teacher—then Draevor himself—delivering punishment aimed at breaking the body along with the spirit simultaneously. The Eclipse Vanguard and the other five adventurer parties witnessed this while learning; each one in the party gained strength from the pain but remained on the edge of exhaustion. Kael's strides quickened, Azrak's blows more lethal, Elira's cure quicker and more accurate, Rina's speed almost impossible to follow, Thargrim's raw power unstoppable, and Lyrielle's coordination freakish. The A-rank groups were also pushed too: Rion and Lionheart Vanguard, Silvar and Serpent Fang, Falcon Talons of Alaric, Phoenix Flame of Seraphine, and Dragon's Might of Valerian all suffered Draevor's ruthless drills, each becoming stronger but leaving blood and sweat trails on the training ground.
By the fifth day, Draevor escalated his classes. Cadets who had previously failed went through not only physical punishment but also psychological torture. Draevor would make them relive nightmares of their friends being killed, only to resurrect them in a minute, extending the fear and instilling resiliency. The wails of pain of the Eclipse Vanguard and all cadets echoed through the city, but a magic-imposed sound-proof barrier by Draevor sealed it from being heard outside, and the capital remained blissfully ignorant of the atrocities inside the training hall.
Especially Kael started to sense something stirring deep within him—a secret well of strength. While sparring with a dwarf cadet, he unwittingly copied one of the opponent's spells, his hands unpracticed yet effortlessly moving to recreate the energy. A jolt of understanding flashed into his mind: Divine Copy, an unlearned talent to recopy any technique, spell, or motion he saw. With it, Kael started resisting Draevor's attacks with growing accuracy, keeping up in ways even his instructors could hardly credit.
By the sixth day, Draevor unleashed relentless punishment. The cadets were put through non-stop 24-hour mental and physical abuse, switching between sparring, stamina tests, and illusion-based psychological manipulation. Magic, steel, claws, and brute strength clashed without respite. The Eclipse Vanguard endured strikes that tore through armor, brute-force attacks that shattered bones, and psychic assaults that wracked their minds. Azrak gritted his teeth as Draevor forced him to relive every personal failure, while Elira's spells were strained to their absolute limits, constantly healing wounds that kept returning.
The other A-rank parties suffered in parallel. Seraphine's Phoenix Flame strained to cope with her healing and destructive magic at the same time; Valerian and Lady Amara of Dragon's Might survived Draevor's sphere attacks that tested even their S-rank endurance; Alaric's Falcon Talons battered and bruised, Silvar's Serpent Fang subjected to their own terror and agony, and Rion's Lionheart Vanguard pushed to the breaking point. Even the junior cadets, from all sides, experienced the bite of death and despair on a daily basis, but Draevor's vow of rebirth kept them going.
At last, on the seventh day, Draevor's trials were over. The cadets, adventurers, and the Eclipse Vanguard fell to the ground, bodies shredded, minds frazzled, but aflame with newfound vitality. Sweat, blood, and bruises coated every warrior; every muscle screamed, yet every eye shone with power they'd never known. Draevor surveyed them, his expression inscrutable. "You have survived. Not from mercy, but because you'd endured what few could. Today, each of you stands on the threshold of S-rank. Remember this strength, for the monster waves are coming.
Party members and cadets regarded each other, tired and elated. Kael cracked his hands back and forth, the rush of Divine Copy still running through him like electricity, capable of predicting and duplicating any assault he had witnessed. Azrak's eyes blazed with fresh energy; Elira's magical stores had grown; Rina fought with frenzied abandon; Thargrim struck with increased power than before; Lyrielle's accuracy was deadly. Throughout the other five adventurer groups, every member had expanded exponentially, their former limits destroyed and remade in battle.
The hall was quiet except for ragged gasps, interrupted only by Draevor's deep voice: "This was merely the start. Bear in mind, survival does not require strength alone. Pain passes. The field of battle shall not overlook fragility."
All cadets, young demons, elves, dwarves, Beastmen, and academy alumni had been transformed. None of them would ever be the same again. The Eclipse Vanguard and their friends had endured the Demon's Hand—and come out as warriors of legend.