The forest did not welcome them.
It waited.
The clearing at the edge of the academy grounds was wide and deliberately plain. Stone pylons marked its perimeter, each etched with layered sigils that pulsed faintly as candidates gathered. Weapons were finally visible now—blades at hips, staves resting against shoulders, bows checked and rechecked without embarrassment.
No one pretended this was a formality anymore.
Examiners stood apart, their presence measured. Summoners were positioned farther back, near the control arrays embedded into the ground. Pryan recognized the arrangement immediately.
Containment first. Observation second. Intervention last.
This was not a test meant to be interrupted.
When everyone had assembled, the lead examiner stepped forward.
Her voice carried without amplification.
"The final assessment of the entrance exam is a survival test."
No reaction followed. The words landed cleanly.
"For the next four to five hours, you will operate independently inside the designated forest zone." She gestured toward the treeline beyond the pylons. "This area includes regions normally sealed by the academy."
That drew a flicker of attention.
"The seals will be lifted for the duration of the test," she continued. "Natural monsters inhabit those regions. In addition, summoned entities have already been deployed."
No emphasis. No warning tone.
"Your objective is simple," she said. "Survive. Adapt. Withdraw only if you are unable to continue."
A pause.
"Weapons are permitted. Lethal force against monsters is authorized. Lethal force against other candidates is not."
That line mattered.
"Your performance will be evaluated on judgment, restraint, awareness, and response under pressure. Rankings from earlier assessments determine entry order."
Several candidates straightened at that.
"You will enter one at a time," the examiner said. "Five-minute intervals. Directions will be assigned."
She raised a hand.
"Once you enter, you will not be retrieved until the test concludes unless an emergency signal is triggered. Signals will be monitored."
She did not say how fast help would arrive.
She did not need to.
The forest loomed ahead, vast and uneven. Pryan could see how it swallowed sound even from here. This was not the same stretch they had crossed before. This was deeper. Wider. Untouched in ways that mattered.
Somewhere beyond the visible treeline lay land the academy normally kept closed.
That fact alone changed the weight of the test.
Names were called.
The royal candidate went first.
He stepped forward calmly, acknowledged the direction marker, and entered the forest without looking back. The pylons flared briefly, then settled.
Five minutes passed.
Another candidate followed, sent toward a different path. Then another.
The rhythm was deliberate.
Spacing. Isolation. Silence.
Pryan listened to the gaps more than the footsteps.
When his name was called, he stepped forward without hesitation.
"Left route," the examiner said.
He nodded once.
As he crossed the threshold, the academy vanished behind him faster than expected. The wards closed with a muted hum, and the forest absorbed the sound like it had been waiting to.
The air changed immediately.
Not hostile.
Dense.
The ground beneath his boots was uneven, roots exposed, soil damp with recent growth. Light filtered through the canopy in fractured patterns, never quite steady. Pryan adjusted his breathing and moved forward at a measured pace.
He did not rush.
This was not a sprint. It was endurance.
He noted signs as he moved. Scratches on bark. Broken undergrowth. Mana residue faint enough that less attentive candidates might miss it.
Summoned monsters, he thought. Controlled. But not close.
Fifteen minutes ahead of him, the royal candidate was already deep inside.
Behind him, the forest waited for the next entry.
Seris would be sent soon, Pryan knew. A different direction. Not far, but not close enough to rely on.
That was intentional.
He moved deeper, senses open, guard steady.
Far above the forest, unseen from Pryan's position, subtle shifts were already being noticed.
Not alarms.
Patterns.
Kaien stood near the monitoring arrays, brows faintly drawn together. He was not assigned to observe Pryan. His attention was elsewhere—on the broader field, the flow of mana across the forest zones.
There was… more than expected.
Not in one place.
Spread.
Distributed in a way that felt wrong.
He checked the readings again, slower this time.
"Unusual density," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.
Not enough to halt the test.
Not enough to justify intervention.
But enough to report.
Kaien turned, already moving toward the inner chambers.
Inside the forest, Pryan continued forward, unaware of the quiet concern forming far behind him.
The trees thickened.
Sound thinned.
And with every step, the academy felt farther away—not in distance, but in certainty.
The test had begun.
And once inside, order no longer belonged to anyone alone.