The transport vehicle that carried the entrance exam applicants looked like a regular school bus — if a school bus had no wheels, hovered two feet above the ground, and hummed like a beehive being politely restrained.
Arin Vyom sat near the back, squished between a nervous kid in a tiger-print headband and a girl who kept glaring at everyone like she already knew all their weaknesses.
"Why is this thing vibrating?" Arin muttered, holding onto the metal bar near his seat.
"Chi stabilization field," said Tiger Headband, voice shaky. "It keeps us from exploding when we pass through the gate."
"…Exploding?" Arin asked.
"Yup," said the girl beside him without blinking. "Happens to one or two every year."
Arin decided he wasn't going to blink either.
Meanwhile, atop the Observation Tower overlooking the Trial Grounds, a long panel of instructors and sect representatives watched the screens lighting up with live feeds of the incoming applicants.
Some looked bored. Others whispered behind fans, tablets, or old-fashioned scrolls. All of them were here to see one thing:
Who would be worthy of entering the martial world?
And only one of them was currently balancing a plate of mochi and a pair of military-grade binoculars.
Akane Elune.
She sat sideways in her chair, feet up, expression unreadable.
When someone coughed pointedly in her direction, she raised one hand and said, "I'm the top scorer, the Elune heir, and I paid for the snacks. I do what I want."
She zoomed in on one of the screens — Section C-3 — and there he was.
Arin Vyom.
Walking down the dirt path with his usual bad posture and humble shoes, but with a look in his eyes she hadn't seen since they were children.
Good, she thought. Let's see how far you've come, servant boy.
The bus dropped them off at the base of a heavily forested mountain ridge.
This wasn't on any map. The trees were too symmetrical, too tall. The air itself buzzed with quiet energy. Even the sky above felt somehow watched.
At the center of a cleared area, an older instructor stood with his arms crossed. His uniform was crisp. His stare sharper than the sword on his back.
"Welcome to your first and only trial," he said. "Your goal is simple."
He pointed to the peak of the mountain, where a small shrine sat glowing faintly.
"Reach the top within one hour. No shortcuts, no tools, no breaking the terrain with explosives."
Someone in the back grumbled.
"Who the hell brings explosives?"
The instructor turned toward them. "You'd be surprised."
Arin adjusted his bag straps. He had no powers. No formal training. Not even shoes designed for mountain terrain.
But this was it. His first step into the world Akane had walked for years.
He couldn't afford to hesitate.
"Begin."
A distant chime echoed across the trees.
And chaos erupted.
Several students bolted into the woods at full speed. One launched himself with chi-enhanced legs. Another started flipping midair, laughing maniacally.
Arin ran too — but more like a cautious jog. He didn't know if the traps were physical, magical, or both.
He was about to find out.
SNAP.
The ground beneath him suddenly cracked. A false patch of earth collapsed, revealing a pit of slick mud and spinning bamboo spikes.
"Whoa—!"
He twisted midair, instinctively planting his foot on a half-submerged rock and flipping over the edge. He rolled into a patch of brush and came up coughing but unhurt.
Tiger Headband was not so lucky. He screamed past Arin, slipped, and was flung face-first into a hanging net.
"…Help?"
Arin offered him a branch. "You okay?"
Tiger groaned. "I've seen my ancestors. They weren't impressed."
Back in the observation tower, one of the instructors leaned forward.
"Who's the kid in Sector C who just cleared the pit with no chi?"
Akane didn't even blink. "Just someone I plan to marry."
A few heads turned.
Akane blinked innocently. "Did I say that out loud?"
Deeper into the forest, the terrain turned harsh. Vines reached like fingers. Roots twisted to trip you. The air grew heavier, and strange sigils pulsed along the trunks of trees — illusion markers, designed to disorient.
Arin slowed his pace. He wasn't the fastest. But he had something else.
Clarity.
He noticed the way shadows repeated in a loop. The smell of ozone before a trap triggered. The gentle curve of a tree that didn't match the natural path.
He followed intuition, not instinct. And somehow, he kept moving forward.
He didn't notice the old fox spirit watching him from a branch, humming in approval.
By the time he reached the halfway marker, sweat soaked his shirt and scratches lined his arms — but he was smiling.
He'd made it farther than anyone expected.
Especially himself.
And far above, binoculars trembling slightly, Akane whispered:
"He's really doing it…"
Then she smiled.
"Now I can't hold back anymore."