He knew there would be a trial before officially becoming a cadet, but Rhys hadn't expected this. They weren't briefed beforehand, and from what he'd heard, the entrance trial changed every year.
The other aspiring cadets must be in cells of their own, he thought.
The large animal in front of him was unfamiliar. It resembled a tiger, slightly bigger than a mountain lion, but there were clear differences. Its body was shaped like a leopard's, its ears were sharp and pointed, and its jagged teeth were scattered across its mouth – razor-sharp, as if designed to tear through the toughest flesh. A carnivore, without a doubt.
There weren't many animals in the Sky Lands, which meant the military must have bred this one, possibly for this exact purpose.
That could only mean one thing.
They were testing each candidate's survival skills before granting them cadet status.
After all, Rhys didn't join the military to become an ordinary soldier.
This was the Sky Cavalry – the top military branch. They didn't accept just anyone. They needed people who could survive, who could kill when it mattered.
To officially become a cadet, you had to survive the trial.
That was the only instruction given.
As the creature crouched on the opposite side of the cell, studying him, Rhys realized exactly what that instruction meant.
He had to kill the animal to pass.
He looked at the box beside him and immediately reached for the most practical weapon.
The dagger.
He gripped it tightly. It was sharp, not long, but more than enough to inflict a critical wound.
The problem was, he wasn't a hunter. He'd never killed anything, aside from the occasional hunting trips with Rocher in Hollowbone Forest. And even then, they'd only encountered stags, birds, and other passive animals. Never anything like this.
"You signed up for this, didn't you?" Rhys muttered to himself, shifting into a defensive stance, dagger raised near his chest. Beads of sweat formed on his temples.
If he wanted to be a soldier of the Sky Cavalry, he had to be ready to face not just wild animals but far more lethal creatures.
The animal's amber eyes glinted with killing intent, but it didn't move. It was observing him, studying its prey, likely searching for a weakness. Waiting for the perfect strike.
Rhys grabbed a rock from the box with his free hand and stepped forward quickly. He couldn't wait for it to attack. He had to strike first. Take advantage of its stillness.
But the creature was faster than he expected. It lunged to meet him halfway, one claw slashing out toward his neck. Rhys leapt to the side, his foot catching one of the bars and propelling him upward. He twisted in mid-air, landing on the creature's back.
Rhys was young, just eighteen, having celebrated his birthday less than two weeks ago.
But that didn't mean his life lacked experiences that could sharpen a person's survival instincts.
In this ruined world especially for the poor like him, getting through each day with all your limbs intact and food in your stomach took serious effort.
Rhys knew he couldn't attack the creature from the front, so he made the split-second decision to leap onto its back.
He didn't hesitate. He drove the dagger into the creature's nape and was about to strike again when, suddenly he was thrown off, his back slamming against the steel bars of the cell.
The creature was smarter than he thought. It knew how to move in a way that would force him off its back.
Rhys winced at the pain, but he scrambled to his feet without delay.
The beast growled and lunged. If he hadn't rolled to the side, he would've been shredded to pieces.
No time to think.
Rhys sprinted to the far side of the cell, the creature close behind. Reaching one corner, he hurled the rock at its eye. One second of distraction – that was all he needed. As the beast flinched, he gripped a steel bar, launched himself into the air, and landed on its back again.
This time, he made sure he wouldn't be thrown off.
He plunged the dagger deep into the nape with both hands and held tight. The creature bucked and clawed wildly, but its limbs weren't flexible enough to reach him.
It roared in frustration. Rhys grabbed its large ear with one hand, yanking it for balance.
He was just about to drag the dagger across its neck for a deeper cut when the creature slammed its back into the metal bars.
Rhys's body hit the steel with a bone-jarring thud.
Pain exploded through him. He groaned, eyes squeezed shut, seeing stars burst behind his eyelids.
For a few seconds, everything went dark.
When he came to, he was lying on the floor, his back against the cold steel. The beast stood several feet away, watching him with gleaming, wicked eyes. Mocking him.
Rhys tried to move, but agony shot through his side. His face twisted in pain. He must have broken a few ribs.
Too weak. Damn it.
His dagger, his only weapon, was no longer in his hand. It was still stuck in the creature's neck, but the beast didn't seem the least bit bothered by it.
This creature was stronger than he had imagined.
It bared its teeth, ready to lunge again.
Rhys braced himself, forcing his battered body to move as fast as it could despite the pain.
No—too slow.
In that final second, he knew he wouldn't make it. His eyes widened as the creature lunged, massive jaws opening to crush his head which was small and fragile compared to its gaping maw.