Raze stood perfectly still, letting his senses expand through the forest. The air smelled of damp earth and rotting vegetation, thick with moisture that suggested recent rain. Branches creaked overhead as wind moved through the canopy, creating a symphony of natural sound that would mask approach until something got close.

His hand rested on his katana's hilt, ready but not drawn. Bephe prowled in a tight circle around him, the creature's nostrils flaring as he processed scents invisible to human perception.

Then the undergrowth exploded.

A beast launched itself from concealment between two massive roots, all rippling muscle and bared fangs. Expert rank cultivation radiated from it, power enough to threaten most delegates if they weren't prepared. The thing looked like someone had crossed a wolf with a bear and given the result too many teeth, fur bristling with ambient mana that crackled across its hide.

Raze's hand tightened on his katana, instincts screaming to draw and engage.

He didn't get the chance.

Bephe moved with speed that belied his bulk, prehistoric predator intercepting the leaping beast mid-air. Jaws clamped around the creature's throat with a wet crunch that echoed through the trees. The Expert rank beast had one moment to register surprise before Bephe's bite severed its spine, ending the fight before it properly began.

The young predator landed with his kill, shaking it once like a dog with a toy before dropping the corpse and looking back at Raze with an expression that clearly said mine.

"I was going to handle that," Raze said mildly.

Bephe snorted, turning away to sniff at his kill with obvious satisfaction.

"You know that thing probably weighed three times what you do right now, right? Expert rank cultivation, enhanced strength, designed to kill things. And you just grabbed it out of the air like catching a ball."

Another snort, this one sounding distinctly smug.

"Alright, fine. You're terrifying. Point made."

Raze checked his bracelet. The display had updated: 15 points. Apparently Expert rank kills were worth decent value. The massive scoreboard would be tracking this in real time, visible to everyone watching from outside.

Movement in the undergrowth warned him this wasn't a solitary encounter. More shapes emerged from between the trees, drawn by the sound of combat or perhaps simply patrolling their territory. Six beasts this time, varying sizes and species but all radiating Expert rank power.

"Guess we're doing this," Raze muttered, finally drawing his katana.

The blade sang free of its sheath, steel catching filtered sunlight. His core responded immediately, mana flooding through meridians in patterns that had become instinctive through months of training. Combat Reflex kicked in, perception sharpening as everything seemed to slow slightly.

The beasts charged as pack, coordinated assault that suggested either intelligence or well developed hunting instincts.

Raze met them head on.

Scarlet Leap carried him forward in an explosive burst, closing distance before they expected. His katana flashed through practiced form, blade finding the gap between ribs on the nearest beast. Hot blood sprayed across his arm as the creature collapsed, Expert rank durability insufficient against precisely targeted strike enhanced by mana reinforcement.

Bephe had engaged two more, the young predator's size fluctuating as he expanded to match his opponents. Claws that could rend stone tore through flesh, prehistoric strength making short work of beasts designed for this environment. The creatures fought back desperately, but Bephe's Demigod potential showed even in juvenile form, power transcending their rank entirely.

A beast lunged at Raze's blind side, jaws wide enough to take his head off. He pivoted smoothly, Combat Reflex having already mapped the attack trajectory. His katana swept up in a rising cut that opened the creature from jaw to shoulder, momentum carrying it past him to crash into a tree.

Two more converged simultaneously, trying to overwhelm through coordinated pressure. Raze triggered Void Step, reality bending around him as he displaced three meters instantly. The beasts collided with each other in the space he'd occupied, confusion giving him opening to strike. His blade found the spine of one before it recovered, mana enhanced edge shearing through vertebrae like they were soft wood.

The final beast, seeing its pack decimated in seconds, tried to flee.

Bephe ran it down before it made it ten meters, a prehistoric predator moving with speed that seemed impossible for something his mass. The impact when he tackled it shook the ground, followed by wet sounds that didn't require visual confirmation.

Silence returned to the forest, broken only by Raze's controlled breathing and Bephe's satisfied rumbling.

Seven corpses lay scattered across the clearing. Expert rank beasts, each one capable of killing unprepared Apprentice rank cultivators, ended in less than two minutes of violence.

Raze checked his bracelet: 120 points total. The kills were accumulating nicely.

"Not bad for an opening," he said to Bephe. "Think we can maintain this pace for three hours?"

The prehistoric predator responded by expanding further, growing to the size of a large horse. Apparently that was his answer.

"Right then. Let's find more."

They moved deeper into the forest, hunting with systematic efficiency. Every few minutes brought new encounters. Packs of razor clawed predators. Solitary ambush hunters dropping from tree branches. Swarms of smaller beasts that relied on numbers over individual power.

Raze and Bephe carved through them all, a partnership creating a rhythm of devastation. The young predator would engage multiple targets while Raze picked off stragglers, or Raze would create openings that let Bephe finish wounded enemies. Their points climbed steadily, bracelet display updating with each confirmed kill.

The variety was impressive. Whoever designed this pocket dimension had populated it with creatures adapted to every possible combat scenario. Raze faced beasts with armored hides that required precision strikes, lightning fast predators that tested his reflexes, venomous ambushers that demanded constant vigilance.

Each encounter taught him something. Each kill refined his technique slightly. This wasn't just an examination but a compressed learning experience, forcing rapid adaptation under genuine pressure.

His katana work improved as muscle memory deepened. His mana control became more efficient as he learned to minimize waste. His tactical thinking sharpened as patterns emerged from the chaos.

And through it all, Bephe was having the time of his life. The prehistoric predator's joy in combat was almost infectious, pure enthusiasm for violence uncomplicated by doubt or hesitation. Every kill brought rumbling satisfaction, every new threat greeted with eager anticipation.

"You're actually smiling," Raze observed after they finished a particularly brutal encounter with a pack of Expert Peak beasts. "I can see it. That's your happy face."

Bephe's tail wagged, spattering blood across nearby trees.

"We're definitely getting you proper meals after this. Something tells me the Academy cafeteria portions won't satisfy you."

The points continued accumulating. 300. 400. 500. Each threshold bringing them higher in whatever rankings were being tracked outside this dimension.

‐‐‐

Fedora materialized on rocky outcropping overlooking a valley filled with jagged stone formations. The environment was harsh, wind whipping across exposed stone with force that would knock lesser cultivators off balance. Below, movement suggested beasts adapted to this terrain, things that climbed and leaped between the rocks with disturbing agility.

Slith uncoiled from her shoulders, the serpent expanding to his full current size of three meters. The Alpha Slither's scales shimmered as he tasted the air, processing information through senses humans couldn't match.

"Well," Fedora said quietly. "This should be interesting."

A beast emerged from behind nearby rocks, something resembling a mountain lion crossed with a spider. Expert rank cultivation radiated from it, eight legs carrying it across a vertical stone face like gravity was optional rather than physical law.

It leaped toward her, claws extended and mandibles clicking with hunger.

Fedora's hand extended, palm forward. Her Precognition had already shown her the attack trajectory, consciousness experiencing the future half second before it arrived. She knew exactly where the beast would be, exactly when to strike.

Her authority activated.

Telekinetic force erupted from her extended palm, invisible pressure slamming into the leaping beast with enough force to reverse its momentum entirely. The creature flew backward like it had been kicked by a giant, crashing into the stone face it had emerged from with an impact that cracked rock.

It tried to rise, Expert rank durability letting it survive what would have killed weaker beasts.

Slith struck before it recovered, serpentine body moving with liquid grace that belied his size. Fangs sank into the creature's neck, venom flooding its system while coils wrapped around its struggling form. The beast thrashed desperately, eight legs finding no purchase against scales harder than steel.

The struggles weakened quickly. Slith's venom was designed to drop prey far above his weight class, paralytic compounds shutting down nervous systems with terrifying efficiency. Within thirty seconds the beast went still, consciousness fled even if death hadn't quite arrived.

Fedora checked her bracelet: 15 points.

More movement below announced additional threats. A pack of the spider-lions was ascending toward her position, drawn by the sounds of combat or perhaps defending their territory from intruders.

"Mariabel would tell me to stop being passive," Fedora said to herself. The flame wielder's voice echoed in her memory, endless training sessions where the disgraced noble had pushed her to be more aggressive, more willing to press advantages rather than wait for attacks.

Her hands extended toward the ascending pack, both palms forward this time.

Her authority surged.

Telekinetic pressure erupted in waves, invisible force catching five beasts simultaneously. They flew backward as one, coordination shattered as each one tumbled through space before slamming into various rock formations. The impacts created thunder of breaking stone, avalanche of debris cascading down the valley.

Slith was already moving, flowing down the rocks toward the scattered beasts with predatory focus. The Alpha Slither struck repeatedly, venom and constriction ending threats before they could recover from telekinetic assault.

Fedora followed more carefully, using her authority to create stable platforms of compressed air that let her descend without climbing. Oziel's training had emphasized mobility, the Grandmaster drilling into her that mages who couldn't reposition effectively died when enemies closed distance.

Another beast lunged from concealment, mandibles clicking toward her leg.

She saw it coming through Precognition, future and present overlapping in her perception. Her authority responded before conscious thought, a telekinetic barrier forming around her body like a second skin. The beast's attack crashed against invisible force, mandibles scraping uselessly.

Her counterattack was immediate, telekinetic spike forming in her extended palm before launching forward. The compressed air moved faster than a crossbow bolt, punching through the beast's skull with a wet crack. It collapsed, the brain destroyed by an attack it never saw coming.

More appeared. They always appeared.

Fedora smiled despite the danger, settling into rhythm Mariabel had beaten into her through countless sparring sessions. Attack, reposition, attack again. Press advantages, control space, never let enemies dictate engagement terms.

Her authority sang through her meridians, esper ability that bypassed traditional elemental classifications entirely. Pure force manipulation, reality bending to her will through a combination of Precognition and telekinetic control.

Expert Peak rank cultivation flooded through her core, power she'd achieved through months of brutal training under Oziel's unforgiving instruction. The advancement had come just days before departure, perfect timing that suggested fate approving her preparation.

Slith's kills registered on her bracelet alongside her own, points accumulating as they carved through the valley's defenders together.

This was what partnership meant. This was what bound companions enabled.

And she was just getting started.

The valley stretched before her, filled with countless more threats. She descended methodically, telekinetic platforms carrying her from position to position while Slith ranged ahead clearing obstacles. Every beast that approached found itself facing a Princess who'd learned to fight from a Grandmaster and a disgraced noble who refused to accept weakness.

Her Precognition showed her attacks seconds before they arrived, giving her time to position counterstrikes perfectly. Her telekinetic authority provided both offense and defense, invisible force that could crush or deflect with equal effectiveness. And Slith brought overwhelming lethality, venom and constriction dropping enemies before they could mount sustained resistance.

The points climbed steadily. 150. 200. 250. Each kill proof that months of brutal training had produced genuine capability.

‐‐‐

Darius materialized in grassland that stretched to the horizon, golden stalks waving in wind that carried scents of wild growth and distant water. The openness was both advantage and disadvantage, visibility for miles but zero cover if something dangerous spotted him.

His spear appeared in his hands through a storage ring, the familiar weight centering him immediately. Six feet of hardwood shaft topped with steel point, a weapon he'd trained with since childhood.

Movement in the grass warned him before visual confirmation arrived. Something large was approaching, stalks parting as bulk pushed through vegetation too thick for smaller creatures.

The beast emerged into view: massive boar covered in rocky protrusions that looked like natural armor. Expert rank cultivation radiated from it, tusks gleaming with mana enhancement that suggested they could punch through steel.

Darius settled into his stance, spear held in guard position while his breathing fell into the pattern his instructors had drilled into him since he was old enough to hold a weapon.

The boar charged with speed that belied its mass, earth shaking under its hooves.

Darius waited, counting heartbeats while the distance closed. Three. Two. One.

He moved.

His spear blurred forward in thrust that combined footwork, hip rotation, and arm extension into single fluid motion. The point found the gap between rocky protrusions, steel punching through hide and into vital organs with precision born of endless repetition.

The boar's momentum carried it forward even as the strike landed, mass threatening to bowl him over despite successful attack. Darius twisted sideways, letting the dying beast thunder past while extracting his spear cleanly.

It collapsed ten meters beyond him, Expert rank durability keeping it alive for a few more seconds before blood loss finished what the wound started.

Darius checked his bracelet: 15 points.

More movement in the grass. Multiple sources, circling patterns that suggested pack hunters rather than solitary predators.

They burst from concealment simultaneously, six wolf-like beasts with scale covered hides instead of fur. Expert rank, coordinated, attacking from multiple vectors to overwhelm through numbers.

Darius's spear became a blur of motion, point and shaft working together to create a defensive perimeter. The first beast lunged at his throat and received a spear point through its skull. The second came low and got the shaft slammed into its spine with force that shattered vertebrae. The third tried to circle behind and found steel waiting, thrust that opened its throat before it could close jaws around his leg.

The remaining three adjusted their approach, showing intelligence that suggested these weren't mindless monsters. They spread wider, forcing him to defend a larger area while looking for openings.

Darius shifted his stance, settling lower and extending his spear toward the nearest threat. His breathing remained controlled, the pattern his instructors called Breathflow keeping his muscles oxygenated and his mind clear despite adrenaline flooding his system.

One beast feinted left then darted right, trying to bait defensive overcommitment.

Darius didn't bite. His spear tracked the actual movement, ignoring the feint entirely. When the beast committed to its attack, steel was already positioned to receive it. The creature's own momentum drove the spear point through its chest, Expert rank cultivation insufficient to prevent penetration.

The final two attacked together, recognizing that separated assaults weren't working.

Darius's spear swept in a wide arc, the shaft catching one beast across the jaw with enough force to snap its head sideways. While it staggered, he reversed the motion and drove the point into the other beast's exposed flank, mana enhanced thrust punching through scale armor.

Both collapsed within seconds of each other, Expert rank durability delaying but not preventing death.

Darius stood among seven corpses, breathing still controlled despite the violence. His spear work had been clean, efficient, nothing wasted on unnecessary flourishes or displays.

Bracelet update: 120 points.

The grassland stretched before him, golden stalks hiding who knew how many more threats.

He smiled slightly, settling his spear into the ready position.

This was what he'd trained for his entire life. The Breathflow technique his master had taught him, the discipline drilled through endless repetition, the understanding that true mastery came through perfecting fundamentals rather than chasing flashy techniques.

He moved forward systematically, covering ground while remaining alert for threats. The grassland was deceptive, seemingly peaceful while hiding predators adapted perfectly to this environment.

A massive serpent erupted from underground, jaws wide enough to swallow him whole. Expert Peak rank, intelligence gleaming in eyes that tracked his movement with disturbing focus.

Darius's spear intercepted the strike, point deflecting the serpent's head sideways while he sidestepped. The beast's momentum carried it past him, giving him an opening to reverse his grip and drive the spear down through its skull from above.

The kill was clean, efficient, exactly what his training demanded.

Points accumulated. 200. 250. 300. Each threshold marking his advancement through the examination's rankings.

‐‐-

Prince Lucien of Astoria materialized in a swamp that reeked of decay and stagnant water. Mud sucked at his boots, vegetation hung in curtains from twisted trees, and the ambient humidity made breathing feel like drowning in slow motion.

"Disgusting," he muttered, surveying his surroundings with expression of pure distaste. His blonde hair was already wilting in the humidity, product failing against environmental assault.

A beast erupted from the murky water, serpentine body thick as a man's torso and covered in algae slicked scales. Master Low rank cultivation radiated from it, power matching the Prince's own advancement.

His sword cleared its sheath in movement too fast to follow, a noble blade worth more than most people's houses. The steel gleamed despite the dim swamp light, enchantments woven into the metal making it practically indestructible.

The serpent struck, jaws wide enough to swallow a horse.

Lucien's blade met it mid-lunge, edge finding the gap between scales through pure skill. His swordsmanship was exceptional despite his personality flaws, years of royal instruction producing genuine capability beneath the arrogance.

The serpent's head separated from its body cleanly, momentum carrying both pieces past him to splash into the water.

Bracelet update: 150 points. Master rank kills were worth substantially more.

More shapes moved through the swamp, drawn by the disturbance. Lucien smiled, expression carrying nothing pleasant.

"Come then," he said to the approaching threats. "Let me show you why Astoria produces the finest warriors in all fifteen kingdoms."

His blade sang through the fetid air, noble arrogance backed by genuine lethality.

Master rank beasts fell before his sword like wheat before a scythe. The weapon was extraordinary, enchantments amplifying his strikes beyond what normal steel could achieve. Each cut left trails of light in the air, mana bleeding off the blade with every movement.

The swamp became a killing ground, Lucien's cultivation and equipment combining to create an overwhelming advantage. He moved through the murky water with surprising grace, boots somehow finding solid footing despite the treacherous terrain.

A massive crocodilian thing lunged from concealment, Master Mid rank power radiating from an armored hide. Lucien's response was immediate, sword plunging through the beast's eye and into its brain before it could close massive jaws.

Points climbed rapidly. 400. 500. 600. The Prince's resources and training showed their value, noble privilege translated into measurable combat superiority.

‐‐‐

Gareth Valorian, son of Duke Valorian of the Elmbridge Empire, materialized in mountain peaks where air was thin enough to make breathing difficult for those unused to altitude. Snow crunched under his boots, wind howled between jagged rocks, and the temperature suggested frostbite was a real possibility for prolonged exposure.

He didn't seem bothered by any of it.

A beast emerged from snow drift, something resembling a white furred ape with claws designed for climbing ice faces. Master Mid rank cultivation radiated from it, power that would threaten most delegates seriously.

Gareth extended one hand, not bothering to draw the sword strapped across his back.

Fire erupted around his fingers, heat haze distorting the air. The flames weren't normal red but blue white, temperature suggesting he could melt stone if he chose.

The beast charged, Master Mid rank speed carrying it across snow in explosive rush.

Gareth's flames met it halfway, blue white fire engulfing the creature's body entirely. The thing had time for one agonized roar before the heat reduced it to ash, Master Mid rank durability insufficient against flames that burned hot enough to liquefy metal.

Bracelet update: 200 points.

More beasts appeared, drawn by the light and heat. Mountain predators adapted to frozen environment, each one radiating Master rank power that would challenge most cultivators.

Gareth's expression remained perfectly neutral as flames spread across both hands.

"The Elmbridge Empire accepts only the exceptional," he said quietly to himself. "Let me demonstrate why that standard exists."

Blue white fire erupted across the mountainside, turning snow to steam and beasts to ash.

His control was extraordinary, flames dancing at his command with precision that suggested years of dedicated practice. The fire responded to his will like extension of his body, temperature and intensity adjusting based on threat assessment.

A Master Peak rank beast emerged, a thing of ice and fury that radiated power approaching the Grandmaster threshold. Most delegates would flee from such an opponent.

Gareth smiled, flames intensifying until the air itself seemed to burn.

The battle was brief but spectacular, blue white fire clashing against ice manipulation on display that turned the mountainside into a temporary battlefield worthy of legends. When the flames finally died, only ash remained of what had been a formidable predator.

Points soared. 700. 800. Gareth's combination of noble training, exceptional talent, and family resources creating devastating effectiveness.

‐‐-

Headmaster Sariah stood in the observation chamber high above the courtyard, watching hundreds of screens simultaneously display delegate performance. Around her, five individuals wearing the robes marking them as Academy Deans observed their own assigned sections.

"Gareth Valorian is performing exactly as expected," Dean Winters commented, his attention focused on screens showing the mountain environment. "Master Mid rank cultivation, exceptional fire authority, ducal training. His father would be proud."

"Prince Lucien is less refined but no less effective," Dean Cortez observed. "His swordsmanship is excellent despite his personality issues. Astoria's martial tradition produces results regardless of character flaws."

"I'm more interested in the surprises," Dean Laurent said, gesturing toward different screens. "This Fedora Westia from Westia, for instance. Expert Peak with telekinetic authority and bound Alpha Slither. Her combat efficiency is remarkable for someone so young."

"The spear wielder Darius Crawford from Westia is worth noting as well," Dean Winters added. "Clean technique, excellent breathing control, strategic thinking. He'll advance quickly here."

Sariah let them discuss while her own attention focused on a specific screen showing the forest environment. The young man fighting there moved with a combination of raw skill and something else, something that made her ancient instincts whisper warnings.

Raze Dragonheart, according to his file. Count of Westia despite common birth, engaged to their princess, survivor of Sovereign rank assassination. The official reports were impressive enough.

But watching him fight suggested the reports were incomplete.

His bound creature was another anomaly. The thing looked juvenile but fought with power that suggested Demigod potential at minimum. Where had a newly elevated Count acquired such a companion?

She gestured, pulling up the main leaderboard that displayed top ten performers.

The rankings had already begun shifting as kills accumulated:

1. Gareth Valorian - 847 points

2. Lucien Astoria - 623 points

3. Kira Steelheart - 581 points

4. Raze Dragonheart - 512 points

5. Elara Nightshade - 467 points

6. Caius Stormweaver - 445 points

7. Fedora Westia - 398 points

8. Roland Frostbane - 376 points

9. Darius Crawford - 341 points

10. Sylvia Quickblade - 329 points

"The Westia Count is fourth already," Dean Laurent noted with surprise. "His advancement rate is exceptional. What rank is he?"

"Master Low according to registration," Sariah replied.

"Then he's punching above his weight significantly. Most of those ahead of him are Master Mid or higher."

The Headmaster nodded slowly, watching Raze's screen as he and his bound creature tore through a pack of Expert Peak beasts with efficiency that bordered on casual.

"I have a good feeling about this intake," she said quietly. "Something tells me this year's delegates will prove exceptional even by our standards."

The Deans murmured agreement, attention returning to their assigned screens.

Two and a half hours remained. Four hundred fifty delegates scattered across pocket dimension, each one fighting to prove they belonged at humanity's greatest Academy.

And Sariah watched them all, ancient eyes seeing patterns and potential that would shape the human domain's future.

This would be an interesting year indeed.

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