The forest arena was a primal maze, its towering trees draped in moss, their gnarled branches weaving a canopy that dimmed the sunlight to a murky green. Edwyn stood over Ramsay's corpse, the metallic stench of blood still lingering in the air, his stomach settling after the nausea of his first kill. In his hand gleamed a black, diamond-shaped Mana Stone, no bigger than his thumb, its surface catching the faint light like a dark gem. He'd overheard nobles on the airship whispering about these stones, 100,000 gold coins a pop in the Goldengrove Kingdom, but holding one was a whole different beast. Probing it with his spiritual sense, he felt a surge of mana, dense and vibrant, dwarfing his own Mana Flow. Absorbing it was like drinking from a firehose, smooth, instant, a stark contrast to the sluggish two-day grind of pulling mana from nature.
"Well, damn," Edwyn muttered. "No wonder these things are worth a kingdom's ransom. Two of these, and I'd be mowing down Apprentices like a one-man army." His blue eyes glinted as he tucked the stone into his pouch, the weight of it a promise of power. Battles between Mages? Sounds like a rich kid's game. Lucky for me, I'm crashing the party.
The forest hummed with distant screams and rustling leaves, a reminder of the exam's brutal stakes. With the Mana Stone as his backup battery, Edwyn felt a surge of confidence. He raised his hand, a shimmer of light flickering across his body as he cast Feather Foot. The Zero-Circle Spell took hold, his body lightening as if gravity had loosened its grip, his boots barely touching the mossy earth.
"Time to move," he said. He broke into a run, his steps swift and silent, the pouch at his waist feeling like a feather despite its load of nutrient vials and the crystal orb looted from Ramsay.
With Feather Foot active, Edwyn covered ground like a specter, weaving through trees at twice his normal speed, the forest blurring past in a green haze. The pillar of light in the distance, his goal, glowed like a beacon, its brilliance cutting through the canopy. At this rate, he'd reach it in three days, well ahead of the fourteen-day limit. Early bird gets the worm… or the orb, in this case.
But the forest had other plans. A sharp whoosh sliced through the air, and Edwyn's instincts kicked in. He ducked, his body low and fluid, the Wind Crow Sword Style guiding his movements. An ice spike streaked past, missing his abdomen by inches, and buried itself in a tree with a thunk, leaving a jagged hole in the ancient trunk.
"Well, that was close!" Edwyn said, his grin sharp as he straightened, his heart pounding but his tone mocking. "Somebody's got a bad aim."
He scanned the shadows, his senses razor-sharp. The forest was alive with danger, rustling leaves, distant roars, the faint crackle of mana.
"Alright, pal, you wanna play?" he muttered, raising his hand. A pulse of blue light flared at his fingertip, and he fired a Magic Missile toward the source of the attack, the bolt streaking through the trees like a comet. He didn't wait to see if it hit. Casting Feather Foot again, he lowered his posture and zigzagged through the underbrush, his movements a blur of calculated chaos.
Whoosh! Another ice spike flew, but this one missed by a mile, embedding itself in a bush with a pathetic rustle. Edwyn's grin widened, his eyes glinting with predatory amusement. "Oh, you're panicking now," he said, his voice dripping with mockery. "Ambush failed, huh? Should've practiced your aim, genius."
He spotted her, a petite noble girl, her delicate features framed by dark curls, her fine silk dress torn at the hem from the forest's rough terrain. Her face was pale with panic, her ringed hand waving frantically as she tried to conjure another ice spike, her eyes squeezed shut like a kid afraid of the dark. "Don't come any closer!" she screamed, her voice shrill. "Stay away! I said stay away!" Another spike launched, veering wildly off course, crashing into a tree with a splintering crack.
Edwyn stopped a few meters away, his grin fading to a cold, unyielding smirk. "Lady, you should've thought this through before taking a shot at me," he said, his tone icy as blue light sparked at his fingertips. "As they say where I'm from: equal rights, equal fights."
Bang.
A Magic Missile erupted, striking her chest with a sickening crunch. Red and white splattered across the forest floor, her body crumpling like a broken doll. Edwyn's stomach twisted, but he swallowed the nausea, his grin returning as he approached the corpse.
"Tough break, princess," he muttered, kneeling to loot her gear. Two pouches lay beside her, likely swiped from another victim of hers, stuffed with nutrient vials and a crystal orb. He pulled a gray metal ring from her finger, its setting designed to hold a Mana Stone, its surface etched with faint, ancient runes.
"So, this is an Arcane Artifact," Edwyn said, holding the ring to the light, his grin sly. "The Medici's little secret, huh? No wonder their alliance held together." He probed the ring with his spiritual sense, feeling a faint hum of mana, but when he tried to feed it into the Infinite Forge, the furnace didn't react, like it was scoffing at the trinket.
"Too low-grade for you, huh?" he muttered, chuckling. "Picky bastard."
He searched her body, finding three more Mana Stones, each pulsing with that same potent energy, and a magic dagger, its hilt slotted for a Mana Stone. He inserted one, and a glowing rune flared on the blade, its edge shimmering with arcane sharpness.
"Let's see what you've got," he said, swinging the dagger at a nearby tree. The blade sliced through the century-old trunk like butter, leaving a clean gash. "Sharp as hell!" Edwyn whistled, his grin wide. Wind Crow Sword Style with a blade like this? I'm a walking blender now.
The style, extracted from the first Baron of Black Forest, was a deadly dance of precision and speed, perfect for close quarters. As a Mage Apprentice, Edwyn was vulnerable up close, without mana, he was just a farmer's son. But this dagger, paired with his Wind Crow mastery, turned him into a melee threat. He suppressed a laugh, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Oh, this is gonna be fun."
He removed the Mana Stone, unwilling to waste its power, and sheathed the dagger at his waist, slipping the ring onto his finger. The rest of the girl's gear, torn silk, a few trinkets, was useless, dead weight.
"Finders keepers," he said, leaving it for some lucky scavenger. "Enjoy the freebies, whoever you are."
Edwyn adjusted his strategy, moving cautiously now, his Feather Foot spell active but his pace slower, his senses tuned to every rustle and shadow. The forest was a death trap, and rushing blindly was a one-way ticket to a grave. The pillar of light loomed in the distance, its glow a constant pull, but survival came first.
Night fell, the forest alive with the chirping of insects and the distant howls of Arcane Beasts. Edwyn piled leaves beneath a massive oak, its roots forming a natural shelter, and settled in. The air was cool, a far cry from the Black Forest's bone-chilling winters, but a faint chill lingered. He uncorked a nutrient potion, grimacing at its taste, diluted vinegar mixed with fermented grass juice, like something a cow would spit out.
"Ugh, academy chefs need a demotion," he muttered, but warmth bloomed in his belly, banishing his hunger instantly. "Guess it does the job."
Exhaustion hit like a tidal wave, the day's fights and sprint weighing on his bones. But sleep was a luxury he couldn't afford, not in a forest crawling with predators. Instead, he crossed his legs and slipped into meditation, the Sea of Souls shimmering in his mind's eye, its starry expanse soothing his mental fatigue. On the airship, he'd learned two hours of meditation trumped eight hours of sleep, keeping him sharp in a place where a single mistake meant death. Plus, it boosted his Spiritforce, a win-win.
"Gotta stay frosty," he murmured. "No snoozing on the job."
But as he sank deeper, a guttural roar shattered the silence, echoing through the forest like a war drum. Edwyn's eyes snapped open, his hand instinctively gripping the dagger.
"Alright, who's ready to dance?" he said, his voice low and ready, the Infinite Forge pulsing in his soul like a heartbeat.