CHAPTER 15: SURVIVAL TRAIL (1)

Chapter 15 – Survival Trial (1)

The morning sun rose over Atlan City, casting golden rays upon the colossal Colosseum Arena. Its towering walls and engraved runes glimmered faintly as thousands of citizens gathered outside to witness the grand event. For the candidates inside, this was the most nerve-racking moment yet. The previous three trials had already weeded out more than half the hopefuls. Now, only the strong and determined remained.

Michael stood among the crowd of students, arms crossed, his hood pulled slightly forward. Around him, chatter filled the air: voices of excitement, fear, and bravado. Some clenched their fists, others muttered prayers, and a few simply smirked as though victory was already theirs.

"Three days..." Michael muttered under his breath. He already knew what was coming. This was not just another trial. It was the dividing line that would determine who had the qualifications to even dream of the Supreme Hall, and who would fade into obscurity.

The arena doors swung open, and silence descended upon the candidates. A ripple of oppressive mana spread across the space as Vice Principal Sophia Emberheart entered, her fiery crimson hair flowing behind her like a burning banner. She was a woman whose beauty was rivaled only by her authority, and with a single gaze she could quiet hundreds.

Her voice echoed, carried by a subtle spell so that every corner of the Colosseum could hear:

"Congratulations to those who have passed the first three trials. But do not grow complacent. What comes next will test not only your strength, but your resolve, your adaptability, and your instincts to survive. This is the Survival Trial."

The tension rose instantly, whispers buzzing as students glanced at one another.

Sophia continued, pacing slowly across the center stage. "You will be transported to a remote island created solely for this exam. Within its boundaries roam monsters ranging from Rank F to Rank D. Each kill you make will be recorded and rewarded with points."

With a flick of her wrist, glowing symbols appeared in the air:

F-rank beast: 50 points

E-rank beast: 100 points

D-rank beast: 500 points

"There are only twenty D-rank monsters across the island. Choose your hunts wisely. And remember this points are everything. Rankings will be updated in real time."

The crowd erupted in murmurs. Michael narrowed his eyes. Exactly as in the game. The strongest would clash over the D-rank beasts, and alliances will form and break apart in pursuit of them.

Sophia raised her hand, silencing the noise. Her next words carried a sharper edge.

"One more rule: Combat between candidates is not forbidden. If you believe you can overpower your opponent, then claim their prey, their resources, or even their lives—if you dare. But remember: death within the trial means elimination, nothing more. The revival wards will return you safely to the Colosseum. Choose your battles carefully."

A heavy silence followed. Everyone understood what that meant. It wasn’t just about monsters anymore—it was about survival against each other.

Then, in a smooth gesture, Sophia snapped her fingers. Out of thin air, glowing light coalesced around every candidate’s wrist. When it faded, each of them wore a sleek black smartwatch, humming faintly with mana.

"This device," she explained,

"is your lifeline. It will track your kills, display your score, and show real-time rankings of all participants. It will also signal when you’ve been eliminated. Guard it as carefully as your own weapon."

Michael inspected his. The moment it touched his skin, it bound to him with a faint surge of mana. The interface displayed his name:

Michael Willson – Points: 0 – Rank: N/A

Sophia’s gaze swept across the field one final time. "This trial will last for three days. Your only objective: survive, and score as high as you can. Now... begin."

She raised both hands. The Colosseum floor erupted in light as a massive teleportation array spread beneath the candidates. Runes blazed across the stone, forming intricate circles.

Michael exhaled slowly, his grip tightening around his sword hilt. Here we go.

In the blink of an eye, the light swallowed everything.

---

Arrival at the Island

The world reformed violently, like being thrust through a vortex. Michael landed on solid ground, his boots crunching against damp earth. He staggered slightly, then raised his head.

The scene before him was breathtaking.

The island stretched as far as his eyes could see, a vast wilderness teeming with danger. Towering snowy mountains loomed to the north, their peaks veiled in mist. To the east lay rolling green valleys, sunlight sparkling across rivers that cut through the land like silver veins. To the south sprawled a dense forest, dark and foreboding, where shadows moved even when the wind stood still. And to the west—grasslands and caves, the perfect breeding ground for packs of predators.

A low growl echoed in the distance. Then another. The island was alive.

Michael immediately recalled what he knew from the game. This island isn’t just a test ground. It’s a sealed dimension, bound by a high-level artifact called the Revival Zone. No one truly dies here. The moment your HP drops to zero, the artifact teleports you back to the Colosseum.

His hand tightened around his blade. But that doesn’t make it any less dangerous. Pain is real. Fear is real. And for many of them, failure here means the end of their future dreams.

He glanced at his smartwatch. A glowing compass-like arrow rotated faintly. It would guide him toward monster spawns—but only generally, not precisely. A faint smirk touched his lips. That’s fine. I don’t need it. I remember the spawn points, the hidden resources, the caches the devs slipped into this scenario. If I play my cards right, I’ll secure points faster than anyone else.

A rustle broke his thoughts.

Michael froze, turning his head. From the shadows of the forest, pairs of glowing red eyes emerged. The stench of beast filled the air.

He drew his blade in one smooth motion, the steel glinting faintly.

"F-rank wolves..." he muttered. Five of them padded out from the treeline, their bodies lean and muscular, saliva dripping from their fangs. Their growls reverberated, surrounding him.

The corner of Michael’s lips curved upward. Perfect warm-up.

The wolves lunged.

---

Across the Island

Elsewhere, the other candidates had been scattered across the vast wilderness.

Leon Lionheart stood at the edge of the snowy mountains, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. He gazed into the blizzard winds, muttering,

"This place... it’ll forge me sharper than ever before."

His crimson eyes glowed faintly, his Lionheart blood stirring with excitement.

Aiden Stromfang cracked his knuckles as arcs of lightning sparked faintly around him. The vast grasslands stretched ahead, and he grinned.

"Heh, wide open space? Perfect for me."

Selena Veylan, the princess of Denmard, moved silently through the forest, her shadow aura rippling faintly. She whispered softly,

"A Island with creepy environment, euuu"

Elara Moonshade, the elven princess, stood beneath towering trees, bow in hand. Her sharp eyes scanned the surroundings, every sense alert.

Edric William smirked arrogantly as he marched across the valley, his holy knight armor gleaming.

"This trial will prove my superiority. The rest are nothing but common trash."

And far away, Aurelia Miller adjusted her gloves, her eyes narrowing. She muttered, "I’ll prove my worth. No one will underestimate me."

The island was alive with tension, and soon, blood would paint the ground.

---

Back to Michael

The wolves pounced, claws slashing through the air. Michael’s sword flashed once—sharp, precise. A clean arc of steel severed the throat of the first wolf before it even landed. Blood sprayed, its body collapsing lifelessly.

The second wolf lunged from behind. Michael twisted smoothly, kicking off the ground, his blade sweeping in a perfect half-moon slash. The wolf’s head tumbled to the earth.

Three remained. Their eyes flickered with both rage and hesitation.

Michael exhaled, his body flowing with calm precision. Swordsmanship is about efficiency. No wasted movement, no hesitation.

He stepped forward, mana surging faintly into his blade. Frost bloomed along its edge, the air chilling instantly. "Frost Forge—Edge."

The blade cut horizontally. A wave of icy mana burst forth, freezing the ground in a narrow arc. The wolves yelped as the ice crept up their legs, locking them in place.

One by one, his sword flashed again. Clean, decisive strikes.

The battle was over in seconds.

Michael shook the blood from his blade and sheathed it. His smartwatch beeped.

+250 Points

Current Rank: 1st

A faint smile touched his lips. Good. This is only the beginning.

He glanced deeper into the forest. The faint growls of larger beasts echoed. His expression hardened.

Three days... Let’s see who truly deserves to rise.

And with that, Michael vanished into the trees, the hunt only just beginning.

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