"Did you see that?" One of the instructors murmured, arms crossed, eyes focused on the devastation Alex had left behind.
The corrupted beast lay still in the dirt, a broken wreck with caved-in features and twisted limbs. Blood soaked into the cracked earth around it. Standing tall amidst all that with a mad grin was Alex, breathing heavily but triumphantly.
"That boy's built different," another instructor muttered, impressed despite themselves.
Instructor Hale whistled low. "He didn't even use a weapon. Just his fists—and he's a plate-three magic swordsman. That's not something you see every day."
It might not sound impressive when all the students up for this test were plate three; even in the outside world, it might not be astounding since some students in the Royal Academy were third-circle mages or layer-three knights when they enrolled.
Still, the Vaise's powers bloom when they fight.
Their physique enables them to overpower even those who are stronger than they are.
However, that wasn't all, since the Vaise children's real growth starts after they leave the Cradle, because that is when they would seriously focus on cultivation.
After all, by now, they had all learned the skills they needed. What is left now is for them to grow and use those skills to the best of their capabilities.
Hamilton, hearing the comments of the other instructors, chuckled from behind them, still stroking his beard like a proud father. "Fists are enough when you've got a body like his."
Many who had seen Hamilton in action gulped as they recalled how Alex seemed like a mini version of Hamilton during those times.
"He's brute-forcing it," someone noted, tapping a pen against their clipboard. "Sure, it worked this time, but if that thing had speed on par with its strength—or worse, elemental resistance—he'd have been in trouble."
Hamilton didn't deny it. "Of course. That's why I've trained him to adapt. His body's a weapon, but he's learning control too." He paused, then added, "Still, can't deny he's a monster in a straight brawl."
The instructors nodded.
"Credit to you, Sir Hamilton," Hale said, offering a short, respectful nod. "That kid's got both the muscle and the guts. Not many his age would jump into a beast like that headfirst."
Hamilton just chuckled, gaze distant. "He's only just begun."
What Hamilton didn't tell them, however, was that, unlike him, who used tactics and strength to fight, Alex was more suited to the technique he had created.
After all, it was a technique that incorporated the wildlife, and no wild beast would use tactics.
Meanwhile, out in the scorched, rumbling vastness of the Ashen Expanse, the students were walking a little taller.
The tension in their steps had lessened, ever so slightly.
Where once they glanced nervously at every shadow and rock formation, now they carried a budding confidence—a dangerous but necessary arrogance earned by Alex's display.
"He really took that thing down," one student muttered.
"Think we can handle one too?" Another asked, nervously gripping his weapon.
Raven glanced back, eyes sweeping the group. "There'll be more. Beasts roam in higher numbers deeper in. Be ready."
True to his words, more came.
Just two hundred meters ahead, another corrupted beast prowled into view—a bipedal horror with elongated limbs and burning eyes. It let out a warbled screech, drool sizzling on the ground.
This time, two students stepped forward, exchanging glances before nodding. "Let's try," one of them said.
They moved together, striking with decent coordination. The fight wasn't flawless—one missed a strike, the other misjudged a dodge—but between them, they managed to bring the beast down.
Their breathing was ragged, their bodies scraped and tired, but their eyes gleamed with newfound courage.
From then on, the battles began flowing like a rhythm.
One by one, students stepped up—solo or in pairs—eager to test their mettle.
Some succeeded on the first try. Others stumbled, slipping on ash or underestimating the beasts' speed or endurance.
But whenever one fell, a teammate leaped in to assist—pulling them back or taking over the battle.
Jake saved a boy who'd been pinned, slicing a creature's throat with his blade while his own arm bled freely.
Clara skewered a beast mid-charge, then hauled the wounded attacker back to safety, grinning. "You owe me snacks when we get out of here."
It became a silent agreement among them all—when one fought, others watched. When one rested, others fought.
They rotated, taking shifts without being told to. The stronger ones offered tips, and the sharper ones watched patterns.
Eventually, they encountered the most dangerous wave yet—ten beasts, all corrupted beyond recognition, snarling and converging from the west ridge.
The students froze.
Ten.
Even with their confidence, this was pushing it.
Then Raven stepped forward. "Don't panic," he called out, his voice calm. "We're sixty strong."
The students remembered.
Fifteen teams had passed the previous trial. Four students per team. Sixty warriors in total.
"Team leaders, group your squads! Defense in the front and ranged at the back!" Raven shouted, his commanding tone cutting through the rising fear.
The students moved fast, coordination slipping into place. It wasn't perfect—but it was enough.
Spells flew. Blades flashed. Gauntlets smashed. And mana burst through the air.
The battle was chaotic, brutal, and loud—but in the end, they stood victorious.
Breathing hard, ash and blood coating their bodies, they looked at each other—and smiled.
They were tired, but they weren't broken.
"Rest up," Raven called, wiping sweat from his brow. "Next wave's not gonna wait forever."
Without realizing it, they were getting used to each other.
They were getting closer.
'Good,' Raven nodded as he looked at the scene before him.
Some children sat in circles, sharing water and cleaning weapons, while others patched each other with elementary healing spells. Laughter even rang out once or twice.
'This would give me some plot points, at the very least.'
He knew they weren't making much progress since the moment they started fighting in groups, the condition of killing beasts individually became null.
But they were making progress.
Many students, after learning from their mistakes, were hunting corrupted creatures alone.
Because of that, the plot where many students out of these sixty were supposed to fail improved instead.
The challenge wasn't over, but they were getting somewhere.
Instructors watched silently from afar.
"Looks like they're shaping up to be a real squad," Hale muttered.
"They're learning," another instructor said, ticking boxes on a sheet. "Not just how to fight, but how to trust."
Hamilton watched his student, who lay sprawled on a rock, arms behind his head, eyes closed in satisfaction.
A grin tugged at Hamilton's lips.
"They're learning what it means to survive," he murmured.
What they all remained oblivious to was something caused by their group movement.
The corrupted beasts, although low in intelligence, had instincts stronger than any other beast's.
They could all sense their loss if they tried to attack the group of children.
They could see how this area, which was supposed to be the outermost zone of the Ashen Expanse, also the territory of these low-ranked beasts, was turning into a hunting zone.
Right now, one of the few wolf-like corrupts that had run away from the group was dashing through the hot air of the Ashen Expanse, panting as it was tired from the battle against the children.
Suddenly, it stopped, skidding across the ground as it hesitated, staring at the rocky area before it.
The rocky area was where some of the few stronger corrupted beasts—real corrupted creatures—who were somehow left alive stayed.
However, corrupted creatures aren't friendly, so the wolf-like beast knew it could die. But as it recalled how helpless it was before, it stepped forward.
Whoosh!
The creature only took a step into the area, and the wind whistled.
"Grahhh!!"
Before the creature could even move, it found itself under the feet of a larger creature—a mix of a leopard and a lion.
"Grrrr..."
The creature growled, saliva dripping down its jaw.
To the larger one, the wolf-type beast was food to eat, but the wolf-type beast quickly explained what was happening, and the creature paused for a while.
It listened to all the wolf had to say before closing its eyes, and the wolf, who thought it might survive, sighed in relief.
"Growl!"
Only to see the beast opening its jaw, and before the wolf-beast could even react, its head was torn away from its body.
The larger beast stared at the wolf's corpse before its eyes turned toward the area it came running from.
"Grrrr..."
Growling, it turned around, going back into the area.
Its retreat, however, didn't seem like that of someone who had given up on something.
It seemed like it was planning something, and a corrupted creature capable of thinking had to be at least a four-star beast—not a creature the students could survive against.