Is he trying to start a war?!

Inside one of the large rooms at Stalefort Academy, there’s a space reserved just for the teachers—a place where they can kick back and relax.

But today, it’s anything but relaxed. If you look around, you’d see the room packed with teachers from all different grades, ranks, and abilities. Some are sitting on chairs, others leaning on canes while standing, and some... well, some are just sitting cross-legged in mid-air. Yup, floating in the air.

They’re all waiting for something to begin.

At the front, sitting proudly on a big ornate chair right in the center, is a man with a long beard so full of gray hairs that it looks like every strand is stamped with time itself.

He’s wearing glasses perched on eyes that have seen many years—the wrinkles and signs of age framing them. Around him, there’s this weird, different kind of aura, something that sets him apart from everyone else. Sitting on either side of him are two other teachers whose presence is almost as imposing, though just a bit less intense. Together, these three radiate the kind of authority only kings could dream of.

Despite the heavy atmosphere that might make a stranger uneasy, the room buzzes with low whispers here and there. Everyone’s talking about the same thing—something about to begin. Everyone’s waiting.

But there’s something odd about the crowd. Sure, they’re expecting something to start, but none of them show the spark of excitement. No one looks eager, on the edge of their seat, or barely able to contain their anticipation. Instead, their eyes are empty, almost like they’ve seen this all before—over and over—and they already know what’s going to happen next.

Those whispers? They’re not arguments or debates. Quietly, the teachers are placing bets—who will survive, who will run away, who will fight.

All their thoughts circle around one thing: what’s about to start soon—the brutal second stage of the hellish Stalefort Academy entrance exam.

“The Forest Trial.”

Moments later, a huge screen flickered to life at the front of the room. Even if you were at the back, you could see everything crystal clear.

With the screen’s glow, the whispers died down. The old man in the chair finally spoke, his voice heavy and unsteady as he announced the start of the decisive trial.

“Good luck to all of you.”

Wishing the candidates luck, the supervisors took their seats and started watching closely.

---

Back to Shiro, somewhere deep in the forest. After teleporting through one of those strange portals, he started scanning his surroundings—looking left and right.

All he saw were those colossal trees towering over him like giants. If you stood next to one, you’d look like an ant.

They were called Sherminian trees—by far the tallest things Shiro had ever seen in his life. Bigger than ten houses stacked on top of each other, some even half the size of the massive academy building itself. These trees were scattered all over the forest, which was huge—way bigger than even one of the capitals in the kingdom of Linderia.

A forest that huge isn’t just filled with one type of tree, obviously. There were pine trees, resin trees, and all kinds of others. It was the main source of useful medicinal herbs for the academy’s region.

But the forest wasn’t just about herbs. It was also the primary source of fruits and meat. Not the only source of food, but it was so rich that it could export enough food to all the kingdoms all year round.

Yet, nothing good comes without risks. If you want something valuable, you gotta put your life on the line a little. The forest was crawling with dangerous monsters—some high-level, some low-level—along with predatory beasts and even carnivorous plants.

This forest was the perfect place to hunt for medicinal and food loot, but also the perfect place to bite the dust.

Shiro started moving, settling next to a massive Sherminian tree. From a short distance, you wouldn’t even notice someone standing beside it unless you really focused.

He sat down by the tree, dropped his bag, and pulled out his map. Then, his heart nearly jumped out of his chest.

“Huh?!!”

The map—supposed to show a proper top-down view of the forest—was completely blank. No lines, no markings. Just a fresh, white sheet with no ink on it.

“No, no, no, is this some kind of prank?!”

Before the shock could fully hit him and make him lose his mind, strange lines started appearing. From the center of the page, they slowly spread out to the edges, sketching hills, lakes... and within moments, the map was ready, showing the entire forest.

Just thinking about the size of that monstrous forest, and that he’d have to navigate it without knowing what he’d face or where to go, sent a cold shiver down his spine.

Shiro took a deep breath, steadying himself, and focused back on the map.

Two rivers, a giant plateau that looked like a mountain, a wide open area with no trees, and a spot marked with a glowing symbol.

Those were the main landmarks on the map, especially that glowing spot—which looked like the additional supply area Supervisor Shin mentioned.

Hmm, it’s risky going there right now.

He thought to himself, realizing that everyone else would probably rush straight to the supply area once the test started, chasing after the food. Going there now would mean running into powerful people—maybe even Leo. But facing one friend versus potentially over 300 enemies stronger than him? No contest.

So Shiro decided to avoid that area for now and started looking for other decent spots on the map. He scanned here and there, only to find... well, something he probably expected from the start.

"There’s nowhere safe to go. All these places are exposed and likely crawling with predators!”

Shiro recalled reading about the Silverpet Forest in that guidebook— this forest, marked as one of the red zones in the world where only high-level fighters are allowed to enter. The chances of massacres and certain death there were way higher than most dungeons out there.

It looked like a dungeon all on its own.

They say it was created using ancient magic—one so powerful it took over six hundred elven mages and witches to complete. Some even lost their lives during the ritual, their mana running dry before the spell could finish. When that happened, the spell began draining their life force instead, using it as fuel.

“Why would anyone willingly enter a place like this in the first place? No, seriously—why the hell would the academy even think of using this as an exam ground?”

By reading through the documents, Shiro had already learned where the most dangerous monsters resided—minotaurs, typhons, gyorks, and others like them.

Yeah… he knew exactly which areas to avoid.

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“I may not have amazing powers, but I’ve got a brain. A little bit of good intel goes a long way. The problem isn’t just the location anymore… it’s how I’m supposed to survive in here.”

That was Shiro’s current train of thought. As long as he knew where the dangerous spots were, choosing a place to hide shouldn’t be a big deal. The real issue… was other people. People who’d come for the badge on his shoulder. Some of them wouldn’t hesitate to hurt him. Others might let him off easy. Either way, he wasn’t planning to hand over his badge without a fight. And neither would they.

One thing was clear—Shiro’s mind was completely focused on just one goal: survival.

He wasn’t thinking about attacking others or collecting badges, even though that was the entire point of the test—to survive with your badge while collecting others’.

After thinking it over for a while, he closed the map, pulled out a rope, and tied it to a hook he found it inside his bag.

Slipping on his bag, he began scanning the area for a sturdy branch to hook onto. Didn’t take long to find one—it wasn’t exactly close to the ground, but it wasn’t completely out of reach either. He didn’t have the luxury of wasting time searching for a better one, especially with that ominous feeling hanging in the air.

With a deep breath, he started tossing the hook. Once. Twice. Over and over again.

His throws were inconsistent—sometimes strong, sometimes not nearly enough. But in the end, he got it. Once he was sure it was secure, he wasted no time and began climbing up as fast as he could.

“First things first, I need to get away from those lunatics, figure out where I am on the map, and then I can decide what to do next.”

Climbing at full speed, he finally reached the thick branch after what felt like forever. He pulled himself up, sat on it carefully—it didn’t even wobble.

Stronger than it looked. Taller too.

“As expected of this weird type of tree. Alright… let’s see what I can see from up here.”

Even the lowest branch of the tree gave him a clear view of a massive chunk of the forest. It didn’t take him long to spot one of the rivers—it was to the north, cutting through the edge of the woods. The glowing marker on the map, however, was to the south… the complete opposite direction.

“Hm… even if I wanted to go get supplies, I wouldn’t make it in time. Not that it matters—I wasn’t planning to head there in the first place. But I also can’t just sit here and do nothing.”

The reason Shiro was even considering skipping out on food—despite it being crucial to surviving long-term—was because, compared to everyone else, he was at a serious disadvantage.

Let’s not sugarcoat it—he was weak.

That weakness limited his options. While others could move across the map like queens on a chessboard, he was more like a pawn—slow, cornered, and completely dependent on others making mistakes for him to have a shot.

His situation? Desperate.

But strangely enough, he didn’t feel hopeless. Not entirely. His mind kept spinning, looking for any path to survival.

Maybe—just maybe—if he conserved his energy while everyone else ran around exhausting themselves over the next few brutal days…

And with food growing scarce…

Maybe then, he’d stand a chance against them.

As Shiro lost himself in thought, wondering how he’d survive five whole days, a thunderous explosion echoed across the area, shaking the entire forest.

"What the hell was that?! The test hasn’t even started yet!!"

Clinging to the branch with his legs shaking, one arm wrapped tightly around his bag—which almost slipped right off—Shiro looked up, wide-eyed, only to find the source of the explosion uncomfortably close. Way too close. Close enough to see what caused it: a clash between two students, clearly fighting over each other’s badges.

"...Already? Seriously?"

He let out an irritated, sarcastic mutter as he watched the two go at it. Before he could even process the scene, another explosion erupted. A blast wave tore through the air, sending one of the combatants flying out of the smoke. The poor guy slammed into the very tree Shiro was perched on, causing it to shudder from the impact.

"Oh, this is bad. The fight's coming this way. Alright, don’t move. Don’t breathe. Pretend you don’t exist. Actually, yeah, stop existing entirely."

He whispered to himself like he was reciting survival instructions. Peering down, he spotted the guy who’d been flung—the one with ash-covered brown hair—collapsed and unconscious at the base of the tree.

That’s when the second student appeared, flames coiling around his arm, still burning with reckless intensity. His uniform was extravagant, pristine, a total flex. And that grin? That smug, punchable, noble grin?

Yeah. No doubt about it. He was a noble.

The noble stepped over the fallen boy and casually yanked the badge from his chest. He clutched it in his palm with a satisfied smirk, glanced around, then raised his arm again. Fire gathered in his hand before erupting in a fiery burst, launching him into the air like a human missile.

"Oh, you idiot—! You’re gonna attract everything in the damn forest!"

Gripping the trembling branch with all his might, Shiro cursed under his breath. His gaze shifted back to the brown-haired student sprawled beneath him.

"Nope. It’s not safe here anymore."

Decision made, he grabbed his pack, double-checked the area, then used his rope hook to descend quickly and quietly. Once on the ground, he approached the unconscious student cautiously.

The guy’s clothes were singed, barely hanging on him, and tiny flames still danced on parts of his uniform. One look was all it took to realize—anyone who could cause that kind of damage was not someone you wanted to meet in a dark dungeon. Or even a well-lit forest.

Shiro was shocked, yeah. But also… not. He knew there would be people like that here. And probably even worse.

"So this is what I’m up against... Great. Well, thanks to that idiot, I’m gonna have to move earlier than I planned. That explosion’s gonna bring monsters. Or worse."

Tightening the strap of his bag over his shoulder, Shiro turned toward the northern river and took off, weaving between the trees at full sprint. Every few minutes, he’d pause to scan the surroundings—listening, watching—before moving again.

"I know the river might attract other students, but I need more open space. If I run into another idiot like that one in a tight spot, I’m toast. Literally."

What surprised Shiro this time wasn’t another explosion. Or an enemy. It was his own thoughts.

The idea that he could actually fight.

Truth was, Shiro had the kind of mind that could turn anything into an advantage. And if no advantage existed? He’d create one. Of course, he didn’t realize this about himself. Not yet.

This was the first time his instincts were being tested. For real. Life or death. Future or failure.

And yet…

"Okay, I probably shouldn’t say this out loud, but—I’m a little proud of myself. Maybe I do have something that’ll keep me alive in here."

He grinned, half-winded but thrilled, whispering to himself.

But just how far could a clever mind carry him?

---

Far away from the chaos of the forest, inside the Academy itself—this time, in a room far more intimidating than any teacher’s lounge—sat a chamber layered in protective enchantments. On one of the upper floors of the massive building, this high-security room was covered in invisible seals capable of nullifying any spell, skill, or superhuman ability, no matter how powerful. Even the guards outside—hulking, silent, and expressionless—stood watch with unwavering focus.

Inside the room, two of the most influential figures in the world sat with their respective entourages. Draped in regal garments and seated on ornate, gem-inlaid chairs, they stared into a floating crystal that projected a live feed of everything happening in the forest below.

On the left sat the King of Linderia—also known as the Dragon King. His fiery red hair flowed all the way down to his back, and his eyes matched the intensity of burning coals. One glare from him could melt your confidence on the spot. And yet, despite all that raw intensity, King Bildora wore nothing but a gentle, almost cheerful smile.

He had the aura of a monarch, sure. But he also had the warmth of a seasoned leader—a man adored by his people, admired for his unwavering positivity even in the worst of times. That balance earned him their loyalty. And it kept his opposition minimal.

Seated beside him was the polar opposite.

With skin pale as bone and a heart even blacker, the second figure exuded darkness. Short black hair, pitch-black eyes with golden irises glowing faintly at the center. He leaned against his armrest with a bored, mildly annoyed look.

A Demon King—ruler of Luthiria.

King Dermid.

The room, draped in their overlapping auras, was one of absolute tension. One mistake here... could lead to a catastrophe no one was ready for.

The relationship between Linderia and Luthiria wasn’t exactly close. But it wasn’t hostile either. Sure, Luthiria held deep grudges against Wysperia. And yes, the Dragon King was known to be close allies with Wysperia’s monarch. But even then, Dermid never moved against Linderia. No matter how powerful your kingdom was, it made no sense to make enemies of everyone.

Dermid was well aware of it—but that wouldn’t stop him from raising the banner of war against Linderia should they cross the line.

The two kings sat side by side, their gazes fixed on a crystal-linked screen projecting and recording what was happening deep inside the forest. Silence ruled the chamber, but tension boiled beneath the surface. With Dermid’s infamous temper, a single misstep could spark a war no one wanted.

And then, sometime after the trial had begun, the King of Linderia—perhaps recklessly, by some standards—decided it was time to break the silence.

“Oh, Dermid? I heard you’re having trouble finding teachers for your magic academies, isn’t that right? Well, I know all too well how backwards your education standards are. So I figured—we could send over a few properly cultured instructors to help you out. Just say the word and we’ll be there.”

With a smug grin, Bildora delivered those words, loud and clear, his voice laced with mockery and pride. His personal guards flinched. So did Dermid’s.

That word—backwards—landed like a boulder in the hearts of those standing guard. Everyone in the room knew the truth: Luthiria, Dermid’s kingdom, possessed an enormous army and exceptionally strong magic users. But it also struggled to properly educate its newer generations. The sheer pace at which young talents developed left no time for structured learning, and there simply weren’t enough qualified instructors to keep up with them.

Linderia, on the other hand—despite its relatively small army—was the undisputed leader in magical prowess. Pure skill-wise, they even outclassed Luthiria. And now, its king was offering help to the proud, short-tempered ruler of Luthiria? To say it looked like a flex would be an understatement.

It was a joke. A dangerous one—maybe even deadly.

As Bildora chuckled softly to himself, having dropped his “offer” with that ever-cheerful grin, Dermid slowly lifted his head from his hand. His eyes—sharp enough to split mountains—turned to his fellow monarch.

At that moment, one of the guards standing by Bildora’s side instinctively placed a hand on the hilt of his sword. It was a subtle motion, but one that didn’t go unnoticed. Every guard in the room picked up on it, and suddenly, hands were drifting toward weapons, breaths held, as if the room itself were bracing for the war about to erupt.

A few seconds passed in deafening silence, and then—finally—Dermid opened his mouth to speak. His words would decide the fate of thousands—no, millions.

“…Save your generosity.”.

His voice was calm. Uncharacteristically so. His answer, expected yet terrifying, brought the room back from the edge of destruction.

“Oh? Well, no worries. I was just trying to be helpful,” Bildora replied lightly. “The offer stands, of course—if you ever change your mind.”

And just like that, peace returned to the hall. Guards slowly released the grips on their weapons. The sound of collective exhalation filled the space as eyes turned back toward the crystal screen, silently praying that Bildora would resist the urge to joke like that ever again.

Seems Dermid was in a good mood today.

---

—Meanwhile, back in the forest, with Shiro...

Six hours had passed since the trial began. The sounds of explosions had become frequent now, echoing through the forest. Fortunately for Shiro, all that chaos was happening far from his current location—by the edge of a lake, where he crouched behind a tree, quietly observing the area.

“…Weird. No one’s here. I thought this place would be crawling with people. Maybe I’m just lucky today?”

The lake flowed gently into a stream, slicing the forest down the middle. There were barely any trees around it, and the one Shiro hid behind was already some distance away from the water.

From his point of view, the clearing around the lake looked like a perfect battlefield—wide open, no cover. The kind of place that screamed mass grave.

“…Okay, seriously. I need to stop thinking like that.”

After waiting and watching for half an hour, Shiro finally decided to move. He rushed to the water’s edge and crouched down, dipping his fingers into the crystal-clear water.

It was…pure. So clean you could see fish swimming near the bottom. Something about it just invited him to drink. And so, thinking he might’ve just found a safe water source—no need to trek all the way to the supply zone—he took a sip.

“…Whoa. That’s actually really good.”

“Mhm. It might just be the cleanest water in the world.”

“Seriously? I wonder where it comes from?”

“It flows from the sea surrounding the island. But for some reason, it’s drinkable here—unlike the salty ocean water.”

“Huh… That’s kinda weird, but good to kn—wait, wait, hold up!”

A few seconds too late, Shiro realized someone was standing right beside him.

—or rather, some kind of monsters was.

One glance was enough. The golden, wavy hair. The shining white armor. The beautifully engraved sword at her hip.

There she was. The last person anyone—especially Shiro—wanted to run into.

She wasn’t just any pretty knight. She was the Silent Blade.

Alice Amisawa Takemikazuchi.