The youths had ten minutes to recover from the tests when the groups were rotated again.

Dust still hung faintly in the air as the stones were placed back into their spots before the low platform, and Teclos stepped forward first for his group.

The five round boulders sat in front of him, ascending in size. Their surfaces were smooth and round.

He lifted the smallest boulder easily and placed it atop the platform fairly quickly.

The second also followed without a struggle.

By the third boulder, he needed a bit more push from his legs and back, but it too was placed atop the platform.

At the fourth, he strained himself visibly. Veins rose along his forearms and biceps, his jaw tightening as he shifted his grip twice before finally hoisting it chest-high and lifting it up.

The stone landed on the platform with a heavy thud, and Teclos took a deep breath.

His confidence waned with the fifth and last stone.

While he was approaching it, he tried to focus once more.

Cupping it from below, his fingers dug beneath its edge. With a last exhale, Teclos braced himself and lifted—

Getting it a few centimeters off the ground, then it rolled off his arms.

The next attempt.

His feet slid a bit closer, exhaling sharply, and he tried again. The boulder rose barely above his knees before it rolled off his arms again.

’Phew....damn, those things are heavy.’

Four out of five.

A respectable result.

Loric stepped forward next, cracking his neck as if already savoring the moment. He powered through the first three without even breaking a sweat. The fourth slowed him down a bit, but not for long.

When he reached the fifth stone, he did not hesitate. With a guttural growl, he dragged it upward, with trembling thighs and shaking shoulders.

For a second, it looked as if he would lose it—

But he persevered and pushed it just high enough so that it rolled onto the platform.

After a hissing exhale and some deep breaths, Loric turned toward Ralph and Teclos with a smug grin, brushing dirt from his palms.

"All five," he muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear.

"That showoff actually managed to do it..."

Ralph said, stepping forward after him.

The first two were easy, but by the third he lost steam, with his breathing already getting ragged.

The fourth stone barely left the ground, and his arms shook violently. He tried to push more but couldn’t, releasing the stone back with a thud.

A deep frown plastered his face, frustration written all over it.

Only three.

The second strength discipline began immediately after they finished.

A natural boulder lay on a round track, promising to be a challenge. It was uncut and unpolished, the stone awkward to lift and hold onto.

Teclos bent, locked his arms around it, and lifted. The weight crushed into his chest, forcing his breathing to be shallow and quick. He gritted his teeth and began walking.

Each step was excruciating torture—he made it past ten, fifteen, twenty meters.

When he was about fifteen meters behind Gillard’s record, his legs began to shake. He fought for one more step—

But then dropped it.

As he did, he staggered and fell on his back, his chest heaving heavily and sweating profusely.

Next up was Loric.

Smug from the previous discipline, he confidently stepped up.

But just two meters behind Gillard’s record, he collapsed forward, letting it fall with a heavy thud.

He had beaten almost everyone, and yet his expression was like he had just eaten shit.

"Dammit! Two meters... just two more goddamn meters!" he spat under his breath.

Ralph’s attempt was unremarkable. Average among the boys. Neither shameful nor impressive.

The final test awaited: the rectangular chiseled block of hard stone.

Teclos approached it; by now his arms felt like sponges, soft and mushy. Squatting low, his arms wrapping around the edges, he got ready. With a sharp exhale, he tried to lift it, muscles screaming in protest as the stone rose slowly.

For a single triumphant second, it almost stood upright, and he just had to push it a bit more.

Then his strength vanished.

He fell backward onto the dirt, the block slamming down beside him as he lay staring at the sky, heaving profusely, sweat pouring as if rain had broken over him.

Again, Loric stepped in, full of confidence.

As he set himself into position, hands under the stone and knees bent, he exploded off the ground with a decisive lift. Similar to Gillard, the stone stood upright and then toppled over with a resounding crash.

Ralph was the last of the three. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

The stone did not even move.

Everyone in their group finished the strength test, and just as they did, the running group returned. Dust-covered and drenched in sweat, Gillard came in second—only a few seconds behind a black-haired girl.

Gillard collapsed onto his back, staring up at the sky.

"...Tch. I’m second..." he muttered.

The girl merely smiled faintly, hands on her knees.

By the time all three disciplines concluded, even the most energetic among them were drained.

Brahm stepped forward, arms crossed.

"Twenty-minute break. Drink some water and sit down."

The yard dissolved into collapsed bodies and heavy breathing.

Teclos, Ralph, and Gillard found shade beneath the apple tree near the edge of the grounds.

Ralph leaned back against the trunk. "Damn, strength test lowered all my scores."

Teclos huffed a laugh. "Yeah, maybe start lifting weights then."

Ralph pointed out, "May I remind you that you lost to Loric just now."

Teclos grimaced.

Gillard stretched his legs out. "You are fast, I’ll give you that." He glanced at Teclos. "And annoyingly consistent in every discipline."

Ralph smirked. "Except when it comes to lifting something heavy, he isn’t."

Gillard rolled his shoulders. "Well, that’s my territory."

"Punching too, man—you destroyed that dummy," Teclos admitted.

Gillard allowed himself a faint grin. "Obviously."

Ralph sighed. "I’m just... never first, dammit."

They sat in companionable silence for a moment, catching their breath.

"Don’t be a wimp," Gillard said calmly. "You got your own strength."

Teclos raised a brow. "His strength is being a wimp... it’s how he gets his ladies to punch him in the face."

"Well, at least I’m interested in them. I’m not so sure about you anymore, though."

"Wha—"

Then the bell-like strike of metal carried across the yard.

Brahm had returned.

"Break is over."

Groans erupted, but they rose regardless.

"Form lines, we will march now."

Confused looks spread among the youths.

Brahm turned northward and began walking.

Five hunters fell into step behind him, and the group reluctantly followed.

They passed through the northern gate and into the forest. After an hour and a half of steady marching, the trees thinned.

A massive mountain wall rose before them, imposing.

The line halted, and Brahm barked out orders.

Hunters moved immediately, anchoring ropes high above along the face of the cliff. Each rope extended down the hundred-meter stretch to a narrow ledge visible near the top.

"Climbing?" Ralph muttered. "Why?"

"To waste our time?" Loric offered bitterly.

Brahm turned to the youths.

"From your expressions, it’s clear you are wondering why this matters."

His gaze swept across them.

"In battle, mana runs dry. When that happens, your body remains your only tool. And high ground means survival in a lot of cases."

He paced back and forth a bit, then continued.

"Firstly and simply, climbing preserves mana."

"Secondly, some beasts sense distortions in the air when mana is used. A hunter who moves silently along the wall is harder to detect."

"Ambushes require elevation."

"Looking for herbs, nests, carcasses—being high above ground gives you a nice vantage point and overview."

He let the silence settle.

"So yes. You climbing isn’t a waste of time."

The ropes were secured.

"We will make teams again, five at a time. One thing to note is that the rope is for safety only. You will not use it; if you do, you fail."

He pointed upward.

"One hundred meters to that ledge. That is your goal."

Names were called.

Some barely made five meters before freezing in fear. Others slipped. A few climbed steadily but faltered near the outward bulge at fifty meters.

Eventually—

Teclos and Ralph were called.

They stepped forward, harnessed and ready to climb.

Then their eyes met.

"This time I’ll beat you," Ralph said seriously.

"Hah! You can try."

Brahm gave the signal to start.

They bolted onto the wall fast—hands finding purchase quickly, and their feet pushing forward.

At fifty meters, the wall leaned outward, and they adjusted smoothly.

Behind them, only Sammara remained climbing above the fifty mark.

At seventy meters, the difficulty spiked even more.

Holds narrowed and the wall leaned toward them.

Their legs burned.

Sammara slipped at seventy, the rope catching her as she gasped, exhausted.

But Ralph and Teclos were not done yet.

Ninety meters.

Ninety-five.

Both were so focused on reaching the top, they didn’t register the cheers coming from below.

Ninety-nine meters.

As they neared the finish, Ralph led by half a meter.

And that half-meter was all he needed.

He pulled himself onto the ledge first.

"YES!" he shouted, pumping his fist in triumph. "Finally!"

Teclos hauled himself up seconds later, breathing heavily.

Ralph laughed, triumphant and insufferable.

Teclos muttered under his breath, already knowing he would never hear the end of this.

The applause from below was scattered but genuine.

Ralph stood near the edge of the ledge, his chest rising and falling in sharp pulls, arms lifted high as if he had just conquered the mountain itself.

"Did you see that?!" he shouted down, grinning like a madman. "I told you I would win! In your face, haha!"

His voice echoed faintly off the ledge and drifted back toward the people far below.

Teclos rolled onto his back, staring up at the thin strip of sky above the cliff. His fingers trembled—from exertion. His forearms felt flayed open from the inside. Every flex sent a dull burn up to his shoulders.

"You were half a step faster," he muttered.

"A win is a win," Ralph replied immediately, dropping down beside him. He leaned back on his palms and looked over, still flushed with victory. "And I’ll savor this one."

Teclos snorted. "Enjoy it while it lasts."

A gust of wind swept across the ledge, cool and sharp, drying the sweat on their skin and replacing the heat with some much-needed freshness. From up here, the people looked small, and the view was breathtaking.

A hunter stepped closer, offering each of them a firm nod. "Nicely done. You both adjusted well at the overhang."

Ralph straightened a bit at that. Praise from a hunter was no small thing.

"You nearly lost your footing at seventy meters," the hunter added casually.

Ralph blinked. "I—"

"But you recovered well," the man finished.

Teclos smirked faintly. "Nearly."

"Oh, shut up, second place," Ralph muttered.

Below, more youths attempted the climb. One slipped at the fifty-meter bulge and swung awkwardly on the rope, legs kicking until a wind-aligned hunter gently redirected him toward the wall to descend safely. Another froze halfway up, clinging to the stone with wide, terrified eyes. Gillard and Loric made it to the seventy-meter mark but then slipped and fell down.

Teclos watched in silence.

From up here, the wall didn’t look as merciless as it had from below.

He sat up, resting his forearms on his knees. "You were good," he admitted quietly.

Ralph’s grin softened. "You too."

For a brief second, Teclos thought that the rivalry faded.

Then Ralph added, "But alas, I was better than you. Better luck next time, you slowpoke."

Teclos threw a small pebble at him.

"Oi!"

Two more trainees reached the ledge and barely crawled over the edge, shaking. One lay flat immediately, staring at nothing. The other laughed in disbelief, high on adrenaline.

Eventually, their names were called.

Teclos leaned forward instinctively.

Brahm signaled for them to go down. As everyone finished their attempts at climbing, all four tied the rope around themselves again and began their assisted descent.

The hunters held them steady and slowly lowered them down the wall.

Ralph laughed at Gillard for falling at the seventy mark.

"Why did you have to let him win? He’s like an annoying fly buzzing around now."

"Well, I tried, you know," shrugged Teclos.

"Guess some of us are born to stay on top... and some just slip off the wall and fall," jabbed Ralph again.

This time Teclos punched him in the shoulder, and Gillard kicked him in the shin.

"Oi! Stop hitting me!" Ralph complained.

Gillard glanced at him. "You have a punchable face."

Teclos laughed. "Yeah, and we are restraining ourselves a lot already."

Brahm then gathered everyone again and gave the order to march back to the town.

The hunters directed them toward a narrow switchback path carved into the mountain’s side—a flatter route back toward Kolma.

By the time they reached the town again, the afternoon sun had shifted noticeably.

And Brahm stood waiting, with arms folded behind his back.

He surveyed them all—dust-covered, sweat-soaked, breathing hard.

He was ready to announce the final discipline.