The blue light faded, and Serpentwood resolved itself in harsh, immediate detail: trunks thicker than wagons, bark furrowed and blackened at the base, and a canopy so dense it cut the day into green dusk. Leaves the size of shields hung low; a damp smell rose from the undergrowth. Thin shafts of sunlight pried through only in scattered lines that moved as the canopy breathed.

Eric steadied his footing against the aftershock of teleportation. The ground underfoot felt different here—soft with moss and spongy roots that snagged boot soles. His head was light for a moment; several of his knights squinted and swallowed hard. One near him made a small noise and steadied himself on his spear.

"What was that?"

"We’re in the forest."

"How did we get here?"

The knights were confused and Eric gathered himself before he looked at everyone else.

Carlos, by contrast, hit the ground on his back and blinked, then laughed roughly as he pushed himself up. The Esmertia knights around him recovered already, slapping armor, checking weapons with quick, impatient movements. Where Eric had looked to his men first, Carlos looked to the path ahead.

"Is everyone all right?" Eric asked.

"I feel a little woozy." One of the knights said.

"I’m fine," Carlos claimed with his face already drained of color.

"Whoever is not feeling well, please take some rest." Eric suggested and Carlos frowned.

"No! We have only 5 hours to finish this Trial. We have to return before the clock strikes 5 in the evening, so, no rest." Carlos snapped.

The Esmertia knights gathered themselves and got to their feet looking at Carlos and they started moving away from Eric and his knights. Eric watched them all leave before he decided to just focus on his set of knights.

"If you’re all not feeling well, we can rest for a bit more time." Eric said empathetically.

"No, Your Highness," Sir Robin Miles, the Vice-Captain of the Fairisles Knights order said as he got to his feet.

"We’re fine, let’s start."

The knights got to their feet and Eric smiled.

"Thank you, but we need a plan before that on how we would deal with the hurdles that come ahead."

The knights nodded and Eric picked up a stick from the ground before he made a rough map of the forest that was given to them earlier.

"We start here," he placed the tip of the stick at the beginning point before moving it over the route, "and we move from this thick part of the forest and reach before this valley, we have to then take a detour and cross the river before we finally reach the hill and then our destination."

One of knights frowned as he saw a better and easier route and he pointed at it.

"Your Highness, I think we should go from here. If we go through the valley, it will save time, we have to walk all the way through the forest again and it will only waste time which we don’t have." He pointed at the route that went through the forest alongside the hills.

"We can’t," Eric said, "Mas-Marquis Ocean had mentioned that there would be monsters whom we would encounter and they would be tough to deal with. So, we need a better geographical advantage to make sure that we reach our destination safely."

"But, we don’t know what kind of monsters it would be so, how could we already predict which area is advantageous and which isn’t?" The same knight questioned.

"I agree, Your Highness," Sir Miles said, "We don’t have any knowledge on the monsters."

Eric smiled, "These are the Trials so, Marquis wouldn’t have put any dangerous ones, but they would be tough to defeat and we might get injured. The valley,"

Eric placed the tip of his stick on the valley area, "is narrow enough like a trap, we would save time if we go from there but if we do get caught with some monsters there then the casualty chances are a lot and I don’t want that."

"How can you be so sure?" Another knight asked.

Eric gave them a knowing smiled, "Because I know that these Trials aren’t to kill us, they are only to test us. I just have to be calm and give it my all, if I’m not serious then it’s my own loss."

"Then, what kind of monsters should we expect, Your Highness?" Sir Miles asked.

Eric pondered over it for a moment and glanced at the sections that were included in the Trials.

"We have the selected section so, it’s easy to predict what we type of monsters we might encounter." Eric said.

He then made a brief plan on what type of monsters he thought could encounter and likewise they made a strategy for the possibilities.

Eric and Sir Miles instructed the knights accordingly, it took them a few minutes till they were ready to move and the audience along with Ocean watched them from the amphitheatre as numerous Viewing Orbs followed them around.

Carlos and his team had already entered the forest, choosing the shorter route that cut straight through the woodland, the valley, and the hill beyond.

The light inside Serpentwood was dim, shifting in bands through the canopy. Every sound echoed — the low creak of branches, the damp squelch of moss under boots, the faint hiss of leaves rubbing against one another.

Sir Jerkil Cronin, the Captain of the Esmertia Knights, walked ahead with measured steps, scanning the undergrowth. His armor was scuffed from older battles, his sword drawn but lowered. He had fought in enough campaigns to know when silence meant danger.

"Your Highness, we mustn’t venture out like this," he said without turning. "We need a strategy. The terrain is unknown."

"There is only one strategy," Carlos muttered, one hand tight around his sword hilt. "Whatever monster shows its face, kill it and keep moving. I must win this Trial at any cost."

Sir Cronin slowed. "We cannot just-"

A sharp crunch cut him off.

Everyone froze.

Ocean and the Mage’s Tower had used the idea of the shifters to fit the forest landscape. The monsters that attacked were the clones created by the Mages using the bodies of the dead rogue shifters that they had found. There were a few hounds and bears that were set loose on the field along with Ocean’s personal Damage Control team who were going to be there to make sure nobody dies.

The Aether Screens hovering above the amphitheatre shifted, both halves glowing to life. On the left was Carlos’s route, deep inside the darker section of the forest. On the right shimmered Eric’s feed, lighter by comparison where the canopy thinned.

The audience murmured, the sound a mix of awe and unease. The camera orbs adjusted themselves, zooming in and out of focus as the hounds moved through the brush on Carlos’s side.

A growl came through the amplifiers—low, distorted, real enough to make several spectators flinch.

Carlos’s unit stopped. From above, the knights looked like scattered pieces of dark armor glinting between ferns. One of them turned toward a noise; the image refocused, catching the moment a hound shot out of the undergrowth. Its movement was fast and heavy—black hide glinting like oiled leather, fangs bared, claws raking over moss.

Carlos’s voice carried, amplified slightly, sharp with fear disguised as command.

"Form around me! Don’t let them through!"

On-screen, his knights shifted position, forming a partial ring. Another hound leapt into the frame; a knight raised his shield too late. The impact sent him sprawling. The image jolted as another orb followed the motion—showing three more beasts crashing into the group from the opposite side.

The audience gasped collectively.

"Shield wall!" someone shouted from within the projection—Sir Cronin’s voice.

Ocean’s gaze remained fixed on the screen, his hands clasped loosely behind his back. He had went up to the podium where Roan waited to assist him.

From Ocean’s vantage, it was all clear: the formation never held. Carlos stayed two paces behind the others, swinging wildly when anything came close. His strikes were shallow, desperate—cutting at the air more than the monsters. His fire mana was there but it was weak and since the leaves and the atmosphere held more moisture, nothing was catching fire. Serpentwood forest was an evergreen forest which quickly gained its wet green blanket back right at the time when spring begins arriving in the kingdom.

The bear-like creature entered moments later, its broad shoulders breaking small trees as it moved.

Roger leaned forward, elbows on his knees. The nobles whispered amongst themselves:

"Too disordered."

"He’s rushing."

"At least he’s not frozen."

The bear caught a knight with one swipe, sent him crashing into a log. For a moment, the projection blurred from the dust. Then it cleared—showing the Captain rallying the men, yelling for a flank. Carlos’s figure moved backward again, away from the main fight.

Ocean’s eyes flicked to the time sigil hovering faintly at the top corner of the projection—barely twenty minutes into the Trial.

"Already losing rhythm," Roan murmured beside him.

Ocean gave no reply.

The camera orbs changed focus. The left screen dimmed slightly as the right brightened—Eric’s feed filled the amphitheatre.

The same hounds charged. The angle widened, showing their approach from between trees. The first knight on Eric’s flank met the attack with a shield, his partner driving a spear from behind. Eric’s voice came through clear, unshaken:

"Two to each side. Hold the circle. Wait for my signal."

His men obeyed instantly. Every shift in their movement was deliberate, trained.

The bear appeared there too, breaking from behind a trunk. But Eric didn’t back away. He pointed once, and three archers moved right. Eric lifted his hand, sparks forming a tight, pulsing sphere before bursting against the creature’s flank.

The crowd quieted, watching.

Where Carlos’s group had looked frantic, Eric’s looked fluid. The difference wasn’t in strength—it was in pace. He adjusted calmly, eyes scanning the field as if he could see everything at once.

The bear staggered under the coordinated attack. One spear caught its shoulder, another pierced the chest, and when it fell, Eric was already giving his next order.

"Check the wounded. Reset the line. We move in five."

The knights around him straightened, panting but composed.

On the left screen, Carlos’s feed flickered again—showing the aftermath. Smoke-gray dust, uneven formation, and around two knights pulling the injured out of view. Carlos stood near the center, sword dragging faintly across the dirt. His face was pale, his expression unreadable. He shouted something—the audio caught fragments: "We move... no time... leave him!"

A few in the stands gasped when the camera orb zoomed in: a knight unmoving on the ground, armor dented, one hand still curled around his weapon.

Then, without warning, the forest shadows above him shifted.

Three dark figures dropped into the frame—fast, smooth, and near-silent. They wore plain, close-fitting gear, no armor, no emblems. Their movements were so quick that for a moment the orb’s lens failed to track them.

One lifted the fallen knight effortlessly; another pressed a glowing device against his chest. The light flared, then they all vanished, leaving only flattened grass behind. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

Whispers erupted through the amphitheatre.

"What was that?"

"Did they just—teleport?"

"Are those mages?"

Roger’s brow creased slightly but he didn’t speak.

Ocean kept watching, calm. The light from the screens reflected faintly in the silver rim of his mask.

"Retrieval protocol," he said softly, as if naming it only to himself.

The right screen brightened again, showing Eric’s men reorganizing near the ridge taking a route away from the valley.

Roan exhaled slowly. "It’s like watching two different worlds."

Ocean didn’t comment as it was just as how he had expected, he knew even though he hadn’t leaked any information to Eric to help him, Eric would know how to hold his calm and do the right thing.

The screens shifted again—Carlos entering the valley below, Eric climbing the ridge above.

The second phase of the Trial was beginning.