The trail was quite simple. Imagine a forest filled with towering trees, bushes, and grass reaching the average person's knee length. Now, a path was cleared to travel on. This path was 5-6 feet wide and could accommodate 3-4 people standing beside each other.

Additionally, not all of the trail had towering trees, just like a forest; some sections were more crowded with trees than others. When the students of the Beast sect entered the trail that went through the forest, they weren’t immediately surrounded by dense, towering trees. It was only when they went deeper that they encountered an area where there was barely any sunlight. This is where the black bugs lived; these creatures liked the cool environment and were the size of a football. After they exited the section with the black bugs, they ran for a couple of minutes until they arrived at the crocodile river. After crossing the river, they turned back, heading towards the camp base. This was their daily exercise, running from 7 am to noon.

Few students were up earlier than usual. That morning, Maich was staring at the blonde girl's tent before 7 am, and then hell broke loose, resulting in the loss of 2 students driven by fear.

five minutes before the chaos, Clark was away from the center of the camp.

POV of Clark:

Clark was a man of purpose, and his will was firm, which is why every morning he got up at 5:30 am to work out away from his tent, close to the forest surrounding the base. Every morning, he did 200 squats, 200 push-ups, and 20 minutes of plank. He swung his sword hundreds of times. Clark believed that to achieve great things, you have to do great things, which is why he never missed a day of exercise. He needed to keep his body in perfect condition, no matter what he was going through, unless his foot was cut off, and today was not the day. He was a living, breathing machine, which is why he was the first to destroy his tree after 3 days. It wasn’t hard; all he had to do was punch around the stem repeatedly.

The trick was not to punch the tree with your entire fist but to connect the sides of the tree with the sides of your fist, that way you could destroy the tree piece by piece.

And the trees weren’t rock hard, he believed. It was easy if you had consistency, and he had all of that and more. So after finding the right method, all he had to do was push beyond the pain, and if the pain became too much, there was a healing pool. Clark liked that; he liked the feeling of pushing beyond his limits, he liked the feeling of chills and sweat he received while going all out. It was exhilarating.

Today was the final day to destroy one of the millions of trees that surrounded the camp. Because of the abundance, students of the Beast sect didn’t fight over which tree to choose. How could they when there's a crazy luther here? After Clark finished his morning exercise, he was testing something he gained; it was an unknown power. This power was hard to use, and it filled him with excitement. It was a new challenge. To bring it forth, he had to remember the pain his body experienced, and after that, it was all about controlling the flow.

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Clark bent his knee and covered his right fist with his left hand. He remembered the pain he experienced and the need to protect his hand. The energy flowed from around his body and gathered in his right hand. Essence, in its true form, surrounded Clark's fist. He poured more and more until it started to illuminate the morning.

Then he heard a scream filled with rage. No, it wasn’t a scream; it was a cry. He lost his focus, losing the essence he had gathered. Then he heard a female scream. He ran towards the center of the camp.

What he saw shocked him to his core. In the center of the camp lay a fellow student of the Beast sect, with blood gushing out of his neck, creating a pool of blood while he shook.

His mind was filled with rage. "Who killed him? Who the hell did it?" his thoughts screamed inside. He looked around and saw how everybody watched the kid bleed out. And he understood them, as much as he was angry. They weren’t doctors; they didn’t understand the human body. They all held their heads in shame, acknowledging their fallen comrade.

As he was about to move towards the man on the ground, he saw a white-haired guy run towards the body. The white-haired guy opened up his suit cast and was ready to offer help, but then he realized that the patient had burst the main blood vessel that provided blood to the brain. He stopped and muttered, "He’s dead." The white-haired kid stood up from the dead body and walked away. It was then that Clark arrived beside him and asked, "What happened? Why did you stop?" The white-haired kid looked up and said, "He burst his carotid arteries. With my medical skills, he would have died anyway." "I see. How did he die?" Clark asked, not taking his rage-filled eyes off the dead body. "Suicide."

Clark's heart ached. He didn’t want to admit it, but he couldn’t protect everybody; he couldn’t save everybody. He thought there wouldn’t be any more deaths. After all, he did the best he could. He was the one who killed more crocodiles and bugs than anyone. He was the one who distracted the monsters for a week. He even motivated and shared his knowledge on how to tear a hole in the tree. Clark walked towards the dead body, stooped down, and closed its eyes, passing on a few parting words. "I'm sorry. Mama was right; the cultivation world is for the strong-willed."

Then everyone in the group heard a deafening voice. "Do you know what separates a survivor from the rest?" Clark was filled with fear. He didn’t know what Luther was trying to get at. Just after they lost someone, that monster showed up. It filled Clark with rage. He ground his teeth and waited. "Conviction," was Luther's answer. And as much as he didn’t want to admit it, Luther was right, and Clark knew that. Many people he knew didn’t go beyond because they didn’t have conviction in their purpose. The purpose to thrive and be great. Just like his father.

Clark muttered, “But people don’t have to be this cold. Where's the humanity? Where's the love for one another? Is this my world now? No, it can’t be.” “I won’t accept it,” Clark vowed, glaring at Luther in the distance.

And with that, the group ran into the forest, following the trail. Shouts and screams filled the air as many carried weapons, ranging from swords and spears to knives or even pointed sticks, while some didn’t. With conviction echoing in their heads, they charged forward.