Ren stood in the middle of the training field, his fists clenched, his body trembling from exhaustion. His ribs ached where Roland had hit him, his arms felt like lead, and his legs still hadn't recovered from the gravitational test.
Yet, despite the burning pain in his muscles and the raw frustration gnawing at his pride, one thought burned brighter than the rest.
I won't lose. I won't be weak. I'll get stronger, no matter what it takes.
Vance had already walked away, his clipboard tucked under his arm, not sparing Ren another glance. The crowd of onlookers dispersed, muttering amongst themselves—some indifferent, others openly amused by his barely-passing results.
"Did you see that? He struggled so much just to land a single hit."
"Honestly, how the hell did he even get in? A demon that weak?"
Ren's tail flicked sharply behind him, a clear sign of his irritation, but he forced himself to keep his expression neutral. He didn't need to waste words on them. The only thing that mattered was proving them wrong.
A shadow loomed beside him.
"Not bad, kid," Wolfe said, his arms crossed over his chest, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Well, actually, no. That was pretty bad. But at least you didn't die."
Ren shot him a glare but didn't respond.
Wolfe chuckled. "You're gonna need a hell of a lot more than just anger to survive here. You've got spirit, but spirit doesn't mean shit if your body can't keep up."
Ren exhaled sharply, his frustration barely contained. "Then I'll make my body keep up."
Wolfe's grin widened. "Good answer. Then let's see how well you handle your first official day of training."
Ren barely had a moment to process that before Wolfe turned on his heel and started walking.
"Follow me, rookie. Training starts now."
---
The Training Grounds – Dawn
Ren had expected to have some time to rest. Maybe a night to recover. Maybe an hour. Maybe five damn minutes.
Instead, the moment he finished the entrance test, Wolfe dragged him straight into the real training—no food, no break, no time to process anything.
The sun was just beginning to rise, casting long shadows across the academy grounds. The air was crisp, but Ren's body still felt unbearably heavy from the previous tests. His muscles screamed in protest with every step, but he refused to show weakness.
They entered a massive open training field, larger than the one from before. It was filled with rows of recruits already hard at work. Some were running laps around the perimeter, others were engaged in full-contact sparring. A few trained their mana control, focusing on glowing sigils beneath their feet.
Ren's gaze darted around, taking in every detail. His gut twisted slightly. He was at the bottom of the food chain here. He knew it. They all knew it.
He wasn't just weaker than them—he was already behind.
Wolfe gestured toward a group of recruits practicing close-quarters combat. "You'll start there."
Ren's eyes flickered to Wolfe. "Sparring?"
"Hand-to-hand combat training," Wolfe confirmed. "You're not good enough for weapons yet."
Ren's teeth clenched. The way he said it, so matter-of-fact, made something inside him flare with frustration. He opened his mouth to argue but stopped himself.
Not yet. Shut up and prove them wrong.
He exhaled sharply and stepped forward.
The moment Ren entered the sparring ring, he knew something was wrong.
The recruits standing inside weren't just any recruits. They were already experienced—muscles taut, eyes sharp, bodies that had been trained and hardened over time.
Ren wasn't stupid. He recognized what was happening.
They're testing me. They want to break me.
A burly recruit stepped forward, rolling his shoulders. His build was heavier than Roland's, and his smirk made it clear he wasn't going to take it easy.
"New blood, huh?" The recruit cracked his knuckles. "Try not to embarrass yourself too much."
Ren narrowed his eyes. "Let's just get this over with."
"Eager to lose? I like it."
Before Ren could react, the recruit exploded forward. His fist flew straight for Ren's face.
Ren barely dodged, twisting at the last second, but he wasn't fast enough to fully evade. The punch grazed his jaw, sending a jolt of pain through his skull.
The recruit followed up immediately, his knee driving toward Ren's ribs.
Too fast.
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Ren braced himself, shifting his weight to absorb the hit—but the impact still sent him stumbling backward. His ribs flared with pain, the exact same spot Roland had hit before.
Laughter erupted from the watching recruits.
Move. Don't think, just move.
Ren gritted his teeth and lunged forward. He swung, but his opponent easily sidestepped and drove an elbow into Ren's back.
Pain exploded down his spine.
His knees buckled before he forced himself to stay upright.
The burly recruit grinned. "That all you got?"
Ren's breath came in sharp, ragged gasps. His vision blurred for a split second—but that was all it took.
A brutal kick to his stomach sent him crashing to the ground.
Silence.
Ren's fingers clawed into the dirt. His breathing was ragged. His body hurt.
But more than anything—his pride hurt.
The whispers returned.
"He's pathetic."
"What a joke."
"Can't even fight properly."
Ren's heart pounded violently against his ribs.
The recruit stepped over him, looking down with an amused expression. "You're done, demon."
Ren froze.
His fingers dug deeper into the dirt. His chest heaved.
A memory flashed in his mind.
---
A child stands alone in a dark alleyway.
A group of older boys surrounds him, sneering, their voices filled with disgust.
"You're nothing."
"You don't belong here."
A fist crashes into his stomach. The child chokes on air, curling inward as the jeering continues.
His Mother's face flashes in his mind. Her hands, worn and bruised. The way she always smiled despite everything.
This world won't let you exist peacefully, Ren.
So what will you do?
---
Ren growled.
His body moved on instinct.
Before the recruit could step away, Ren launched forward—grabbing his opponent by the leg and yanking him off balance.
The recruit's eyes widened, but before he could react, Ren drove his head straight into the bastard's nose.
CRACK.
Blood sprayed as the recruit stumbled back, cursing.
Ren didn't stop.
He tackled the recruit, throwing wild punches, rage coursing through every fiber of his being. He didn't care how much it hurt. He didn't care how sloppy it looked.
All that mattered was that he kept fighting.
"Enough!"
A powerful force ripped Ren off the recruit, slamming him back onto the ground.
Wolfe stood over him, his eyes narrowed. "That's enough."
Ren panted, blood trickling from his lip. His body was screaming, but his mind was burning.
The recruit groaned, clutching his broken nose.
For the first time since stepping into the ring, the whispers were silent.
Ren stared up at the sky, breathless, as Wolfe crouched beside him.
"You're reckless," Wolfe muttered. "And if you keep fighting like that, you're going to get killed."
Ren's breathing slowed.
But Wolfe smirked.
"Still… not bad, kid."
***
Ren layed on the ground, his chest heaving, his body aching from the beating he had just endured. But he wasn't thinking about the pain.
All he could hear was the silence.
The same people who had been mocking him moments ago were now watching him differently. They weren't laughing. They weren't sneering.
They were uncertain.
Ren forced himself to sit up, ignoring the protests from his ribs. Blood dripped from his busted lip, and his knuckles stung from the impact of his wild punches. But he didn't care.
He had fought back.
Wolfe crouched beside him, shaking his head. "You're a damn mess, kid."
Ren wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing the blood across his skin. "Yeah?" he rasped. "Well, at least I'm still conscious."
Wolfe chuckled. "That you are." He stood, glancing at the recruit Ren had just tackled. The guy was still on the ground, groaning in pain, blood dripping from his broken nose.
Ren had lost the fight. He had been beaten down, overwhelmed, and humiliated.
But he hadn't stayed down.
Wolfe extended a hand toward him. "Get up."
Ren stared at it for a moment before gripping Wolfe's wrist, letting himself be pulled to his feet. His legs almost gave out beneath him, but he locked his knees, refusing to show weakness.
The watching recruits slowly turned away, murmuring amongst themselves.
"He's crazy."
"Barely standing, but still fought back? He's insane."
Ren ignored them, his focus locked onto Wolfe. "What now?"
Wolfe smirked. "Now? You run."
Ren's face twitched. "...What?"
Wolfe pointed toward the perimeter of the training grounds. "Five laps around the entire field. Standard punishment for reckless fighting."
Ren's tail flicked in irritation. "You've got to be kidding me."
"Do I look like I'm kidding?" Wolfe said, crossing his arms.
Ren exhaled sharply through his nose. He glanced at the field—it was huge. Each lap had to be at least a kilometer long.
His legs already felt like dead weight beneath him. His ribs ached, his lungs burned, and his knuckles were raw.
But he didn't hesitate.
He started running.
Pushing Through the Pain
The moment Ren took his first stride, his entire body screamed in protest.
His ribs felt like they were cracking with each breath. His legs, still sore from the stamina test, felt like lead.
But stopping wasn't an option.
The first lap was brutal. He was barely keeping pace with the slower recruits. His breath came in ragged gasps, sweat trickling down his back.
By the second lap, his vision was blurring. His lungs felt too tight.
By the third, his body was shutting down.
One more step.
Keep moving.
He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms, forcing himself to keep running.
The other recruits barely paid him any mind, already finished with their own laps, standing off to the side, chatting and drinking water.
They weren't struggling.
He was.
But he kept going.
By the time he reached the fourth lap, his legs buckled. He fell forward, slamming onto the dirt, his vision spinning.
His entire body felt like it was burning from the inside out.
The temptation to just lie there, let it end, was overwhelming.
No.
Get up.
GET UP.
Ren gritted his teeth, his fingers digging into the dirt. His arms shook violently as he pushed himself upright.
He couldn't stop.
Not when he still had one lap left.
A few of the recruits stopped their conversations, watching him crawl back to his feet.
He started running again.
Every step felt like hell.
His breath was ragged, his heartbeat erratic, and his body numb with pain.
But something inside him kept pushing forward.
He wasn't fast.
He wasn't strong.
But he kept going.
By the time he crossed the finish line, he collapsed onto his hands and knees, his entire body shaking violently. He couldn't breathe.
Dirt stuck to the sweat on his skin. His arms felt like jelly, barely holding him up.
But he had done it.
---
Wolfe crouched down beside him again, a smirk playing at his lips. "Still conscious?"
Ren couldn't even lift his head, his forehead still pressed against the ground. "...Shut up."
Wolfe laughed, standing up. "Alright. That's enough for today." He turned to the other recruits. "Someone get him some water before he dies on my watch."
One of the cadets—a girl with short, dark red hair—stepped forward, holding out a canteen. "Here."
Ren forced himself to sit up, snatching the water from her hands. He barely muttered a thanks before gulping it down, not caring how desperate he looked.
The girl raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. "You looked like you were going to drop dead back there."
Ren wiped his mouth, his glare sharp. "But I didn't."
The girl smirked. "Fair enough." She crossed her arms. "Name's Astra."
Ren exhaled heavily, his body still trembling. "Ren."
She nodded, then looked over at Wolfe. "This guy seriously your responsibility?"
Wolfe grinned. "For now."
Astra snorted. "You're screwed."
Ren ignored her, shifting his focus back to Wolfe. "What's next?"
Wolfe raised an eyebrow. "Next?" He shook his head. "Next, you rest. Unless you want to actually drop dead."
Ren opened his mouth to argue, but his body betrayed him. His vision swam, and before he could react—
His world tilted sideways.
Darkness swallowed him whole