"This should be the place…" Mya Hill muttered softly while stepping into the small parking lot at the edge of the Crimson Forest. The name still felt strange to her. Crimson Forest sounded dramatic and mysterious, yet the woods before her looked almost painfully normal beneath the summer sunlight. Tall trees swayed quietly in the wind, while narrow pathways disappeared into the greenery without anything particularly ominous about them. Still, considering the rumors surrounding this place, she doubted the name had been chosen without reason. If she managed to join the Guild-Clan, perhaps she would finally learn the story behind it.
Her nervousness only grew as she adjusted the heavy backpack hanging from her shoulders. At barely one hundred and sixty centimeters tall, carrying an entire archery kit through the summer heat had not been pleasant. Sweat clung uncomfortably to her skin beneath her light clothing, while strands of bright blonde hair stuck to her cheeks. Normally she was used to attracting attention. Between her blue eyes, noble upbringing, and admittedly attractive appearance, people stared almost automatically whenever she entered a room. But the looks she received here felt different. Sharper somehow. More observant. Like the people around her were measuring things beyond simple appearance.
The parking lot itself only fit around fifty cars at most, which honestly surprised her considering the reputation of the place. Then again, Dutch biking culture had always been famous, even internationally. Reaching the forest had been a nightmare regardless. No taxi driver wanted to come this far inside the region, ride-sharing services outright refused the route, and the nearest bus stop had been kilometers away near Clanton. In the end, she had been forced to walk the remaining seven kilometers herself beneath the oppressive summer sun while carrying enough equipment to make her shoulders ache.
And all of that while technically being a runaway.
At sixteen years old, Mya had abandoned her family without permission and crossed the sea to the Netherlands chasing what she considered her only real chance at freedom. Back in England, her aristocratic family had become unbearable after the System arrived. Before the Trial, society had modernized enough that noble titles barely mattered beyond appearances. AI handled most industries, energy shortages were practically nonexistent, and old aristocratic influence had steadily faded into ceremonial nonsense. Yet somehow the apocalypse had made her parents even worse. The moment humanity returned from the Trial, they had immediately thrown themselves back into high society politics as if nothing had changed.
It disgusted her.
Most noble families had survived the Trial through sheer luck or by sacrificing servants and retainers at the front lines while hiding safely behind walls. Her own family had barely managed to gather enough points to establish a Noble House faction afterward, leaving them nearly bankrupt in the process. Yet despite how close humanity had come to extinction, her parents still obsessed over bloodlines, etiquette, and social status like arrogant peacocks desperately pretending the old world still existed.
Mya thought they were fools.
Because she had read enough fantasy novels to know exactly what happened to arrogant nobles in worlds ruled by power and magic.
They died.
Usually painfully.
That was why she ran.
During the Trial she had seen true archers fighting on the battlefield—hunters and rangers capable of launching arrows at distances that felt impossible. They stood atop ruined walls and burning ridges calmly firing shot after shot into charging goblin hordes with terrifying precision. Their arrows moved so quickly she could barely follow them with her eyes. Meanwhile, she had been trapped among reserve support units functioning as a battery mage and bringing arrows to those archers when they ran out. The difference between them had burned itself into her memory.
And from that moment onward, she swore she would become one of those archers someday.
Unfortunately, she had no idea which faction those warriors belonged to. The only lead she possessed was the legendary archery club whispered about constantly within European archery circles. So the moment she learned the club had transformed into a dual Guild-Clan faction after the Trial, she immediately booked passage to the Netherlands. Her instincts told her powerful people stood behind this organization. Intelligent people. Dangerous people. Exactly the kind capable of producing monsters like the archers she remembered from the battlefield.
Which was why standing here now made her simultaneously terrified and excited.
"Okay, Mya… you can do this," she whispered quietly to herself while joining the long line of applicants near the registration tables.
The staff processing arrivals moved with frightening efficiency. After checking her identification and registration number, they immediately took custody of her archery equipment without even inspecting it properly, which honestly confused her. She had expected weapon checks, safety protocols, maybe even skill evaluations beforehand. Instead, the workers merely tagged her belongings before directing her toward the examination queue with calm professionalism.
That was where things became even stranger.
The applicants were instructed to download a special application developed by the faction itself. After registration, each person received a random examination number through the app, and once their trial began the program would completely lock down their phones. No messaging. No calls. No internet access. Nothing except the timer and evaluation functions remained available during the test.
Honestly, it was a little terrifying.
Still, the examination itself sounded deceptively simple at first glance. Applicants only needed to traverse two kilometers of forest pathways within fifteen minutes while identifying hidden individuals, traps, abnormalities, or suspicious details along the route. Simple in theory. Far more difficult in practice. Before the System arrived, an average person walked roughly one kilometer every twelve minutes under normal conditions. Doing that while remaining alert and observant inside unfamiliar woodland terrain would have been impossible for most ordinary civilians.
Thankfully, humanity was no longer ordinary.
The System's stat increases alone made this test physically achievable now, though that did not make Mya feel any calmer. Especially because she knew she was already behind compared to many other applicants here. During the Trial, she had originally possessed a Mage class forced onto her by her family. According to her parents, noble ladies should never dirty their hands with physical labor or martial disciplines. Archery, swordsmanship, survival skills—all of it had been considered beneath her station.
Mother Gaia apparently disagreed.
When humanity returned from the Trial, the Earth System had offered roughly thirty percent of humanity the opportunity to abandon their original classes and start over completely. Most people never received the option at all. Only those whose talents fundamentally clashed with their chosen paths were granted the chance. Mya had accepted instantly. She lost all previous progress in exchange for becoming an Archer, meaning she was now nearly two years behind genuine specialists who had trained properly from the beginning.
But she did not regret it.
Not even slightly.
Because for the first time in her life, the path ahead actually felt like hers.
As the line slowly advanced toward the forest entrance, Mya tightened her grip slightly while glancing toward the towering trees ahead. Her heart pounded hard enough that she worried others might hear it. Around her, thousands of applicants whispered nervously among themselves, all carrying dreams similar to her own. Some wanted strength. Others wanted safety. Wealth. Power. Revenge. Freedom.
Mya only wanted a future she chose herself.