The light of the crystal lamp shone sharply on the metal operating table in the center of the underground laboratory. The air around me felt incredibly cold. The wafting smell of anesthetics completely failed to mask the sharp aroma of sulfur.
"Are the belts tight enough?" I asked. I could feel the rough leather of the military belts pressing my chest, waist, and both legs against the metal surface.
Virelith pulled the final buckle near my feet with all her might. "These are four layers of military-grade leather belts. You will not be able to move no matter how hard your muscles thrash," the girl answered.
Her hands trembled slightly as she offered a solid piece of oak wood to my mouth.
"Bite this, Kael. Do not let yourself scream and bite your own tongue off," Virelith ordered with a tone filled with clinical horror.
I opened my mouth and clamped my teeth onto the oak wood. I gave a slow nod of affirmation.
Virelith picked up a sterilized silver scalpel from a tray. "I am going to open the damaged muscle tissue of your shoulder. Prepare yourself."
The tip of the silver blade touched my skin. With one precise stroke, Virelith tore through the skin and muscle of my right shoulder.
The scent of fresh blood immediately dominated the room, swallowing the smell of sulfur. The sound of the scalpel blade scraping against my cracked bone echoed, creating a sickening noise that made my teeth grind together.
I squeezed my eyes shut tightly. Cold sweat began to dampen my forehead, yet I did not let out the slightest groan.
"Here it goes," whispered Virelith.
The girl picked up a crystal tube from the table. The neon green liquid inside pulsed slowly as if the object possessed a heartbeat of its own.
Without wasting time, Virelith poured the Troll Heart Marrow fluid directly into my gaping wound. She let the viscous liquid drip and soak into my shattered shoulder bone.
The moment that green liquid touched my bone, hell leaked into my body.
The torment was truly unimaginable to common sense.
The parasitic Troll cells reacted with extreme aggression. They began devouring my human calcium alive. The sensation felt like thousands of fire ants injected straight into my bone marrow. Those fiery ants began to creep upward through my spine, attempting to reach my brain to seize control of my consciousness.
My body instantly convulsed violently. My muscles thrashed wildly, rejecting the paralyzing pain.
A cracking sound was heard from the leather restraint belt across my chest, beginning to tear due to the brutal force of my convulsions. The oak wood inside my mouth shattered into pieces, turning into coarse sawdust from my overwhelmingly powerful bite. Blood flowed from the corner of my lips.
"Kael! Hold on! Do not let the parasite reach your brain!" shrieked Virelith in a panic. She dropped her scalpel and tried to press down on my shoulder with both her hands.
My sanity hung by a thread. The green parasite continued to creep higher, attempting to shut down my human brain functions. But I was a war veteran. I was a man who refused to bow to death in the bloody trenches, let alone surrender to mere lowly monster cells.
I refused to lose. With my remaining shred of sanity, I forcibly pumped the Sanguine Core in my chest.
The dark red lava of blood magic exploded within my veins. A horrifying visual battle took place just beneath the surface of my skin. The veins in my neck and shoulder, glowing bright green from the Troll cell invasion, now had to clash against the thick red glowing veins powered by Sanguine force.
The hierarchy of the universe applied absolutely within my body. The Sanguine Core was the apex predator.
My blood energy pounced and completely devoured the parasitic Troll cells without a trace. My blood magic forced them to submit to my command. That red energy then utilized the ferocious remnants of the Troll cells to restitch the bone of my right shoulder. The cells were forced to mutate into a new bone foundation that was far denser, thicker, and as hard as steel.
My ragged breathing slowly subsided. The green and red lights beneath my skin faded until they vanished completely.
I opened my incredibly heavy eyes. My right arm, which had previously been entirely dead, now responded to my brain's commands. My hand moved slowly. My fingers bent, then clenched tightly until my knuckles turned white.
This arm had returned to life, and I could feel a monster's strength flowing through every single muscle fiber.
"You did it, Commander," whispered Virelith. The girl fell into a sitting position on the floor, exhaling a tremendously long sigh of relief.
I tried to open my mouth to reply, but absolute exhaustion slammed into my nervous system like a giant sledgehammer. My vision went dark instantly, and I lost consciousness upon that operating table.
___
The morning sun shone scorchingly bright upon the Main Gate of Aethelgard Academy.
A gentle wind blew, carrying the scent of fresh grass and the expensive perfumes of the nobility. The atmosphere in this place was a stark contrast to the stench of blood and death dominating the underground laboratory.
Hundreds of Upper Class cadets and elite instructors lined up to form a perfectly neat honor guard along the entrance path. At the very front of that line, Orvelis Nightbane stood tall. He wore his faction's grand purple silk robe, looking remarkably elegant.
The handsome face of the Duke's Heir, which usually radiated arrogance and boredom, now surprisingly displayed a rare sense of respect and anticipation.
"Is the welcoming formation entirely perfect, Damius?" asked Orvelis without turning around.
Damius, standing behind him, immediately bowed. "It is, Young Master. We are exceedingly ready to welcome the arrival of the Chairman of the Midterm Exam Supervisory Committee today."
Orvelis smiled slyly. The man arriving this morning was not merely an ordinary academy instructor. He was a Direct Envoy from the Central Empire. He was the absolute judge holding the key to organizing the Death Zone arena next month.
Orvelis had drained his personal wealth and sent numerous expensive gifts to the capital to secure this envoy's support.
With the help of the Imperial Envoy, Orvelis could manipulate the exam curriculum to execute Kael Draven legally in the middle of the forest without a single party daring to launch an investigation.
"Remember this well," said Orvelis to his followers behind him. "Show the utmost respect to Lord Valerius. His support is our master key to eliminating those street dogs once and for all."
The loud creaking of wooden wheels shattered the silence of the ranks. A large horse-drawn carriage bearing the central empire's crest arrived in front of the academy gates.
However, there was something strange about the arrival. The black draft horses looked utterly exhausted, foaming at the mouth. The doors of the luxurious carriage appeared dented inward and heavily scratched, looking exactly as if they had just survived a street battle.
A guard knight, looking pale and nervous, immediately jumped down from the driver's seat. He opened the carriage door slowly with trembling hands.
Orvelis stepped forward. He spread his arms slightly and bowed respectfully in a highly elegant manner.
"Welcome to Aethelgard Academy, Lord Valerius. We are deeply honored and eagerly await your guidance for next month's exam," welcomed Orvelis with a charismatic tone.
There was no friendly reply from inside the carriage.
"Get out of my way."
That hoarse voice, dripping with hatred, startled Orvelis and made him lift his head.
Lord Valerius stepped down from the carriage, but his appearance completely shattered all expectations of authority Orvelis had imagined. The maroon silk suit typical of an imperial official he usually wore was gone. The attire was replaced by an emergency white medical gown that was dirty and exceedingly loose.
Valerius's aristocratic face, usually arrogant and covered in expensive cosmetics, was now wrapped in thick bandages. His sharp nose looked crooked due to a brutal bone fracture. A horrifying dark purple bruise encircled his left eye.
Yet, that was not what made Orvelis's face turn deathly pale.
Orvelis's eyes widened in horror as his gaze descended toward the right side of the envoy's body. Lord Valerius's right arm was severed cleanly at the elbow. The remaining stump was nothing more than a thick bandage wrap still seeping fresh blood, dripping slowly onto the academy's stone floor.
The Imperial Envoy had been maimed for life.
"Lord Valerius! What happened to you?" exclaimed Orvelis. His voice trembled so violently from shock that he forgot all his etiquette. "What bastard dared to commit this heinous act against a Direct Envoy of the Empire?"
Lord Valerius's eyes burned wildly. That pair of eyes was filled with an insane, bloodthirsty vendetta. He cared absolutely nothing for Orvelis's formal welcome. He also ignored the ranks of cadets standing in horrified silence at his condition.
"To hell with the exam, Orvelis!" hissed Valerius with a shrill voice, holding back a rage that finally exploded.
Valerius stepped forward and grabbed the collar of Orvelis's purple robe using his remaining left hand. The grip was so strong it made Orvelis choke slightly.
"Deploy every academy knight right now!" screamed Valerius right in the face of the Nightbane Duke's heir. "Find a giant man carrying a greatsword and wielding golden Aura magic! I will flay that street dog alive myself!"