"We currently have eighteen mana cores, and exactly one more day before the exam concludes," Recruit 1 announced, wiping down her blade in the morning light. "Now that we are almost certainly the highest-statted individuals in this part of the forest, let's split up. We need to cover more ground and harvest as many cores as possible."
Before either of them could speak, she shot a preemptive glare at Recruit 7. "And no, 7, that is not an invitation for a competition."
"Are you sure?" Recruit 7 grinned, stretching his arms. "Because it sure sounded like one to me."
Henry, who was entirely drained of his patience for Recruit 7's antics after last night, didn't even acknowledge the bait. "Alright. Let's get moving."
He turned his back on them and immediately started jogging eastward into the clearing. He hadn't made it ten paces before Recruit 7 sprinted past him, eager to get a head start.
"Mark the trees!" Recruit 1 called out to Henry's retreating back. "We'll rendezvous back here at sunset!"
Henry raised a hand in acknowledgment and settled into a steady pace. Powered by his newfound stamina, the jog felt completely effortless. As he pushed further east, the steep elevation of the foothills began to dip, steadily dropping him back down into a valley. With the lower elevation came the return of the dense, shadowy undergrowth and the towering, massive trunks of the red titan trees they had grown so accustomed to over the last month.
At first, Henry just ran. But oddly, every sign of wildlife seemed to evaporate the second he passed by.
Eventually, he caught the faint sound of running water and tracked it to a shallow, slow-moving creek heavily choked by thick shrubbery.
'This is probably the best ambush point I'm going to find today,' Henry thought.
Falling back into his usual routine, he slathered his face and gear in cold river mud to mask his scent, then burrowed into the center of a dense bush to wait.
Two slow hours ticked by. Nothing. Not a single hare, squirrel, or deer approached the water.
'Is the water in this creek poisoned or something?' Henry thought, his frustration mounting.
"Fuck this. I'm thirsty," he finally muttered aloud.
He crawled out of the brush, scrubbed the dried mud from his skin in the creek, and filled his nearly empty leather waterskin. He gathered a pile of dry kindling and sparked a small fire. But the moment the flames caught, he patted down his pack and froze.
"Shit!"
He didn't have Recruit 1's metal boiling basin.
Refusing to risk getting sick from unpurified water, Henry scanned the bank until he found a thick chunk of freshly fallen, heavily moisture-logged wood. Drawing his hunting knife, he quickly carved out a deep, concave depression in the center, forming a makeshift wooden bowl. He poured the creek water in and carefully suspended it over the fire, meticulously managing the flames so the water boiled before the wet wood could catch fire.
Once the water was finally purified and transferred back into his waterskin, he raised it to his lips for a massive, rewarding gulp.
Before he could take a second swallow, a frantic series of sounds shattered the quiet of the forest.
He heard what sounded like desperate crunching of boots tearing through the underbrush, closely followed by the rapid, chaotic scuffling of multiple four-legged pursuers.
Henry put his waterskin away, drew his arming sword, and rushed toward the noise.
Assuming he was about to intercept a pack of beasts and score an easy haul of mana cores, he burst through a heavy wall of ferns. But the moment he cleared the foliage, he froze.
Stumbling blindly toward him was Ana.
She looked absolutely horrific. Her uniform was torn to shreds, her face was caked in grime, and she was emaciated. She looked like she hadn't consumed a drop of water or a bite of food in weeks. She was entirely running on the last, desperate fumes of her stamina.
Henry couldn't afford to focus on her condition for more than a fraction of a second. Hot on her heels were five cinnamon-colored coyotes, their jaws snapping wildly at her boots.
Henry blurred past the exhausted Ana. He swung his sword in a wide, wild horizontal arc. These beasts were significantly smaller and several levels weaker than the wolves from the night before; his blade sheared cleanly through the first two coyotes with zero resistance, dropping them instantly.
The sudden, brutal display of force terrified the remaining three coyotes. They scrambled backward, slipping in the mud, before turning tail and fleeing into the deep woods.
Henry briefly debated chasing them down for the extra cores, but a heavy thud behind him changed his mind. Ana had collapsed into the dirt, not uttering a single word.
Prioritizing her survival, Henry quickly knelt, carved the two mana cores from the dead coyotes, and pocketed them. He grabbed his waterskin from the creek bank, walked over to Ana, and held it out.
"Here," Henry said gently. "Drink."
Her hands trembled violently as she snatched the leather skin. She tilted her head back and absolutely guzzled the purified water, unbothered by the lukewarm temperature. When she finally lowered it, coughing slightly, she wiped her mouth with a filthy sleeve.
She looked up at him, her eyes shining with unspeakable relief, and offered a weak, exhausted smile.
"Thank you, you saved me."
Henry stared down at her for a long second, his heart still hammering against his ribs from the sudden adrenaline spike. He took in her hollow cheeks, the dark circles under her sunken eyes, and the terrifying, brittle fragility of her frame.
"Why the hell didn't you call for help?" Henry demanded, his voice much sharper than he intended. He pointed a finger back toward the trees. "If I hadn't been sitting right here when those things chased you out of the brush, you would've..."
He couldn't even finish the sentence. The reality of how close she had just come to being ripped apart was sickening.
Ana looked down at the mud staining her torn knees, her grip tightening around the empty waterskin. "I didn't want to be the only one who didn't graduate," she whispered, her voice cracking with exhaustion and deep-seated shame.
"Your life is significantly more important than your graduation day, Ana," Henry snapped, his tone firm but laced with genuine concern.
She opened her cracked lips, looking as though she desperately wanted to say something to justify her stubbornness, but the words seemed to die in her throat. She swallowed hard, closed her mouth, and just gave a small, defeated shake of her head.
Seeing how close she was to completely breaking down, Henry decided to ease up. He took a slow, deep breath, consciously softening his rigid posture and changing the topic.
"Where is the rest of your squad?" Henry asked, his eyes scanning the area behind her, half-expecting more battered survivors to stumble out. "Where's 13?"