Far beyond Aurelian's structured cities lies an unregulated stretch of land where Aether behaves without restraint.
This place is known as the Eidolon Hollow Forest, located on the eastern border of the kingdom—an expanse where fractured Aether seeps naturally into the soil, mutating life into unstable forms known as Mist Wraiths.
It is not a place of training, it is a place of survival.
The announcement was simple:
"Survive in the Eidolon Hollow Forest for 24 hours. Extraction will begin when the cycle ends. Only the living proceed."
No rankings, no assistance, no guarantees... Only endurance.
The Hunt Begins
The moment the candidates were released, the forest swallowed them whole.
Mist rolled across the ground like breathing fog. Trees bent unnaturally, their bark faintly glowing with unstable Aether veins. The deeper one went, the more distorted reality became.
And within that distortion—
The Mist Wraiths awakened.
Hollow, humanoid forms driven only by instinct: seek living Aether… consume it… repeat.
A sudden crash echoed through the forest.
A young candidate stumbled through the mist, breath ragged, eyes wide with panic.
"HELP—! SOMEBODY!"
Taren Dravos sprinted blindly through the trees. Behind him— three Mist Wraiths.
Their movements were uneven but relentless, limbs jerking forward unnaturally as they closed distance.
"GET AWAY FROM ME!" Taren shouted, voice breaking.
He tripped over exposed roots and fell hard into the damp ground. The Wraiths closed in.
High above the chaos, hidden within the canopy, stood another presence. Renn Valehart observed the forest movement.
He saw Taren's panic instantly. He also saw the Wraiths converging. Taren lifted his head through the fog. Up in the branches— a silhouette.
"Renn?!" His voice cracked.
"Renn! HELP ME! PLEASE!"
The Mist Wraiths turned toward the sound. They surged forward.
Renn didn't hesitate. He stepped off the branch. A golden flash tore through the air. Renn descended like a rupture in the sky. Impact followed instantly. One strike. The Wraiths collapsed into dispersed mist before they could fully reach Taren.
No struggle remained.
Only fading residue of unstable Aether.
Taren lay frozen, staring upward. "Thank God I'm alive. Thank you Renn for saving me…"
Renn landed lightly beside him, scanning the surroundings.
" You're a Pulse Attribute, use your speed," he said calmly. "You can outrun them." Taren nodded quickly, still shaking.
Elsewhere in the forest, the Eidolon Hollow Forest continued its selection.
Kael Draven moved through the mist like a force of nature. He didn't avoid Wraiths. He destroyed them head-on.
"COME ON!" Kael roared. "I WAS EXPECTING MORE!"
Every strike shattered multiple entities at once, shaking nearby trees loose. The forest responded with more pressure—but Kael only laughed.
In another zone, movement was precise and silent. Lio Vance stepped through mist without disturbing it.
A blade unsheathed.
One motion.
Multiple Wraiths collapsed mid-approach, cut apart with surgical precision. Kael appeared nearby moments later, carving through another group.
"You're still wasting time with pretty movements," Kael said.
Lio sheathed his sword calmly. "And you're still relying on noise instead of control."
Kael smirked. "At least I finish things fast."
Lio replied quietly, "Speed without control is just panic with strength."
A brief silence passed between them. Familiar. Unresolved.
Deep within the forest, something moved without sound. A Wraith lunged— and stopped mid-motion. A thin blade had already pierced its core. Then another, and another one.
The mysterious girl, wielded an elegant, thin rapier. Her movements were minimal, refined, almost artistic. Each strike was precise—no wasted motion, no visible emotion.
Mist Wraiths fell like cut shadows.
She did not speak. Did not pause. And when another candidate accidentally crossed her path— she was already gone.
The Eidolon Hollow Forest changed as the cycle progressed. Mist density increased. Aether pressure intensified. Safe zones disappeared.Candidates were forced into survival decisions: fight, flee, or vanish. Only those who adapted remained conscious by the final hour.
At the end of the cycle, Aether pillars descended through the canopy. Candidates were pulled out—scattered, injured, exhausted. Silence followed. Then counting began.
From hundreds who entered— only a fraction returned. Kael stood covered in dust, laughing under his breath. Lio adjusted his blade quietly.
The hooded girl stood apart, expression unreadable, rapier still clean. Taren sat on the ground, breathing heavily—alive, but shaken.
And Renn… stood as if the forest had never truly touched him.
A knight stepped forward.
"Stage One complete."