Chapter 49: Rules of the Hunt

The early morning air above the forward staging grounds was cold enough to cut through linen. Wet pine, ozone, and crushed iron leaf ferns perfumed the atmosphere.

The Thousand Mountain Forest did not appear as an arena at the outskirts of Silverwood City’s northern defense line. The canopy of dark green foliage towered overhead, rearing like a serrated snout of stone and vegetation. Beyond, the uppermost ridgelines were hidden by the perpetual grey thunderheads.

Two massive iron-plated Military Transport Skiffs hovered fifteen feet above the crushed gravel parade ground, their twin anti grav engines grinding in a deep subsonic rumble that sent dancing eddies of disturbed dust twisting across the staging grounds.

And on the threshold of the central command platform, Brigadier General Marcus Thorne stood.

A tattered strip of blackened gaffer’s tape marked the left shoulder of his uniform, the only remnant of medals and insignias earned in combat before the war. A jagged, near vertical slit running down the centre of his right pauldron was a permanent reminder of the battle that left him with second-degree burns across his entire right arm, and a single survivor’s medal.

Behind him, the senior instructors of Silverwood’s three prestigious academies stood in loose formation, each draped in the ceremonial robes of their respective institutions.

And at attention, below them, hundreds of students stood in meticulously ordered rows of one hundred.

Lucian adjusted the collar of his reinforced leather combat suit as the morning air grew heavier by the second.

Two hundred young teenager stood in tense, coiled formations of anxious energy, their voices already hushed in reverent anticipation. For three long years they had pored over the instincts of beasts, memorized survivalist theory, and studied the intricate laws of the predator-prey equation.

Now, they would see it in action.

A few feet to Lucian’s left, Evelyn stood motionless as the wind tugged gently at the tight silver ribbon that held her hair in a single thick braid. The sheath of her slim bladed rapier blade rested against her hip in an exact angle against the deep blue fabric of her combat trousers.

The young woman’s sharp amber eyes were not on the dark green foliage beyond the outer perimeter of the forest.

Her gaze lingered on the younger man at her side, studying him with the sharp, calculating gaze of a veteran hunter.

He isn’t wearing any additional body armour.

Evelyn’s eyes travelled up and down Lucian’s lean frame, taking in the details of his lighter tactical gear. Knee length combat boots made of reinforced leather, elbow length bracers of the same material, and a narrow double-edged blade of some exotic steel strapped to his belt.

Lucian caught the movement of her eyes.

For a long moment, their eyes locked.

A halfhearted nod was barely visible before Lucian turned away from her, his amber eyes narrowing on the dark green wall of trees beyond the outer perimeter of the forest.

General Thorne took his place at the threshold of the command platform, resting a meaty palm against the edge of the brass railing.

"Listen up, fledglings!"

The deep baritone of the brigadier general rolled out across the staging ground, amplified a thousand times by the raw power of his voice alone. The murmurs of anxious students faded away with the force of it.

General Thorne’s gloved hand opened, revealing a set of three glowing glyphs hovering in the air above the dark green wall of trees.

"The steel gate beyond this wall leads into forty thousand square miles of uncharted wilderness!"

The young general’s voice boomed across the staging grounds, sending a deep thunderous vibration through the thousands of gathered students. "You are no longer indoors in climate controlled environments. You are no longer sparring with wooden swords under the watchful eyes of experienced masters."

His fist clenched, sending the glowing glyphs scattering across the air. "Out there, the beasts do not care if your family has been in the merchant guilds for ten generations, if your mother and father own a string of prosperous estates, or if you scored a perfect eighty percent on the standardized theoretical combat exam!"

Lucian instinctively straightened. Around him, the students grew silent, their anxious murmurs swallowed by the thunderous authority of the brigadier general.

"When the hunt begins in exactly seventy-two hours, you will have one simple objective. Earn points by slaying corrupted beasts and bringing back the proof of their extermination; a token, or a ear torn from their diseased sockets. But don’t let the simplicity of the objective fool you!"

General Thorne raised a hand, and suddenly dozens of glowing glyphs bloomed into existence above the command platform, spreading out in clusters of three to form a rough circle around the gathered students.

"The terrain ahead has been broken down into three specific sectors," Vance said, his tone gone suddenly clinical and precise. "The Outer Fringe : a ten mile stretch of land between the gate and the line of trees you see before you. This area is home almost exclusively to First Order Stage 1 and 2 beasts, and has been cleared of all high-ordered threats forty-eight hours ago by our scouts."

The young lieutenant paused, then continued, "If you are inept with a blade and gun, stay in the Fringe. You will not score highly, but at least you will not die."

Vance moved on, indicating the area covered by the green and yellow glyphs. "The Inner Sector : twenty miles beyond the Fringe, and it is home to the Stage 3, 4, and high-ordered First Order beasts. The terrain is unforgiving, and visibility is poor. The beasts in this area hunt in packs, and only the most skilled hunters can survive the encounters."

He paused again, his voice darkening. "If you are not at the very least a Fourth Stage Martial Warrior, it is not recommended that you enter this area alone."

A final glyph pulsed with a sudden burst of crimson light, and Vance finally moved to the centre of the map. The display changed, revealing another patch of land bordered by jagged mountain peaks and wreathed in black mist.

"This area," Vance said finally, "is the Core Basin."

He lowered his voice. "It is off limits to all student personnel. Scouts have spotted multiple Second Ordered Beast entities within the region, equal in power to a human Martial Master Realm."

The young lieutenant’s voice grew colder. "A Second Ordered Beast is intelligent, territorial, and capable of manipulating the power of the elements."

General Thorne narrowed his eyes at the front lines of the academy’s most promising students. "If any of you arrogant little shits decide to explore the Core Basin simply because you think you’re special, write your last will and testament right now."

His eyes swept the rows of anxious young students. "If you meet a Second Ordered Beast, do not think you can defeat it. Do not try to prove to yourself that you are stronger."

He paused, his eyes locking onto each and every one of the students in turn.

"Forget your points."

Then, with a sudden burst of feral power, the general’s voice rang out across the staging grounds like a thunderclap.

"Turn around and run."

A murmur of discontent rippled across the staging grounds as the young students registered the words, but Lucian’s eyes were already tracking the points system displayed along the side of the holographic map.

THE HUNT POINT SYSTEM

First-Order Stage 1 Beast: 10 Points

First-Order Stage 2 Beast: 20 Points

First-Order Stage 3 Beast: 30 Points

(Each additional stage adds +10 Points, up to Stage 9.)

Second-Order Beast (Any Tier): 500 Points (Strictly Restricted)

"Your progress will be monitored," Vance continued, gesturing as a group of military officers marched by in formation, heavy steel cases of unknown contents clanking against one another with each measured step. "Each of you will be issued with a Military Emergency Beacon Watch."

One officer reached the front of the line and paused to open one of the steel cases.