The morning was cold as a knife.

  The four woke with the first threads of the false golden light that fills the sky of this cursed place. No one spoke. There was no need for words. Words were a luxury they could not afford here, in this large prison they call an academy.

  San sat on a rock near the collapsed wall, watching Kai and his men as they prepared to go out. They were six. Six men, ranging in age between twenty and forty, their faces bearing the scars of years of survival in this hell. Their movements were precisely coordinated, as if an ancient dance repeated thousands of times. No excess talk. No unnecessary movements. Only pure, effective, deadly action.

  San thought: How long does one need to become like this? How many battles, how many losses, how many nights sleeping while his brothers die beside him?

  Shin stood beside him, his sword tied at his side, his eyes staring at the distant horizon where the walls disappear into the fog. He was calm, focused, like still water before the storm. Clarissa was behind them, examining her gloves and adjusting their tightness, testing their flexibility. Her face was hard, but San saw something in her eyes. Not fear. Something deeper. Something resembling acceptance.

  Elena remained in the camp. Her task was different. Watching, gathering information, communicating with others. The combat-weak stay behind. That was the law of survival.

  Kai advanced towards them. His steps were confident, heavy, like someone carrying a world on his shoulders. He looked at San, then at Shin, then at Clarissa. He said in a voice rough as gravel:

  "Today we hunt in the eastern region. There are herds of curses and there are some curses of D level. Not dangerous alone, but they are in groups. Stay close to me. Don't do anything stupid. And if one of you dies..." He paused for a moment, then continued: "We leave him. No time for the bodies of the dead."

  San nodded his head. He was not surprised. These were the rules here.

  They set off.

  ---

  The eastern region was a forest of dead stone. Leafless trees, rocks black as coal, a heavy grey sky as if about to fall. The smell was foul, a mixture of mold, dry blood, and ancient death. Every step raised grey dust that stuck in the lungs and made breathing difficult.

  They walked in formation: Kai at the front, his six men spread around him in a semi-circle, and San, Shin, and Clarissa at the back. San noticed the organization. He noticed how the eyes of the six men moved constantly, scanning every corner, every shadow, every small movement. He noticed how their hands were always on their weapons, ready, even in moments of false calm.

  These people did not just live two years here. They survived. And that was a big difference.

  San asked in a low voice: "How many times do you hunt per week?"

  One of the men, his name was Harun, looked at him. He was a man in his late thirties, his left arm covered with a long scar as if a monster's claw once tore it. He said: "Almost every day. Hunger does not sleep."

  San: "And how many of you return?"

  Harun was silent for a moment. Then he said: "Today six. Tomorrow we might be five. The day after... who knows."

  He said no more. He did not need to.

  ---

  The first attack came after an hour.

  There were three curses, each the size of a large dog, but faster and fiercer. Their skins were shiny black like oil, their red eyes glowing in the darkness, their claws long as knives. They lunged from between the rocks with astonishing speed, screaming that familiar terrifying sound that pierces bones.

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  But Kai's men did not hesitate.

  In an instant, the defensive formation turned into a killing machine. Swords left their sheaths like lightning, cursed energies ignited around bodies, feet moved in terrifying harmony.

  Harun killed the first with one strike. His sword pierced the curse's head like a knife through butter.

  Kai killed the second. His movement was so fast that San did not see it clearly. He only saw the flash, then the fall of the black body to the ground.

  The third tried to flee. But two launched themselves, they were faster. They lunged like an arrow, their swords drew an arc in the air, and the curse split in two before reaching the rocks.

  Silence.

  Then the formation returned as it was.

  San stood in his place, he did not move. There was no need. He felt that familiar feeling, the feeling of weakness, the feeling that he was the least useful here. Shin was a natural fighter, Clarissa was a tremendous force thanks to her Class C ability, even Kai's ordinary men were more experienced and capable than him.

  But Kai... Kai was different.

  Every time he moved, San tried to analyze him. Tried to understand his ability. But something was not clear. Kai did not use any special technique, any supernatural ability. Only strength, speed, skill. But his speed and strength were indescribable. They resembled Clarissa's, but more intense. More violent. More... experienced.

  San thought: Two years here. Two years of daily fighting, of constant fear, of seeing death every day. This is what it does to a person. This is what makes a monster out of him.

  ---

  During the following days, the scene repeated.

  Cold mornings, long marches through dead lands, short brutal battles, return with meat and skins. And every time, San felt that same feeling. The feeling that he was the burden. That he was the weakest. That his existence here might be a mistake.

  In the fifth battle, he almost died.

  There was a larger curse, closer to D+ level, faster and smarter than the rest. It pounced on San from behind while he was busy with another curse. He did not see it. He did not hear it. He only felt that cold sensation running down his spine a moment before impact.

  Shin was there.

  He lunged like an arrow, his sword intercepted the curse's claws inches before they reached San's neck. He pushed him forcefully away, then pounced on the monster with a series of quick strikes that kept the curse away. When it was over, he looked at San with sharp eyes. He did not say anything. He only nodded his head, thanking Shin, then returned to his place.

  But San saw the blood. The blood on Shin's shoulder. Where the curse's claws almost tore him had he not moved in the last moment.

  San thought: Without Shin, I would be dead now. Or worse.

  ---

  On the seventh night.

  They were returning from a successful hunting trip. Their bags were heavy with curse meat and skins, their steps lighter than previous days. The sun was setting behind the walls, the mountain, and they were moving around it.

  Suddenly.

  The calm that surrounded them exploded. From every direction, from every rock, from every shadow, the curses emerged. Dozens. Perhaps hundreds. Their red eyes glowing in the darkness like stars of death, their screams tearing the air like knives, their claws splitting the ground as plows split soil.

  An ambush.

  An organized, intelligent, deadly ambush.

  Kai shouted in a voice like thunder: "Circular formation! Protect the backs!"

  But chaos was faster.

  The first curse that fell upon San was large, massive, black as the color of night. Its claw struck his chest with tremendous force. He felt his bones break, felt terrifying pain, felt his body fly through the air like a doll.

  Then he fell.

  He fell from a very great height. The air was intense around his ears and eyes from the speed of the fall. He was tense, not knowing what to do. He almost used his technique to erase the pain in his chest, but he refrained from this. Treating my injury means my death from this fall, San thought like this. And in a moment. He approached from meters to a meter to centimeters. And he fell onto the rocky ground with tremendous force. He felt in every part of his body. The pain was indescribable. It was as if a thousand knives were stabbing his body at the same moment, as if fire was burning every cell, as if death itself was grabbing him with a cold hand and pulling his soul out.

  In that moment, in that single incomparable second, San felt something he had never felt before.

  Pain he had never felt. Ever.

  His body was shattering. His blood was exploding. The pain was blinding him. But in this moment of absolute despair, in this moment of final fall, he did something.

  He did his technique.

  Cursed energy exploded from his body like a flame, like a volcano. He did not think. He did not plan. He just acted. It was instinct. It was survival. It was everything he learned in his previous life, everything he learned here, everything he knew about himself, exploding in one moment.

  He felt his body move. He felt his bones heal partially, some of them at least. He felt his muscles contract, his tendons tighten, his blood stop flowing.

  Barely.

  He stood on his feet. The world was spinning around him. His vision was blurred, unclear, as if looking through moving water.

  A curse, heading towards him. Its eyes were focused on him. Its mouth was open, dripping black saliva. Its claws were extended, ready to tear him apart.

  And in that moment, in that single incomparable second, everything ended.

  The pain. The shock. The fear. The weakness.

  Everything ended.

  His consciousness faded like smoke in the wind. His body fell to the ground again, but he did not feel anything this time. He had lost consciousness before reaching the ground. Before the curse reached him. Before knowing his fate.

  The darkness swallowed him.

  When he opened his eyes again, everything was different.

  He was alone.

  ---

  No one knows how much time passed.

  Perhaps hours. Perhaps days. Perhaps only moments.

  San woke to indescribable pain. Some of his bones were still broken. He was lying on the rocky ground, in a place he did not know.

  He looked around. No companions. No Kai. No Shin. No Clarissa. Only dead rocks, and long shadows, and this terrifying silence that always precedes the coming of death.

  He tried to get up. He fell. He tried again. He fell. On the third time, he partially succeeded. He knelt, breathing with difficulty.

  He thought: How far am I from them? Are they still alive? Are they searching for me? Or were they forced to retreat, leaving me here to die alone?

  They were not angry questions. They were practical questions.

  He looked at his body. At his broken bones. Then he looked at the distant horizon, where monster shadows move, where death waits.

  He said in a faint voice, barely audible:

  "So... I am alone now."

  Then he began to crawl. A slow, painful crawl, towards anywhere, towards any hope, towards anything that might keep him alive for another minute, another hour, another day.