Alden von Crestvale's POV
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Alden landed lightly on the cracked, dusty soil of the Deserted Isle, his boots raising a puff of red sand as he surveyed the barren landscape. The sun blazed overhead, unfiltered and ruthless, yet he looked unfazed.
Stretching his arms with a yawn, he muttered, "Alright. Let's see what this stupid 'Entrance Exam' has in store."
Just as he finished that smug thought, a low growl echoed behind him.
Alden didn't even turn. He thrust his sword backward with effortless precision, impaling a Barkwolf that had pounced from the shadows. It let out a whimper before disintegrating into light particles.
+10 points.
"Still no challenge," Alden sighed.
He'd already carved a trail through the local fauna. A herd of novice-rank Flame Lizards? Gone in under two minutes. A pair of intermediate-rank Razorback Boars? Barely managed to scuff his uniform.
Every now and then, a human candidate or a group would cross his path—some trying to talk, others attempting ambushes.
He brought up his EVOband with a flick of his wrist, the screen hovering midair in front of him.
Ranking: 245/1,000,000
Points: 2780
He grumbled, "Tch. I was hoping to be in the top 100 by now. All these weaklings are slowing me down."
"yeah. Too easy," he muttered, brushing dirt off his shoulder. "I swear, if I don't run into at least one advanced-rank monster or a decent opponent soon, I'm going to die of boredom."
As if the universe heard his complaint, he suddenly froze.
Multiple presences.
His senses flared, detecting faint rustling in the trees, shallow breaths, the scrape of boots against gravel.
Then they stepped out.
One by one.
From behind trees, out of tall brush, even from beneath hidden traps.
Alden's smirk widened as he counted.
Forty.
Forty candidates surrounding him.
"Well, well, well," Alden muttered with an unhinged grin forming. "Looks like someone heard my prayer. Finally."
He let out a laugh—no, a full-blown maniacal cackle that echoed through the twisted forest.
"Man, this was getting really boring! Now I can finally have some fun!"
A figure stepped forward from the encircling group.
Tall, lean, black hair swept back with precision, wearing the noble crest of House Simon.
"Long time no see, Alden," the man said coolly.
Alden tilted his head.
"…Who are you?"
The reaction was instantaneous. The man visibly twitched and nearly tripped over a root.
"It's me! Jordan van Simon!" he snapped. "We fought in the Westwind championship one year ago! I made it to the semi-finals!"
Alden blinked.
"…Never heard of it."
Jordan's eye twitched so hard it looked like it was about to fall out. Several of his subordinates chuckled quietly.
Truth be told, Alden remembered him perfectly. Jordan had a decent sword style and was even invited to a few noble banquets. But Alden made it a point never to remember mediocre people—at least not out loud.
"So…" Alden grinned wider, "You're saying you weren't man enough to face me alone and had to bring forty guys just to feel brave?"
Jordan clenched his fists, face red with fury, but forced himself to speak.
"If I can eliminate you before you enter the top 2000, then it's worth it. I can forget my pride for that much."
Alden clicked his tongue in mock disappointment. "So this isn't about the tournament then? How sad."
He leaned his weight casually on one leg and said with a glint in his eyes, "Tell me the real reason. Before I turn you into fertilizer, I want to know what I'm dying for."
Jordan grounded his teeth so hard Alden half-expected sparks. But then he spoke.
"…It was after the tournament. My girlfriend—Serena Durell—she… she dumped me."
Alden raised an eyebrow." So what do I do find another girlfriend for you. Sorry dude I don't run Lover.com for pitiful guys who get dumped by their girlfriends."
At that even the candidates surrounding him was trying to hold back themselves from not to laughing but some stll slipped.
Jordan seethed at that but he still continued, voice rising, "I saw her talking to you at the celebration banquet. Laughing, smiling—flirting. And then… she kissed you."
Alden blinked.
Then laughed.
Loudly.
Like the kind of laughter that made trees shake and birds flee." Dude I don't even remember that chick."
"And what you're telling me…" he gasped through tears, "is that I NTR'd you without even knowing?! HAHAHAHA!"
Some of the 40 surrounding candidates were clearly trying not to laugh. A few failed. One even choked on his own spit.
Jordan's face turned a dangerous shade of purple.
"You think this is funny!?" he roared.
"Yes."
"You ruined my relationship!"
"You ruined it by being forgettable."
"You—!"
Jordan raised a hand and screamed, "ATTACK!"
Alden's expression shifted.
From playful… to cold.
All 40 surged at once.
But Alden had already moved.
A step to the left. A backflip. A twist.
Swords missed him by inches.
He ducked a spear, kicked a hammer-user into a tree, then parried three attacks at once with a single flick of his wrist.
"Thanks for the entertainment!" he shouted mid-combat. "I was really getting bored."
Then, without warning, his sword ignited in brilliant orange flames.
The fire danced like it had a soul of its own, wrapping around the blade like a living entity.
A few candidates froze.
"Is that—?"
"Fire resonance?"
"No way, that sword looks enchanted—!"
"Retreat! We're not equipped for—"
"TOO LATE!" Alden roared.
He slashed the sword in a wide arc. A crescent of fire surged forward, knocking back five candidates in a burst of flame and smoke.
"You guys came all this way…" he grinned, eyes blazing like his sword, "you might as well enjoy the full course."
Jordan, still fuming, charged with a battle cry, aiming straight for Alden's head.
Their blades clashed—steel on steel.
But the moment their weapons met, Jordan's sword melted slightly at the edge.
"What the—?!"
Alden smiled. "Sorry, forgot to mention. My sword eats cheap metal."
"You cocky—!"
"Accurate!"
Jordan tried to cast a barrier spell, but Alden's free hand lashed out, fire coiling from his palm and exploding in a burst that knocked the noble heir several feet back.
The other candidates surged forward again, now attacking with ranged spells and support skills.
"Ah, good," Alden muttered. "Now you're really trying."
He moved like a blur, his sword a flaming comet. Fireballs collided with ice spears. Smoke and sparks danced through the clearing.
A whip-wielder tried to bind him—he severed the whip mid-air and kicked the wielder unconscious.
A healer tried to protect their group. Alden spun mid-air and knocked them out cold with a blunt hilt strike before severing their heads from their shoulder.
"You brought healers too? Wow, someone really planned this like a field trip!"
As the chaos escalated, Alden seemed to enjoy himself more with each second.
He wasn't just fighting.
He was playing.
At one point, he even looked at his EVOband again mid-battle.
"Let's see… Points now at 2930. Not bad."
Another candidate screamed and launched a wind blade.
Alden ducked, letting it slice past him and hit someone else by accident.
"Wow," Alden laughed, "Friendly fire much?"
The forest now resembled a war zone. Smoke filled the air. Burnt trees. Craters. Moaning, fallen candidates.
And Alden, at the center of it all, with a flaming sword, surrounded by sparks and chaos.
He pointed the sword at Jordan, who was barely standing, breathing heavily.
"I'm not done with you yet," Alden said with a devilish smirk. "Let's finish our little reunion properly.
There are still atleast 30 of you left for me to play with."
Jordan's hand trembled.
He raised his blade.
And Alden surged forward.
And with that, the forest was engulfed in fire and fury as chaos erupted the next second.