While Auron was counter-scheming what Asha Ariel was probably planning on how to milk him out of his Stone skill, an entirely different scene played out on the vast wastelands.
***
Wastelands – team 7
The cracked wasteland shimmered under the hot sun, rock formations casting thin slivers of shade over the baking terrain. Every breath was dry. Every step kicked up dust. team 7 moved cautiously, eyes peeled for movement. The Wastelands didn’t forgive hesitation.
“Sh*t.. I can still feel the heat through my shoes,” muttered Bryce, wiping his brow with a shaky hand.
“Save your whining,” Adriana said flatly, her black hair tied up in a tight braid. Her fitted uniform clung to her curves with sweat, the fabric accentuating her wide hips and toned legs. Every time she moved, Bryce had to force himself not to stare, but still couldn't help it.
She glanced over her shoulder. “Keep your eyes on the terrain, not my ass.”
He choked, nearly tripping over a rock.
Behind them, Killian – the only Peak Bronze-Rank tamer of the group – raised a hand. “Hold up, i think i heard something.”
Everybody froze.
A moment passed. Then another.
Suddenly, the brown intrinsic rune on Killian’s arm pulsed with life, spreading down to his palm.
“Beast space: Bronze saber Wolf.”
A shimmering light flared as the beast tore its way into reality. Lean, muscled, with glinting silver eyes and clawed paws that crushed stone, the Bronze Saber Wolf snarled at the heat, at the dust—at everything really.
Adriana followed, her rune flaring a second later. “Beast Space: Emberclaw Lizard.”
Her summon appeared shrouded by steam and fire, a crimson-scaled lizard with burning eyes and a tail that flickered with molten heat.
Bryce hesitated.
“Now, Bryce,” Killian growled. “Or you’re just dead weight.”
Bryce gulped and gritted his teeth. A faint brown intricate rune came to life and glowed, barely.
“Beast Space… Spiked Beetle!”
A palm-sized bug with spiked legs and darting movement materialized in the air before dropping unceremoniously to the ground.
Adriana let out a quiet snort.
They advanced.
Ten minutes later, things went to shit.
A roar erupted behind a cluster of shattered stones. Something big, fast, and probably pissed.
“Attack!” Killian shouted.
The Bronze Saber Wolf leapt forward, intercepting a massive shadow that launched from the side. It was a beast—twice the size of the wolf. Reinforced muscle limbs, dark fur, and absurdly long claws.
A Beast.
Silver rank. Maybe mid-Silver rank.
It shouldn’t be this far into the inner wastelands zone, but this wasn't the time to contemplate such senseless thoughts, it wasn't supposed to be here, yet here it fucking was.
“surround it !” Killian shouted, but Bryce stumbled back instead.
Adriana’s lizard, following her mental command, lashed out, shooting a jet of flame that licked across the beast’s shoulder. It screeched, recoiling—but only for a second.
Then it turned on Bryce.
The guy had fallen, arms raised, screaming.
The beast lunged.
Time slowed.
Blood sprayed.
But not Bryce’s.
A hand cut through the air, catching the beast’s neck and slicing clean through.
It collapsed in a twitching heap.
A new shadow stood behind it.
Tall, pale and crimson eyes. Silver hair fluttering in the heatless wind.
Lena Rune.
She knelt beside the corpse, fingers brushing against its temple.
“You were outside the designated threat zone,” she whispered to the body like it might answer, then she looked up.
Her eyes cut through the squad like knives.
“If this was real and i wasn't overlooking this training exercise,” she said, her voice ice, “you’d all be dead. Especially you.”
She pointed at Bryce, who was now shaking, staring at the blood on his clothes.
“I–I panicked—”
“No,” she said. “You hesitated.”
She stood, brushing blood off her wrist. “Squad 7 is done for, you're not even worthy of participating in the preliminaries if this is what you amount to. Your mistake nearly cost a life. And next time…there won't be a next time” She trailed off, walking past them without a glance.
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Adriana stared after her, breathing heavily. She turned to Bryce, almost pissed.
“You’re lucky you’re pretty, because you’re goddamn useless.”
Bryce blinked, still on the ground. “Y...y..you think I’m pretty?”
“Shut up,” she snapped, though her cheeks flushed. “Get up and move.”
As they trudged back toward the academy, the broken carcass of the beast steaming in the sun behind them, one thought echoed in all their minds:
They weren’t ready, they had been sheltered from the real world for a long time.
Meanwhile, in another part of the Wastelands...
The sun hung low in the sky, casting a pale, golden glow over the landscape. While Auron and his team had landed near steep cliffs and mountains, Arthur’s group had drawn a far worse hand.
They stood atop a cracked plain, overlooking a wasteland ravaged by elemental storms. The rocks here were just...fucked up—they were shattered, scorched and bent like tortured steel from years of unnatural pressure.
Arthur squinted into the darkening sky. “Alright, team,” he said, voice dry. “We find shelter, we establish a perimeter, and we survive while we somehow hone our skills.”
His team of five were mismatched but somehow competent.
Riven, a cocky, sharp-jawed, always shirtless, despite the academy's strict rules stood at the back of the team analysing any potential threats.
Kara on the other hand was a blue eyed beauty of thighs and spite. She didn’t talk much, but when she did, someone usually shut up.
Zeke, pale and soft-spoken, the kind of guy who whispered creepy facts about beasts structures while drawing intricate, unnerving sketches of beasts on his skin.
On the front beside Arthur was Mila, her top barely qualified as a shirt having cut down the academy's uniform to its bare minimum, yet what made her stand out was her particularly unique trait she did whilst summoning her contracted beast, well...she summoned her beasts while moaning like it was foreplay.
On the far back was Fel, who seemed particularly normal until he opened his mouth. The damn dude talked and judged everyone like he paid everyone's rent.
Arthur looked at them and sighed again. “We are so fucked.”
Yet here they were preparing for the academy's preliminaries. Learning from the wastelands and learn they did that the wastelands weren’t forgiving.
Especially the endless dunes, cracked plateaus, and the occasional unprecedented storms that hummed with dark energy. Beast space interference was high, but they could still form runes with concentration and will.
They made camp near a particularly large stone they had found that looked as if it had been pretty much vomited up by the earth, black and sharp-edged. Perhaps something had died here—maybe high-level beasts, maybe people, maybe...the concept of safety.
Riven stretched his hands in the air, bare chest gleaming with sweat.
Fel poked his had out of his cloak and sniffed disdainfully. “Disgusting.” About to start whining for the upteenth time
Arthur rubbed his eyes. “Can we please not start like this?”
Before he could finish muttering out his dissatisfaction , the temperature dropped.
Sharply...too sharply.
The fire they had already lit sputtered as the light dimmed. .
Followed by the arrival of something...
THUD... THUD... THUD...
Something huge. Something wrong.
He snapped his fingers in preparation before a brown rune spiraled outward, intricate and pulsing. From it, his bonded beast erupted in a flash of light—a shadow-wolf with amber eyes and bone spikes jutting from its spine all the way to the back it's head.
The others were already up.
Kara formed her battle style before her rune flared into life. “Finally, our first beast encounter, i was starting to think i scared them away.”
A smirk tugging at the edge of her lips.
Her summon crashed into existence—a two meter armored boar.
Riven finally awake, laughed like the maniac he was, before a bronze rune pulsed across his bare chest. “Let’s fucking go!” A sleek, horned sparrow burst from his beast space, wings cracking the wind as it screeched overhead.
Mila bit her lip and...moaned softly as she established a connection with her contracted beast—her rune forming between her...thighs, glowing through the thin fabric of her barely-there shorts. A massive, velvety spider with glowing spinnerets dropped beside her, twitching with venom.
Zeke, ever the creep, cursed softly before a rune spiraled into existence . A beast emerged in a crawl of black limbs and bone—a weird messed up horror made from stitched corpses, falling under the undead beast category.
“Go say hi,” he whispered.
Then the beast stepped into view.
The creature was...massive.
At least ten feet tall, its body a grotesque fusion of sinew, chitin, bones and some fucked up sh*t. Its back arched like a monstrous feline, but its legs bent backward—like a mockery of evolution.
Its head was too long. Its horns spiraled like barbed spines, and the faint runes etched into its messed up flesh glowed a sickly, pulsating crimson.
Its eyes burned.
Not with curiosity.
With hunger.
“...We’re so fucked,” Mila whispered again, a little too turned on, however this time a hint of seriousness was laced in her voice.
What stood before them was not a normal wastelands beast but a corrupted one.
One far more dangerous than your regular average beasts
This were beasts that were believed to be born from the wastelands itself.
Nobody exactly knew how they came to be, but they were exceedingly rare, but apparently not rare enough, since here one was, knocking at their doors, maybe happy it had found it's dinner?
Whatever it was, it didn't matter cause they had already identified it.
The trait that gave it away? it's exceedingly unique fucked up appearance, guess they couldn't have everything.
Yet what truly set them aside was their...uh...coping ability.
Yeah didn't sound overpowered but in the battlefield it was a real game changer.
The monster pounced.
Riven's sparrow dove, screeching aiming for the beast's supposed weak spot— its head, but before it could even make contact, the beast raised its enormous paw and swatted the intermediate bronze rank sparrow midair as if it was trash.
Riven screamed as his soul connection burned through his veins, see, when beast tamer's beast suffered damage beyond their pain tolerance level, some of it was channelled to their beast tamers. He dropped, seizing.
Kara’s boar rammed the creature, tusks gouging flesh. It screeched—then grabbed the boar by the spine and snapped it in half. Kara screamed, her rune flickering as the feedback slammed into her chest like a hammer.
“Move!” Arthur shouted, his beast howling at his side.
Zeke’s stitched horror clamped onto the beast’s back, digging claws into muscle. It slowed the monster—but only for a second. It bent unnaturally and bit the horror’s shoulder off. Zeke stumbled, blood pouring from his nose.
Fel didn’t speak, he didn't need to. He just pointed.
Then a pulse of bronze light cracked the air.
His beast arrived.
A sleek, black-furred cat with six legs, glowing eyes, and teeth made of ice. It slammed into the beast and actually pushed it back.
“Finally.” Arthur muttered.
But the creature remained still, unfazed about to unleash its first serious move, it began to cope...more like mimic, it had adapted and was about to prove yet again why corrupted beasts weren't to be messed with.
Runes flared along its arms—mocking their own. It formed its own runes...no... glyphs...it was coping by copying.
A trait that made corrupted beasts a pain in the ass for beast tamers to deal with.
And birthed a twisted, half-made version of Arthur’s wolf.
“It’s copying us!” Fel shouted.
“It’s learning our fuck*ng tames!”
The thing lunged again.
Arthur and his wolf moved as one— muscle and instinct. The ground exploded under their feet. Dust blinded them, claws grazed skin. Arthur ducked, spun and dodged.
Mila groaned as her spider lunged for the beast, trying to sink it's fangs in an attempt to poison the beast.
Arthur’s wolf leapt again, jaws snapping around the corrupted wolf’s neck. It held—but barely. The corrupted beast thrashed and bit deep into Arthur’s wolf, ripping a chunk from its shoulder. Arthur hissed, feeling the pain like his own.
“We’re not gonna win this,” Zeke gasped, crawling toward his discarded blade. “We stall and wait for instructor Lena to step in or we fuck*ng die.”
Arthur's voice was grim. “Then we stall.”
Riven, still bleeding screamed, “HEY SHITHEAD!”
He stared at the beast before him, his willpower burning inside him, he refused to die inside a training test set by the academy...more like by a fucked up instructor who thought this was the Ideal training idea, then he burst into glowing runes, aura flaring like a mad god. His sparrow, half-reformed, flew again—bathed in fire and desperation.
They bought seconds.
Just seconds.
Enough for Arthur to scream, “Retreat pattern! Disengage your contracted beasts!”
One by one, the beasts vanished.
Arthur’s Shadow-wolf stayed the longest—bloodied, panting, glaring up at the monstrosity.
Then the runes pulled it back.
The beast watched them run.
Didn’t chase.
Just... stared.
Followed by a gurgling, choking sound as if it was taunting them.
Zeke whispered, “It’s letting us go?!.”
Fel spat blood. “No. It’s hunting us now. Just... playing with its food.”
Arthur stumbled back, breath heaving, eyes locked on the fading silhouette.
They were bruised, battered, bleeding.
But alive.
For now.
And the scene faded to black.
Yet in another place not far off in the wastelands.
A dry wind swept the cracked earth, whispering through thorny scrub and towering stones like a dying thing trying to breathe. Somewhere in the distance, beasts howled and growled-guttural calls that made the bones of the weak tremble.
Team ten had no time to tremble.
“Form the fucking formation! Stay eyes wide and summon your beasts!” Amelia barked, yet another peak rank bronze beast tamer squad leader. Her arms were wrapped in makeshift leather, while her blue hair fluttered in the wind, giving her a mesmerising charm.
Across the formation, Casper groaned, blood spluttering from a tear across his thigh. “We’re not ready for this.
These weren't the regular bronze rank beasts they had faced previously at the edges of the wastelands. These beasts were different, they were hunters, baptised in multiple life and death battles.”
No one disagreed.
Around them, the team trembled.
They’d only been in the Wastelands for a day and already the place felt like it wanted to swallow them. But they weren’t alone.
“Bronze summons! Now!” Amelia roared.
Brown intrinsic runes sparked into life across the team’s arms and necks—ancient shapes, passed down through blood or carved into their very bones through contracts—and beasts poured from the runes.
A Steel wild cat, fur blue and shimmering like wet ink, materialized beside Amelia. It snarled, baring rows of teeth that gleamed faintly green—poisoned, as it should be.
To her left, Casper summoned a flaming badger-like beast with eyes like glowing coals.
The air thickened.
To the back of the formation, Alice, the only other girl with a peak bronze rank beast, stood tall, hips cocked slightly as if she were bored, though her eyes were sharp and sweeping.
Her blonde hair fell down her back in sleek waves, tied loosely at the base of her neck. Her standard academy's pristine garb was unbuttoned, clinging tight to a curvaceous body that made more than one student miss a cue when she walked by. Even now, in the middle of a damn life-or-death encounter, Casper kept glancing at her ass like it was more dangerous than the beasts closing in.
“Alice,” Amelia snapped, “I need that whip-beast of yours—now.”
A smile curved her lips. “Fine. Let’s make it scream.”
Her hand shimmered with life as an exceedingly bright rune burned hot on her arm— brown and flickering —and from the rune emerged a Serpentine beast, all muscle. It hissed and coiled around her legs like a jealous lover before darting forward into the brush, its leafy tendrils lashing out.
Then the beasts came.
***
Similar scenes played out across the vast wastelands The same pointless conversations, battles and all, just varying in intensity.
Yet while all these events unfolded, a striking beauty watched it all from the sidelines her silvery hair flowing to her back, crimson eyes cold and unyielding.
Her presence was like a storm—frigid and overwhelming.
The students were breaking.
Some adapted. Some fled. Some fought like cornered animals.
“She only stepped in when the line blurred between struggle and death. Like now.
The appearance of a corrupted beast hadn’t been part of the plan—
And yet, she watched with quiet interest.
After all, every good forge needed fire.”