Chapter 51: Hunting in the Dark

Night had settled over the forest.

Caelus stood in a small clearing with his eyes closed, his breathing steady as the Eclipse Ring rested against his finger. Moisture hung thick in the air, giving his awareness more to work with than it had during the day. He could feel movement through the disturbances around him, subtle enough to miss with ordinary senses but clear enough to follow if he concentrated.

Two night ghouls circled the clearing from the trees, searching for an opening. Caelus tracked both without opening his eyes, following the disturbances they left in the humid air.

Needles shot toward him from different directions.

Caelus didn’t move from his position. He felt each projectile cut through the moisture around him and shifted only when necessary, tilting his head or turning a shoulder to let them pass.

One passed close enough to brush his cheek with its wake. Another sliced through his sleeve, while a third buried itself in the tree behind him.

A fourth never reached him. Caelus caught it against the flat of his blade.

He was testing how far that perception could carry him now that darkness and humidity worked in his favor.

His effective range seemed to hover around fifteen meters under these conditions, though distance wasn’t his only concern. The more disturbances he tracked at once, the harder it became to separate individual movements from the background noise of the forest.

The ghouls adjusted quickly.

One remained among the trees, firing from concealment while the other closed the distance. Their attacks stopped arriving at predictable intervals. One forced him to shift while the other fired into the space he had been pushed toward.

Caelus finally opened his eyes.

Blind confidence had its limits.

A needle grazed his shoulder and drew a thin line of blood. Another slipped past his guard close enough to his throat that he instinctively leaned away.

They weren’t giving him enough room to stand still anymore.

He gave ground, repositioning between the trees as his blade knocked away a projectile aimed at his chest. The second ghoul attacked from above before he had fully recovered, forcing him to pivot beneath it.

He misread one attack.

His timing slipped by just enough for the needle to tear through his sleeve and score his forearm. He recovered before the second ghoul could exploit it, but the lesson was clear enough.

Relying on perception alone was not enough. He had to combine perception with footwork, swordsmanship, and positioning. He began moving deliberately, forcing the creatures to react to him instead of the other way around.

The pattern was simple once he stopped reacting to it. One ghoul controlled his movement; the other punished wherever he was forced to go.

So Caelus stopped giving them the position they wanted.

He stepped toward the more aggressive creature instead of retreating, cutting across the space between them before it could settle into another firing angle.

He activated Water Sheathe.

A magic circle formed over the blade, and the compressed Water Blade settled along its edge. The pressure shifted when he changed direction, the same instability he’d noticed before, but this time he adjusted his angle before the spell could lose its shape.

The blade cut across the creature’s torso, opening a deep wound without killing it outright. It staggered backward, one hand pressing against the gash as blood ran between its fingers.

The second creature attacked immediately, sending needles toward the opening he’d created. Caelus pivoted through the barrage, but one caught his side and left another shallow cut.

The wounded creature broke toward the trees, trying to put distance between them.

Caelus raised his hand and formed a gun shape with his fingers.

Death Stalker.

The Water Bullet tore through the trees, rotating fast enough to hiss through the air.

It cut between two trunks, dropped lower, then curved after the ghoul.

The projectile drove into its neck. The creature slammed against a tree, tried to push itself upright, and collapsed.

The second creature came for him immediately, refusing to retreat.

Its needles forced Caelus to give ground again before he could close the distance. He caught one on his blade, slipped past another, and finally stepped inside its reach.

Water Sheathe flickered along the blade.

He cut through its arm, then drove the sword into its torso before it could recover.

The ghoul collapsed.

Caelus remained still long enough to make sure neither moved again. His shoulder and side stung, but the injuries were minor.

His perception was becoming easier to use at night. The extra moisture gave him more information, but knowing where an attack was coming from meant little if his body couldn’t respond in time.

He retrieved the Soul Cores and stored them in his Ring.

His day had been spent hunting low-C creatures.

Most died quickly. A few forced him to use his spells more carefully, and each encounter gave him a better sense of which parts of the island were worth searching. He collected more edible plants, fruits, and whatever else looked useful along the way. He also learned which routes allowed him to avoid unnecessary fights without taking him too far from the areas where creatures gathered.

His Ring was steadily filling with supplies, though food remained the most inconvenient resource to acquire.

By now, his clothes were stained with monster blood, and several scratches marked his arms and sides. None were serious, though they’d accumulated often enough to become annoying.

Caelus raised a hand.

"Cleanse."

The blood and dirt disappeared from his clothes, leaving the scratches beneath untouched.

The outer regions were no longer worth his time.

The creatures were too weak, and their points didn’t justify the time spent hunting them.

If he wanted first place, he needed to move toward the center, where the creatures were stronger and the rewards were more substantial.

He considered stopping for the night. The creatures would be more active in the darkness, and traveling through unfamiliar territory always carried risks.

Then he looked into the trees.

Night wasn’t a disadvantage for him anymore. The increased moisture gave his perception more information, and the darkness made it easier to detect movement without being seen in return.

Most candidates would probably treat night as a reason to slow down.

Caelus adjusted his grip on the sword and continued toward the center.

---

On the observation platform, the spectators watched the rankings change.

Most of the numbers shifted only occasionally. Candidates fought, regrouped, searched for safer ground, or simply tried to survive another hour.

One number refused to slow down.

Eve — 763 points — Rank #1

Lucien — 184 points — Rank #8

.

.

.

.

.

Caelus Vespera — 23 points — Rank #463

Seid looked at the accompanying display, where Caelus moved through the forest with his sword in hand.

There was nothing flashy about his movements. He advanced carefully, pausing whenever his surroundings changed, his attention fixed on threats rather than the spectacle of the examination.

Seid frowned as his attention shifted to Eve’s display.

"This is..."

He didn’t finish.

Eve’s score changed.

771.

A few eyes returned to the scoreboard.

Before anyone could comment, the number changed again.

779.

Then—

788.

Feyer’s attention briefly returned to Caelus’s display.

The boy had been using chantless magic throughout the examination.

That should have been remarkable.

Instead, it made several teachers distinctly uncomfortable.

One instructor leaned forward, studying the display with narrowed eyes.

"Caelus Vespera is using chantless casting."

The statement hung in the air.

Water Affinity was already uncommon enough in serious combat applications. Most of its established spells were practical, defensive, or supportive. Useful, certainly, but hardly something associated with creating new combat techniques.

Caelus had taken one of those ordinary principles and altered it.

Then used it without an incantation.

"He’s a bastard son," one of the older instructors muttered. "How does someone like that suddenly arrive at the academy with techniques like those?"

Another teacher didn’t answer immediately.

His eyes remained fixed on the display.

Several gazes shifted toward him.

"He was supposedly D-potential not long ago. Now he’s a C-rank mage with chantless casting, custom Water techniques, and enough control to use them during live combat."

His voice lowered.

"Every new detail makes the Contractor rumor harder to dismiss."

The room quieted.

No one wanted to say the thought aloud, but it was already there.

A student with talent was one thing.

A boy whose background, sudden advancement, and unexplained spell knowledge seemed to contradict everything expected of him was another.

Especially when that boy was already suspected of being connected to the Contractors.

Eve’s score rose again.

792.

That drew their attention away from Caelus.

Then—

801.

A few instructors exchanged uneasy looks.

One of them folded his arms.

The observation platform became quieter.

Lucian remained near the top of the rankings, but Eve had already separated herself from nearly everyone else. Her score continued climbing while the Hero’s remained comparatively steady.

"The Hero is currently eighth," the teacher said. "If this continues, Eve could pull far enough ahead that even a later surge won’t be enough for him."

"And?"

The teacher hesitated.

"If the Hero loses to a commoner..."

He didn’t need to finish.

The Church had invested heavily in the Hero’s position. His status was not merely that of another exceptional student. He carried expectations far beyond the academy.

Her win could complicate things.

Politically.

Perhaps worse.

"No one said the Hero has to place first," another instructor remarked.

"No. But the Church won’t see it that way."

Seid looked back toward the displays.

Eve’s score climbed again.

Caelus’s display remained active beside the others.

His score was nowhere near the top.

Twenty-three points.

Rank four hundred and sixty-three.

On the surface, he appeared irrelevant.

But the teachers had already noticed what the scoreboard failed to show.

He wasn’t fighting like a desperate student trying to survive.

He was testing techniques.

And every time he cast one of those strange Water spells, another question appeared in the minds of those watching.

Where had he learned them?

How had he developed them?

And why did a supposedly ordinary bastard son possess techniques no one else had seen?

Seid stared at the display without speaking.

Fayer’s usual amusement had disappeared as well.

At the back of the platform, Headmaster Dover watched the same display.

His eyes rested on Caelus’s.

He glanced at Veyra beside him before returning his eyes to Caelus.