Tenebrous Wolf
Chapter 58: Test Evaluation

Chapter 58: Test Evaluation

Three weeks later, Lancer Jet gathered all the Aspirants in an underground coliseum. So to say, this was a place hidden from the outside world. For some reason, they were all instructed to gather in the upper floor with a transparent glass at the front. Beyond that glass below was a pure white room that seemed incredibly spacious.

Glancing around the vicinity, Klaus spotted a few familiar faces; Miguel, Elena, Cecilia, and more importantly, the fully recovered Seraphim.

According to Yuki, Seraphim had regained consciousness after his last visit to the infirmary three weeks ago and was discharged the next day after a thorough evaluation by Nurse Vespera.

Still, he felt conflicted. He had yet to apologize for putting her in the infirmary for a whole week, and she might even resent him for it. Perhaps that was why he hadn’t been able to bring himself to say anything because he was afraid of how she would react.

... Maybe he was just a coward. Klaus has already accepted that.

Not to mention, who knew what would happen if he actually confronted her? The last time he did so, he blanked out for a few seconds and cracked her skull with a punch. He didn’t want a repeat of that incident, not until he fully understood what had happened.

What a pity. I thought I’d be able to apologize, but it seems I don’t have the courage. I didn’t expect her to be Yuki’s sister, though.

Thinking so, Klaus inadvertently recalled both Seraphim’s and Yuki’s features. If one had silvery-white hair, the other had silvery-blue. If one had an athletic build, the other did not. At a glance, the two looked quite similar, but upon closer inspection, they each possessed their own distinct characteristics.

He didn’t know much about Seraphim’s personality, so he couldn’t make a comparison in that regard. But surely, she had to be more expressive than the ever-expressionless Yuki... right?

With a sigh, Klaus refocused his attention forward as Lancer Jet’s voice rang out, commanding the room’s attention.

"Good day to you all. I’m sure many of you have questions, while some may already have an idea of what I’m about to say. Today, you will undergo an important assessment. It’s nothing more than a practical demonstration of what you’ve learned so far. Think of it as a mid-term evaluation. However, due to certain... complications, we were forced to move this up a little earlier than planned."

Complications? What kind of complications? Klaus thought with a sense of unease creeping in.

Lancer Jet continued:

"You don’t have to worry. The test isn’t anything too complicated. Based on the progress of your training, all of you should be able to pass, regardless of your ability or skill."

He then cast a glance toward a group of officers, who responded with a silent nod before disappearing around a corner.

Moments later, the doors at the far end of the white room slid open, and a group of individuals in bodysuits, armed with assault rifles, stepped inside. At first glance, they looked like prisoners; tense, uncertain, and radiating a mix of anxiety and despair, but what truly confirmed their status as "prisoners" was the black collar around each of their necks.

The name of that collar was the "Requiem Shackle." A device engineered to suppress the abilities of rogue Awakened captured by the Empire. Klaus had no idea how they managed to create something capable of restraining Chaos itself, but the results were undeniable. Once someone was deemed a prisoner, they were bound like a dog, stripped of their power and their means of resistance.

Additionally, any attempt to tamper with the collar resulted in a sharp "Biri~ Biri~" shock as a warning. But if a prisoner racked up too many infractions or was classified as too dangerous to be kept alive, the Requiem Shackle had a far less forgiving function. It would simply detonate and send their precious heads on a "Bye~ Bye~" trip to the afterlife.

I see. As expected, the Empire is truly merciless. Klaus thought with a half-hearted smile.

The moment they appeared, a ripple of unease spread through the gathered Aspirants. Murmurs broke out, hushed but urgent, as everyone tried to make sense of the situation.

Looking at the Vestiges, Klaus noticed that they didn’t look too worried or surprised, indicating that they already knew. Instead, they seemed a little serious. Just where do they obtain their information from? He wondered.

Seeing the puzzled reactions and questioning gazes of the Aspirants, Lancer Jet spoke up:

"I see some of you are confused. Good. That means you still have a sense of normalcy left in you. But let me make one thing clear; out there, in the real battlefield, you won’t always be given an explanation before chaos unfolds. You either adapt or you die."

Saying so, he gestured toward the prisoners standing in the white room below.

"These individuals before you are criminals, rogue Awakened who have committed acts of treason against the Empire. Some are murderers. Some are traitors. Others are simply... failures." His lips curled slightly, but whether in amusement or contempt was unclear.

Klaus narrowed his eyes. There was something off about how he phrased that last part.

Disregarding his thoughts, Instructor Jet continued further with a somber expression:

"Your task today is simple. I won’t sugarcoat it, your only goal today is to kill those criminals. If you do, you pass. If you fail... well, let’s just say failure isn’t an option."

A few Aspirants stiffened. The word ’Kill" seemed to change the gears inside their head. Klaus even heard someone curse under his breath.

Standing a few feets away, Cecilia frowned and immediately raised a question.

"Please forgive me Instructor, but I must ask why we’re fighting lowly criminal. Haven’t we been training to fight Hollows, not people?"

In response, Instructor Jet simply chuckled.

"People? I haven’t heard anyone call criminals ’people’ in a long time. That depends on how you view them, after all." His gaze flickered toward the glass, where the prisoners stood motionless, their collars occasionally beeping and flashing red. "But I can’t say I don’t understand where you’re coming from. Even if they’re criminals, they’re still people... I’d expect that kind of thinking from those who haven’t experienced the true hardships of the outside world."

His eyes suddenly turned sharp.

"The world isn’t as great as it seems, and the Shadow Realm is even worse. It is unforgiving, cruel, and downright sadistic. Morality holds no weight there. If you hesitate to kill, you’ll simply die and become food for some damn abomination." His voice grew colder. "Those men in there are no different. Anyone who abuses their power and takes innocent lives can no longer be called human. If you give them the chance, they will end you and they’ll make sure your deaths are slow. There are no second chances when you’re bleeding out on the battlefield."

Silence filled the room.

Klaus glanced around. He could see it. Within their eyes of the aspirants, their fragile sense of morality was slowly collapsing.

Perhaps satisfied, Instructor Jet rolled his shoulders and straightened his standing posture.

"If you still worried about killing them, then know this, the Empire has already deemed them expendable. They’re being given one last use, which is to help train you so think of them as training dummies and hit them with all your might."

Then, he clapped his hands once.

"Alright, enough talk. The assignments have already been decided." He gestured toward the officers who had returned, each carrying a tablet. "Your names will be called, and you will proceed to your designated area. Do try not to disappoint."

One by one, names were read out. Aspirants began moving toward different sections of the glass-enclosed area, where doors would lead them down to the testing grounds.

The rest, who were waiting for their turn, either watched the ongoing matches or browsed the walls, selecting weapons that suited them best. The selection was vast with various weapons like firearms including melee weapons, but out of everyone, only one person chose a gun.

Klaus spared the peculiar figure a brief glance before turning away.

He approached a wall lined with weapons and reached for a sword. Drawing it from its sheath, he examined the blade. It was smooth and razor-sharp.

A monomolecular coating... He ran a finger lightly along the edge. With this, cutting through iron would become extremely plausible.

Satisfied with his selection, Klaus returned to his spot near the transparent glass, gazing beyond as he patiently waited for his turn.

There were no casualties among the aspirants, but some of them were injuried. This was either due to a lack of skill or their sense of morality hindering their performance. Well, the death roll inmates were certainly executed, that’s for sure.

Some of them died really grotesque and painfully deaths, especially under the top rankers. Miguel and Seraphim were incredibly fierce, but Cecilia seemed a little bit shaken after killing of her targets successfully.

Before Klaus knew it, his turn was rapidly approaching.

Beside him, Adrian, who had been silently observing the executions, was called next. He stepped forward. As expected, his weapon of choice was a spear.

"Wish me luck."

"Yeah. Make sure to break a leg."

Hearing that nonchalant reply, Adrian chuckled before striding into the arena.

His opponents were five death row inmates. Their grips tightened around their weapons, fingers hovering over the triggers, waiting for the signal to begin.

Finally, a loud buzzer rang.

Before the prisoners could react, Adrian was already in motion. With a single step, he vanished from his starting position and accompanyed by a sharp gust of wind, he reappeared in front of the nearest prisoner, spear thrusting forward in a precise, lethal strike.

The prisoner barely had time to raise his gun before the spear tore through his chest, puncturing his heart in an instant. Blood sprayed across the white floor as Adrian yanked his weapon free, spinning on his heel to evade the hail of bullets that followed.

The remaining four inmates opened fire. The sound of gunfire echoed throughout the coliseum.

Needless to say, this was just an act of desperation, nothing more. Klaus was no strategist, but even he could tell that those death roll inmates had no idea what they were doing.

They were all consumed by fear and shooting frantically with no formation whatsoever. In the end, it was just feeble resistance.

After dodging yet another frantically fired bullet, Adrian leaped gracefully, flipping backwards and spun the spear in his hands in a blur, deflecting some of the bullets while others missed entirely. Before his feet even touched the ground, he kicked off the wall behind him, and launched himself toward his next target.

In the fraction of a second, the spear slashed across a prisoner’s throat, severing his windpipe in one go. He collapsed, choking on his own blood.

The remaining three inmates scrambled as their initial confidence was replaced with sheer panic.

Klaus thought it was just his imagination, but it almost seemed like Adrian was toying with them.

Rather than finishing them off quickly, he weaved between them and dodged their frantic attacks with ease. Every movement was calculated. Every step was precise. It was as if he was dancing through the battlefield, unbothered by the bullets whizzing past him. Well, anyone with powers would be unbothered if their opponents had no idea what they’re doing.

Then, in a blur of motion, he struck again.

One inmate was impaled through the gut, his body lifted off the ground before being slammed down violently. Another had his arm severed before a swift kick sent him sprawling. The last one, realizing the hopelessness of the fight, tried to flee only for Adrian’s spear to pierce through his back, pinning him to the floor like an insect skewered to a board.

Just like that, the entire battle was over.

Adrian stood amidst the carnage with his spear dripping with blood.

The fight had lasted less than a minute.

A buzzer rang once more, signaling the end of the match.

Klaus let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Adrian sighed before flicking the blood off his spear and turned toward the exit. As he walked out, his expression remained neutral, as if the entire fight had been nothing more than another day of training. No, rather than a fight, the word ’execution’ seemed more appropriate because that was completely one-sided.

Clap! Clap! Clap!

Slapping sounds could be heard. For a split second, Klaus remembered something inappropriate before his focus shifted to the smiling Instructor Jet as he watched Adrian approach.

"How splendid. As expected from an Aspirant from the Lei Feng Family. However, it’s truly a shame that you didn’t inherit your family talents."

Hearing that, Adrian immediately frowned and the corners of his mouth twitched quite irritabile. Klaus could feel a surge of anger from his shoulders.

In such a situation, he wore a shocked expression.

Because this was the first time he had seen Adrian get upset by something, especially what someone else said. What exactly could have caused such a swift mood change?

"Aspirant Nikolaus, come forward for your examination."

Finally, his name was called.