The moment the iron gates groaned open, the atmosphere shifted.
The weight of expectation, the scent of old blood, and the chilling wind that carried the whispers of the abyss—everything changed as soon as they stepped beyond the walls. It was as if the world outside the fortress existed under different laws, ones where death was an ever-present shadow lurking just out of sight.
Kalem took in the sight ahead. Even from a distance, it was impossible to miss—the abyss.
A colossal rift, a wound in the earth that never healed. Jagged rock spikes curled inward like fangs, forming what looked like a gaping maw ready to swallow anything that dared venture too close. The fortress-cities of Gehenna were built around this abyss, standing as unyielding guardians against whatever horrors clawed their way to the surface.
The deployment continued forward, boots crunching against the ashen ground. The land was barren, devoid of life. No grass, no trees—just twisted rock formations and scorched earth, a grim reminder of battles fought long before any of them had even been born.
"So, where exactly are we going, sir?" Kalem asked, keeping his voice level as he walked beside Garron.
"We'll be joining a skirmish," the veteran replied. "The survivors among the new recruits will be given specific tasks afterward. If you make it through, you'll have the choice to work under someone or operate independently."
Kalem raised an eyebrow. "And how exactly are you going to keep track of us?"
"Any individual who sets foot in Gehenna has their mana signature automatically recorded. The supervisors will be using that to monitor and track you. If you try to run, they'll know. If you die, they'll know."
"I see," Kalem mused, his gaze flicking toward the horizon. The darkened sky ahead seemed heavier, thick with something unnatural. It was strange, but despite the foreboding nature of it all, he felt a thrill of anticipation.
Then, his instincts flared.
The shadows ahead shifted. The ground trembled—just slightly, but enough for Kalem to know what was coming before he even saw it.
He reached for his weapons. "Looks like my test came sooner than expected."
Garron smirked. "Well, show me what you've got."
"You aren't going to help?"
"I'll step in if you're about to die," the veteran said casually. "For now, back up that arrogance you were showing earlier."
Kalem set down the crate he had been carrying and flipped the latches open. With fluid precision, he pulled out two straight swords, their edges gleaming even in the dim light.
Then, the creatures emerged.
Abyssal beasts—twisted, grotesque things that bore no resemblance to anything natural. Their bodies were made of sinewy muscle and jagged bone, their limbs elongated and clawed. Their eyes—if they had any—were nothing more than glowing pits of hunger.
There were at least seven of them, their movements erratic but unnervingly coordinated.
Kalem exhaled, adjusting his grip on his swords. "This is manageable."
One of the creatures lunged.
It moved fast—far faster than any normal beast—but Kalem had been expecting it. He stepped aside just as its claws sliced through the space he had occupied a second ago. Before it could recover, he twisted his body and slashed downward.
His blade bit deep into its exposed back, carving through flesh and bone like softened metal. The creature screeched, a sound that sent chills down the spines of the newer recruits watching nearby.
Kalem didn't stop. He pivoted, bringing his other sword up in a wide arc to intercept another beast that had tried to flank him. Steel met chitinous hide, sparks flying as the edge found its mark.
Two down.
The others hesitated for only a moment before launching themselves at him all at once.
Kalem smirked. Better.
He ducked low, his movements fluid as he sidestepped one creature's strike while parrying another's with the flat of his blade. He kicked off the ground, flipping over the back of one of the larger beasts before driving both swords downward into its spine.
The weight of the strike sent it crashing into the dirt.
Three down.
The remaining creatures grew more frantic, their attacks wilder. Kalem, however, remained calm, his mind analyzing every movement. He wasn't just fighting—he was testing himself. Testing his speed, his reflexes, his endurance.
He danced between the abyssal horrors, his swords flashing as he cut them down one by one.
By the time the last one fell, twitching as blackened blood pooled beneath it, Kalem stood unscathed, his blades still gleaming.
Silence followed.
Then, Garron let out a low whistle.
"Not bad, kid."
Kalem wiped his blade clean against his sleeve before sheathing it. "I'd hope not."
Some of the other recruits stared at him, some in awe, others in quiet wariness. They had seen veterans fight before, but to watch someone new take down a pack of abyssal creatures without hesitation… that was something else.
Garron clapped him on the shoulder. "You'll do fine here."
Kalem simply nodded, but deep down, he knew this was only the beginning.