The summons came at dawn.
Sirius rubbed sleep from his eyes as he followed Cor down the Citadel steps. The city was still half-asleep, the sky a pale wash of blue, floodlamps dimming against the rising sun. The barrier shimmered faintly in the distance, a dome of light against the horizon.
Cor said nothing as they walked. He carried his katana as always, but Sirius noticed the absence of a training blade in his own hands. No wooden sword. No practice gear. Only the clothes on his back.
When they reached the southern gate, Sirius finally asked, "Where's my weapon?"
Cor stopped. His gaze cut down like a blade. "Not today. Today you don't need a weapon. Today you need to survive."
The gate guards looked away as the Immortal guided Sirius beyond the safety of Insomnia's barrier. The hum of magic faded behind them, replaced by the empty breath of the wilds. Dry wind tugged at Sirius' hair, carrying the scent of dust and stone.
Cor halted at the edge of the road. "No supplies. No steel. No food. You'll return when you can walk back alive."
Sirius blinked. "How long?"
Cor's eyes didn't waver. "As long as it takes."
Then he turned and left.
The gates shut behind him. Sirius was alone.
---
The Leide desert stretched endless under the sun. Rocks jutted from the earth like jagged fangs, and sand hissed against his boots with every step. By midmorning, his throat was already parched. Sweat rolled down his back, soaking his shirt.
He searched for water first. Zangan's lessons echoed in his head: Find shade, find tracks, follow the earth to where it dips. Sirius crouched, scanning the ground until he found faint claw prints etched into the sand. Sabertusks. Dangerous. But beasts needed water too.
He followed the trail cautiously, staying low behind rocks. Soon he found a shallow basin where thin reeds pushed through the dirt. A puddle glistened faintly at the bottom. The water was muddy, but it was water. Sirius knelt and cupped his hands, drinking greedily until the ache in his throat eased.
By midday, hunger gnawed at him. His stomach growled with every step. He searched for anything edible—roots, small creatures—but the land was barren.
When the sun hit its zenith, he saw them.
Sabertusks. A pack of three prowled the basin edge, their fangs glinting as they lowered their heads to drink. Sirius froze. His heart pounded. Without a blade, he was prey, not hunter.
He crouched lower, holding his breath. One sabertusk sniffed the air, ears twitching. Sirius pressed himself into the rock, muscles tight, every instinct screaming to run. The beast lingered, then turned back to the water. Sirius exhaled, slow and silent.
Not strength. Not speed. Silence.
The creed whispered in him, unbidden.
---
By evening, the sun bled into the horizon. Sirius dragged himself beneath a jagged outcrop of stone, curling into the narrow space. His body ached, his stomach twisted in knots, but he was alive.
He closed his eyes, and the system flickered faintly in his mind.
Status Update
HP: 64%
MP: 41%
EXP: Pending — Survival Actions Logged
The glow faded as quickly as it came. Sirius swallowed hard. Even here, even stripped bare, the system still watched. It tempted him—his inventory held potions, even his katana—but he clenched his fists.
"No," he whispered into the night. "Not yet. Not like this."
This was Cor's trial. If he cheated with the system, it would mean nothing.
The desert wind howled. Sirius shivered and pressed deeper into the rock, sleep pulling him into uneasy dreams.
---
The second day was worse.
Hunger gnawed constantly, sharper than any blade. His body felt heavier, slower. Every step cost more strength. He scavenged what he could—bitter herbs near the basin, barely chewable. He forced them down, gagging at the taste.
By afternoon, his vision blurred. His legs buckled once, sending him sprawling against the sand. He lay there, chest heaving, the sky spinning overhead.
A shadow passed.
Sirius forced his eyes open—and froze.
Far across the basin, in the shimmer of dusk, something moved. Too tall for a sabertusk, too thin for a man. Its limbs bent wrong, its form shrouded in a haze of black smoke.
A daemon.
Terror locked Sirius' breath. The thing's head tilted, as though sniffing the air. He pressed into the sand, every muscle rigid. His hand found a rock beside him, sharp-edged. If it came closer, he'd fight. He'd die, but he'd fight.
The daemon lingered. Its form flickered, black mist curling like smoke in the wind. Then, as the sun finally dipped, it turned and drifted into the dark.
Sirius lay shaking, heart hammering. His eyes burned with tears he didn't let fall. He gripped the rock until his knuckles ached.
Bleed without witness, the creed whispered.
He breathed, slow and ragged, until the fear dulled.
---
The third day blurred.
He found water again, enough to keep moving. He stumbled across smaller beasts—a dualhorn calf, too dangerous even young, and a cluster of scorpions whose stingers glowed faintly. He circled wide around them, unwilling to risk a fight.
By dusk, his legs carried him back toward the shimmer of Insomnia's barrier. His lips were cracked, his clothes filthy, his body trembling with exhaustion. But he was walking. Still alive.
Cor stood waiting at the gate.
Sirius staggered to a halt, chest heaving. He expected judgment, perhaps even disappointment. But Cor's expression was unreadable as ever.
"You survived," he said simply. "That's the first step. Next time, you'll learn how to do more than survive."
No praise. No smile. Just truth.
Sirius clenched his fists, feeling the dust grind against his skin. His stomach still ached with hunger, his body screamed with fatigue—but inside, something burned.
The creed was no longer words. It was in his bones now.
Protect unseen. Bleed without witness. Survive.
He walked back into the city, the barrier's light washing over him, and swore silently: this trial would not break him. It would forge him.