STEEL LOTUS

Trial by Blood

Twenty survivors stood in a ragged line.

Kaito counted them twice. Each face bore the same expression—relief mixed with fear. They'd passed the first test. But the culling wasn't over. It had only just begun.

Commander Morita paced before them, his white robes pristine despite the rain. Behind him, the shattered remains of Kaito's testing orb still lay scattered across the courtyard.

"Congratulations," Morita said, his voice dripping with false warmth. "You've proven you have potential. Now you must prove you have the will to use it."

He gestured toward the far end of the courtyard. A steel cage rose from the ground, its bars humming with cultivation energy. Inside, a massive boar pawed at the dirt. Its tusks were jagged, its eyes wild, and its core radiated a beast's raw fury.

"One of you will enter the cage," Morita announced. "You will fight the beast. You will kill it. Or you will die trying."

The candidates exchanged nervous glances. Kaito studied the boar. Its power level was low—barely the equivalent of a first-stage cultivator. But it was fast. Strong. Driven by hunger and rage.

"The first volunteer," Morita called out, scanning the line.

No one moved.

Kaito's jaw tightened. He'd already drawn too much attention. He needed to stay invisible. To let others take the risks while he gathered information.

But the boar's growl echoed through the cage, and something stirred in his chest. The Testament pulsed. It wanted blood.

*"Claim it."*

Kaito stepped forward.

"I'll go."

Morita's eyes gleamed with interest. "The unpredictable one. Very well. Enter the cage."

The gate swung open. Kaito walked inside, feeling every pair of eyes on his back. The boar turned toward him, snorting, its massive frame tensing for the charge.

He had no weapon. The rusted knife was still hidden beneath his clothes, but drawing it would expose his desperation. He needed to look strong. Confident. Like a man who belonged in this place.

The boar charged.

Kaito's *Sight of Ending* activated automatically. He saw the beast's death—a blade driven between its ribs, the same way he'd killed the enforcer. But he didn't have a blade.

He had his hands. His feet. His broken core.

The boar closed the distance in two heartbeats. Kaito dropped low, rolling beneath its tusks. He came up behind it, his fingers finding the gap in its armor-like hide.

His core pulsed. Weak. Pitiful. But alive.

He drove his fingers into the boar's flank.

The beast screamed. It thrashed, trying to throw him off, but Kaito held on. His fingers sank deeper. Blood poured over his hands. The Testament surged, drinking the power of the kill before the beast even died.

The boar collapsed.

Kaito stood over it, breathing hard, his hands dripping crimson. The candidates stared in silence. Even Morita looked impressed.

"Interesting," the commander murmured. "Very interesting."

Kaito walked out of the cage. His core throbbed, stronger than before. The Testament had fed. It wanted more.

"Next," Morita called out, his attention already moving elsewhere.

Kaito found a shadowed corner of the courtyard and collapsed against the wall. His hands wouldn't stop shaking. The blood on his skin felt like fire.

"Impressive technique."

He looked up. A young man stood over him, broad-shouldered and calm, with grey eyes that studied everything. His left hand was missing two fingers. The wounds were old.

"You killed that beast without a weapon," the man continued. "Most can't."

Kaito forced himself to his feet. "Who are you?"

"Hiroshi Tanaka." The man extended his good hand. "I saw your orb explode. You've got something strange in your core."

"I've got nothing."

Hiroshi smiled. It wasn't friendly. "Everyone's got something. The question is what they're willing to do with it."

Kaito didn't take his hand. "Why are you talking to me?"

"Because I need allies." Hiroshi lowered his arm, his expression hardening. "The academy is a den of snakes. Everyone here wants something. Power. Status. Revenge. The ones who survive are the ones who know when to work together."

"You don't know me."

"No." Hiroshi's grey eyes met his. "But I know desperation when I see it. You've got the look of a man who lost everything. I recognize it."

Kaito's chest tightened. He forced his expression neutral. "You're wrong."

"Am I?" Hiroshi leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I saw the way you looked at Commander Morita. Like you wanted to kill him."

Before Kaito could respond, a bell rang across the courtyard. Morita's voice cut through the noise.

"The culling is complete. Twenty remain. You are now official initiates of the Imperial Academy of the Divine Edge."

The candidates cheered. Some collapsed in relief. Others embraced.

Kaito felt nothing but cold calculation.

He'd survived. He'd drawn attention. He'd made an enemy of Morita—or at least, an object of suspicion.

And now Hiroshi Tanaka wanted to be his ally.

A man who'd seen too much. Who knew too much. Who was missing two fingers and carried a weight of his own.

"Tomorrow," Morita announced, "your real training begins. Rest while you can. The academy doesn't tolerate weakness."

The candidates dispersed. Hiroshi lingered for a moment, his grey eyes holding Kaito's.

"I'll find you tomorrow," he said. "We'll talk more then."

Then he was gone, disappearing into the crowd.

Kaito stood alone in the rain, his hands still covered in boar blood. The Testament hummed in his core, hungry and patient.

He had no allies. He couldn't afford them. Every person who got close was a vulnerability, a crack in his armor.

But Hiroshi had recognized him. Recognized the desperation. The hunger.

And that made him dangerous.

Kaito turned toward the dormitories, his mind already racing. He'd find out what Hiroshi wanted. He'd use him if he could.

And if he couldn't—

The Testament pulsed.

—he'd dispose of him.