Chapter 64: The Final Day [ Bonus - ]

Chapter 64: The Final Day [ Bonus Chapter ]

The seventh morning arrived beneath a ceiling of low clouds, and the mountains of Grauwald seemed to wake with a different kind of hunger.

There were no more nights to recover from injuries, no more opportunities to replace lost markers tomorrow.

Every applicant had until sunset to reach one of Helheim’s extraction stations with their examination token and whatever prizes they could defend.

Along the routes descending from the highlands, children who had spent six days hunting beasts now watched one another with hands resting on their weapons.

In the observation hall, Dietrich Falk examined the latest provisional standings. The formation recorded registered points, while observers estimated the unregistered cores and markers still being carried.

Those estimates were less certain, and the instructors knew better than to treat the glowing figures as final results. Nevertheless, the change since the third day was extraordinary.

Sigurd had climbed into first after the slaughter in the northern basin, but the gap was narrowing. Cassian had spent the previous day relentlessly hunting, Odin remained close, and Tristan had registered enough cores to threaten all three.

"Show the leading totals," Dietrich instructed, leaning over the table as ten names appeared beneath his hand.

Sigurd held two hundred and fourteen registered points. Cassian followed with two hundred and nine, Odin with two hundred and six, and Tristan with two hundred and one.

Kong Zhen had reached one hundred and ninety-seven. Below them stood Astrid, Konrad, Alaric, Isolde, and Matthias, each with enough points to make a late surge dangerous. Several carried unregistered prizes that might alter their positions at extraction.

Volker studied the narrow gaps and whistled. "Five points between first and second. Eight between first and third. After everything they’ve killed, a handful of Ferocious Beast markers could decide the Crown."

"Provided they reach extraction," Dietrich replied. "Watch the southern road. Half the applicants in that sector are moving toward the same station."

The road itself offered little room for peaceful passage. At one bend, a wounded applicant tried to conceal his pouch beneath his tunic while three others followed at a distance, whispering about how many cores he might carry.

Near a stream, two former hunting partners argued over a shared kill until one drew his sword and the other fled with the prize.

The scattered confrontations had begun feeding one another: every fight delayed the travelers behind it, every delay concentrated more competitors in the same narrow places, and every crowd gave opportunists another chance to choose a victim.

Helheim’s concealed observers tracked the movement from the slopes above, prepared to intervene only when the examination rules required it. The last day was revealing far more about the applicants than six long days of hunting ever could possibly reveal.

At Isolde’s camp, the trouble had already begun. Her alliance had survived beast attacks, injuries, and several attempts at robbery, but the approaching deadline exposed disagreements she could no longer settle through careful organization.

Twenty points guaranteed eligibility, not distinction. The stronger members wanted to pursue their own rankings, and those who had contributed most to communal hunts demanded a larger share of the remaining unregistered markers.

A red-haired girl named Marta stepped forward with two companions. "Isolde, we appreciate what you’ve done, but I won’t finish in the middle of the class because we’re still guarding people who can barely walk. I’m taking my share and leaving."

Isolde regarded her without anger. "The markers we agreed to divide are already divided," she answered. "If you want to leave, you may. But the injured applicants remain under our protection until they reach extraction."

Marta hesitated, then nodded. Others followed her, some offering awkward thanks, others departing without a word.

By the time Isolde finished reorganizing the remaining party, nearly half her original companions had gone. She watched them disappear between the trees before turning toward the stretchers waiting beside the campfire.

"We leave now," Isolde told the remaining applicants, tightening her sword belt. "Nobody gets abandoned because the finish line is close."

Farther north, Konrad stood over the remains of a Common Rank Demonic Beast, wiping his sword with a strip of cloth.

Two other carcasses lay nearby. For most of the examination he had treated attacks against him as amusing interruptions, but the final day had stripped away his appetite for leisurely games.

He checked the three cores, slipped them into his pouch, and glanced toward a trail where a group of applicants had stopped to watch him.

One boy recognized his face and began backing away.

Konrad smiled, but there was little warmth in it. "Relax," he told them, sheathing his sword. "I’m not interested in your markers. Unless you intend to make yourselves troublesome."

They cleared the trail immediately. Konrad passed without another glance, already considering the fastest route to the next hunting ground.

Cassian, meanwhile, had divided his companions into smaller teams along the eastern ridges.

Each group searched for marked prey and reported discoveries through agreed meeting points. He had surrendered several easy kills to younger members earlier in the examination; now he was taking the dangerous encounters himself.

When a horned Demonic Beast burst from a thicket, Cassian intercepted its charge, drove his blade beneath its armored jaw, and ended the struggle before his companions could surround it.

"Another core," one of them announced, kneeling beside the corpse. "That should put you closer."

Cassian accepted the prize and looked toward the mountains. "Closer isn’t enough," he replied. "We hunt until the road forces us to turn back."

On a rocky plateau, Matthias crouched beside a wounded Demonic Beast and watched it struggle to rise. He had already understood its attack patterns, but curiosity kept him there longer than necessary.

Finally he stepped forward, avoided a desperate swipe, and pierced its throat with a clean thrust. As he retrieved the core, distant shouts drifted up from the extraction road below.

"Everyone’s in a hurry," Matthias murmured, studying the blood on his blade. "I suppose I should be too."

He rose and headed toward the noise, his expression brightening at the possibility of meeting a worthwhile opponent.

The Great Branch contenders were converging from different directions. Astrid descended the western slope with fresh markers secured at her waist. Alaric emerged from the river valley after defeating a party that had attempted to block the crossing.

Elsa and Sabine approached along separate forest tracks, while Rolf followed a ridge trail so directly that he scattered two groups of would-be robbers without slowing.

Leander took the old bridge route, where the remains of earlier barricades still littered the planks. None knew precisely where the others stood, but every one of them understood what the last hours could change.

Helena was still several miles from extraction when she encountered a boy limping beside a fallen tree.

He recognized her and tried to wave her onward, insisting he could manage alone. Helena examined his swollen ankle, then looked at the dark clouds gathering over the ridge. She could not afford another long delay, but neither could he reach the station before sunset at his current pace. ℯℯ𝑙.

"Put your arm around my shoulder," Helena instructed, crouching beside him. "We can argue about whether you need help while we’re walking."

The boy obeyed reluctantly. Helena supported him down the trail, choosing a longer but gentler descent that avoided the loose scree near the cliffs.

At the northern approach, Odin found the main extraction road crowded with applicants watching a confrontation between two rival vassal parties.

One group had blocked the path with spears, hoping to demand unregistered markers from anyone attempting to pass. Odin surveyed the obstruction, then stepped forward as golden lightning flickered around his weapon.

"Clear the road," Odin ordered, his voice carrying above the shouting. "Anyone who wants a fight can have one after everyone else passes."

The spearmen recognized him and hurried aside. Odin continued downhill without looking back, conserving his strength for whatever awaited closer to the station.

Kong Zhen arrived at the same road minutes later and found the defeated barricade still being dismantled. He listened to the complaints, learned that Odin had frightened everyone into surrendering, and burst into laughter.

"Wonderful!" Kong declared, spinning his staff as he hurried after the crowd. "The whole mountain’s finally gathered in one place. I was worried the last day would be boring!"

Sigurd reached the upper southern trail as the afternoon shadows lengthened. His pouch was heavy with cores and markers, but he had no intention of trusting a provisional lead.

Cassian, Odin, Tristan, and Kong were all capable of overturning it before sunset. Below him, the extraction station’s signal banner moved in the wind, and armed applicants crowded the road leading toward it.

He rested a hand on his sword and began descending. The Crown was within reach, but reaching the station would not be enough.

He intended to finish first, and anyone standing between him and that result would have to convince him otherwise.