The Crimson Tyrant's Forbidden Source

The Hunting Ground

Chapter 8: The Hunting Ground

The transition from the Spartan lifestyle of Earth to the absolute decadence of the hidden realm was bridged by three trunks of reinforced cedar. Eva stood in the center of the common area, watching Nora unlatch the brass clasps of her family luggage. The minor nobility of the continent might have been considered scraps by the five great houses, but compared to the mundane world, their wealth was staggering. Silk dresses infused with low grade defensive arrays gleamed under the apartment's quartz lights, shimmering with a faint, iridescent protection.

"Take this one," Nora said, pulling out a structured gown of deep silvery ash. "It’s woven from moonlit silk. My mother had it tailored in case I was noticed by a regional scout, but my flame attribute is too volatile for it. Your energy is cold, Eva. It will adapt to the fabric better."

When Eva emerged from the private bedroom minutes later, Nora actually stopped breathing. The dress didn't just fit; it clung to her like a secondary layer of armor. The silvery ash moonlit silk draped elegantly down her frame, accentuating her sharp, athletic silhouette, while the dark undertones of the fabric matched the predatory coldness of her pitch black eyes. She didn't look like a commoner who had scrambled through a life changing trial. She looked like a warrior disguised as royalty.

"Stunning," Nora murmured, her reckless grin returning. "If the legacy heirs wanted to treat the mutations as prey tonight, they are going to choke on the bone."

The entrance to the General Hall did not feel like a gateway to an orientation ball. It felt like the jaw of a sleeping beast, waiting to swallow the uninitiated whole. Massive double doors made of polished ironwood stood wide open, pouring a brilliant, almost blinding golden luminescence into the grand corridor. The air inside smelled of expensive ozone, refined essence, and the underlying, suffocating pressure of hundreds of legacy heirs.

Eva stepped through the threshold, and the shimmering lights and musical sounds instantly assaulted her senses. Her eyes immediately began scanning the vast room, taking in the sheer opulence and debauchery that filled the hall. She couldn't help but mentally refresh her knowledge about everything she knew regarding this academy. Looking around, she could barely believe that this was the exact same hall where the brutal assessment ritual had been conducted just hours prior. The physical terrain of the entire hall had completely changed, shifting from three complex floors to just two wide, sweeping levels. Everywhere glimmered with overwhelming wealth, entirely replacing the ancient, weathered atmosphere the structure had exuded earlier.

Suddenly, a sharp vibration scraped against the back of Eva's mind, activating her innate key. The sensory auxiliary trait twitched, drawing her attention to the crowd. She looked around and spotted the other two prominent girls from the trials. Serena was clad in a tight, backless dress, her waist length black hair shimmering under the gleaming chandeliers. On her neck sat a silver necklace heavily encrusted with red glittering jewels, and she held a dark red purse with effortless grace. Next to her was Lydia, whose hair was elegantly tied back in a tight bun secured by a diamond hairpin. She wore a long cyan dress featuring a daring split that reached her thighs, complemented by a pair of matching diamond earrings.

Lydia caught her gaze and offered a polite, measured smile across the floor, whilst Serena ignored her existence entirely, treating her like thin air. Eva quickly averted her eyes, unbothered by the snub, and turned her attention toward the far corner of the room. There, she couldn't help but notice the muscle brained Bulin. He was laughing boisterously across the hall, surrounded by a group of high born guys she recognized from the awakening ritual. Bulin was wearing a rigid military suit, except his was dyed in deep black and gold, proudly sporting a prominent family crest shaped like a reinforced shield.

Sitting thoroughly bored and entirely unimpressed by the chaotic atmosphere of the room was Julian. Unlike the Westernized suits of the other heirs, Julian wore traditional, flowing Chinese-like attire. A long, layered Changqun skirt of dark spiritual silk flowed all the way down to his leather boots, paired with a structured top embroidered with luminous sea pearls. The pearls seemed to actively absorb the ambient light, connected by tiny, intricately woven gold chains. On his left wrist sat a translucent jade bracelet, and draped loosely over his shoulders was the unmistakable symbol of the Sterling family.

It was the classic scarlet veil that those terrifying figures and the envoy of death wore, except Julian's veil cloak wasn't purely scarlet. Instead, it carried a distinct, deep purplish hue. Eva just assumed it was another type of internal family hierarchy, a natural byproduct of the social Darwinism prevalent across this entire continent.

But what caught her attention even more was the boy sitting directly next to him. Lozac sat there looking as if he had completely blended into the very atmosphere of the room. Eva always wondered how he managed to look so profoundly unimpressive that he could be completely forgotten even when sitting right next to a high profile heir. As far as she was concerned, there were very few occupations in this world that required that specific brand of terrifying, localized finesse.

"Don't look down on those accessories, some of them might be their natal weapons, but it's hard to tell since it isn't broadcast unless you physically see them draw them," Nora whispered, leaning in closer to bring Eva back to the immediate surroundings. "Most of the high born freshmen have already contracted their Natal Weapons. Their families prepare them for years before the awakening."

"And you?" Eva asked quietly, her eyes still scanning the layout of the tables.

"I’m waiting," Nora muttered, her eyes flashing with a sharp spark of unyielding ambition. "The best spiritual items are created by one of the five noble families who are uniquely talented in weaponry and craftsmanship. As long as your backing is big enough, a weapon can be custom made according to your exact requirements and elemental attributes; a tool perfectly suited for you and born for your hands alone. Though, there are other weapons with quality that easily rival theirs hidden inside the academy's secret realm, but those are entirely up to fate and luck. You never know what's waiting for you in there."

Nora paused, taking a sip from a passing waiter's tray before continuing in a low whisper. "Although, there is one other way. During a person's initial awakening, the massive burst of raw energy can automatically condense around any nearby object it feels suits your soul. It turns it into a spiritual tool on the spot, automatically forming a flawless contract with the Original Qi deep within your core, making it your absolute natal weapon. But that is incredibly rare. Almost legendary."

Eva nodded slowly, her mind meticulously cataloging the mechanics of the world. A true Natal Weapon required an Original Qi contract. Because she had awakened her source back on Earth, completely isolated from the natural laws of this hidden realm, she was entirely empty handed. Worse, she wasn't even sure if she could contract a spiritual tool at all, considering she lacked even a single drop of true Original Qi within her current body.

She would need to think of severe, calculated countermeasures just in case she was permanently unable to contract a spiritual tool. Otherwise, against these armed legacy heirs, she was as good as a sitting duck.

A sudden, collective hush fell over the western side of the hall as the massive projection of the School Forum flickered violently. The golden ink began shifting, displaying a secondary set of hidden, encrypted data across the phantom parchment. The underground counter culture of the Chaos Rankings was already updating in real-time, pulling metrics as the five major factions began actively tracking the movements, dresses, and alliances of the incoming freshmen.

Eva watched as the music died down and a middle aged man who looked like a scholar ascended the platform that has now become a stage and cleard his throat on the mic.

The hunting ground was officially open. But looking across the sea of arrogant nobility and hidden monsters, the real question remained: who would be the hunted, and who would be the hunter?

Amongst all these birds of prey who will be the Hawk and who will be the chick?