Hate_the_author

Chapter 47: The Seven-Day Harmony Trial

Chapter 47: The Seven-Day Harmony Trial


Inside the small air vessel were just two plush leather seats. There was no driving mechanism or anything like that, which made Kage suspect the airship itself was controlled by external towers between Pearl Harbor and the Mistral Archipelago.


It was just a suspicion—because how was it flying otherwise?


"Hey!!"


The man suddenly let out a sharp shout.


Kage slowly turned his head toward Renzo, a flicker of irritation crossing his face.


The man extended his hand.


"Bring me that apple on the shelf beside you."


Kage hesitantly looked beside him, and indeed there was a half-eaten apple sitting on the metallic outcrop of the vessel’s interior.


He picked it up like he was holding a woman’s handbag and passed it over.


Renzo immediately dug in and chewed a bite. After finishing, he gave Kage an incredulous look.


"Why are you sitting?"


Kage was... confused.


"I don’t remember you telling me not to?"


"Neither do I remember telling you to."


Kage suppressed the urge to frown and forced a grin instead.


"There were two seats."


"How brazen of you to assume the second was for you."


He tilted his head and gave Kage a baiting smile.


"You can order my execution, young bastard of the Ironstorm clan... after you fail the academy tests."


Kage closed his eyes tightly, still grinning. Then he exhaled. With that breath, the air around him shifted completely.


He stood and stepped away from the chair, positioning himself in front of the lounging instructor.


Renzo, mid-chew, froze. He was both intrigued and stunned by Kage’s shift in demeanor. It felt as though the boy had smoothly transitioned from a bratty young master to a model academy student in an instant.


A smile spread across his lips, and he gestured at Kage with the apple.


"All that won’t work on me. But suit yourself."


He took another bite.


"As I said before, I’m Renzo Rashford. What I didn’t say is the funny story of how people came to call me Laughing Scar. But other people also call me the disaster who somehow has a teaching license—I like that one more, though it reads more like a novel title than a human one. But I like it either way."


He took another bite and looked at Kage like he was garbage.


"I’ll be one of your many observers for the next seven days, though you won’t see me. I’m excellent at hiding, terrible at paperwork, but excellent at hiding."


Renzo rotated his seat and crossed his leg over the arched armrest of the vacant chair.


"So! The Seven-Day Trial of Harmony. Let me tell you what you’re OFFICIALLY supposed to know, and I’ll tell you what actually matters."


He counted on his fingers mockingly.


"One: You have seven days to reach the Academy Gate at the top of Mount Harmony. The gate is north. Climb the mountain, reach the gate by sunset on Day Seven, don’t die. Simple. Two: You’ll get a wooden token. Lose it, you fail. Break it intentionally, you fail. Use it to hurt someone, you fail AND get arrested. It’s basically your proof you’re not a quitter.


"Three: You each get a sealed scroll. Don’t open it yet—you CAN’T open it yet. You’ll figure out how. Maybe. If you’re clever. If you’re not clever, well, natural selection is a beautiful thing. Four: The island has food, water, and shelter if you can find them. It also has genetically engineered wild beasts—wolves, boars. There are stone guardians, puzzles, ruins, and occasionally a very lost merchant who got drunk and wandered into the examination zone. Don’t rob him. We’re watching.


"Five: Survival rate is 85-90%. That means most of you examinees will be fine. ’Most’ is not ’all.’ Pay attention."


Renzo withdrew his leg and leaned forward on his knees.


"Now here’s what ACTUALLY matters, and I’ll only mention this once."


He held up a finger.


"One: This is not a race. Every year, some genius sprints off the dock, runs north for six days straight, reaches the gate exhausted and proud—and fails anyway. Why? Because we’re not testing if you can run. We’re testing if you can SURVIVE. There’s a big difference."


He held up a second finger.


"Two: You are not alone. Right now you’re thinking: ’Solo survival challenge, I must do everything myself.’ Wrong. Two thousand applicants will be—or already are—on the island. You WILL run into each other. What you do when that happens—help, ignore, betray, lead, follow—that matters more than you think."


He held up a third finger.


"Three: Everything is a test. And I mean EVERYTHING. How you react when you’re lost. What you do when you find food. Whether you share or hoard. How you treat someone weaker than you. Whether you give up when things get hard. We’re watching. We’re ALWAYS watching."


He gave Kage a conspiratorial look.


"Hell, I’m even watching how you react to THIS speech right now. Are you taking mental notes? Panicking? Giving up already?"


Kage stood rigid, not even the slightest muscle shifting on his face. His eyes locked on Laughing Scar, meeting his gaze without flinching.


It made the instructor frown slightly, but he scoffed and leaned back into his seat, taking another bite of his apple.


"Now, some practical advice from someone who’s seen seventeen of these trials. ADVICE NUMBER ONE: Read everything. Signs, scrolls, tablets, weird writing on rocks. If words exist on this island, they’re there for a reason. Usually to help you. Sometimes to warn you. Occasionally to mock you, but that’s educational too."


He laughed at his own joke.


"ADVICE NUMBER TWO: The island doesn’t want you dead. The beasts are aggressive, not rabid. The construct guardians will stop if you surrender. The water is clean. The berries are safe. We’re not trying to murder you—we’re trying to see what you’re MADE of. There’s a difference."


He paused, taking another bite and only speaking after he finished chewing.


"ADVICE NUMBER THREE: Help costs nothing and earns everything."


Now he gave Kage a serious look.


"Listen carefully. I’ve seen applicants with perfect combat skills, brilliant minds, and noble bloodlines fail because they stepped over someone who needed help. I’ve seen absolute disasters of human beings—clumsy, scared, weak—pass because they chose compassion over convenience."


He pointed at Kage’s face.


"This academy doesn’t need more talented assholes. The world has plenty of those. We need cultivators who’ll remember what they’re fighting FOR when things get dark. If you can’t help a stranger on Day Two, you won’t protect a city even if you become an Immortal."


He grinned and casually raised his head toward Kage.


"Oh, and the Silent Groves—you’ll know them when you see them. Very creepy, very uncomfortable, very much required to pass through. They’ll make you hear things. See things. Feel things."


He tapped his temple.


"Whatever voice tells you you’re not good enough? Not strong enough? That you should quit? That’s not the island talking. That’s YOUR fear. And fear is a liar. Walk through it anyway."


Renzo finally stopped eating the apple and pulled out a battered journal, waving it at Kage.


"One last thing. This is my Compendium of Magnificent Failures. Every year, I record the most spectacular mistakes, the funniest disasters, the most beautiful catastrophes. I have especially high hopes for you."


He grinned widely.


"But you know the silver lining? Every single person in these pages passed. Because failing doesn’t mean you’re done—it means you’re learning. The academy doesn’t want perfect students. We want students who fall down seven times and stand up eight."


His eyes glinted with delight as they lingered on Kage. Then he suddenly shouted:


"ALRIGHT! Final wisdom before I release you to your fate!"


He stood and spread his arms wide.


"The examination tests seven things: Combat, Scholarship, Artisanship, Leadership, Healing, Culture, and Spirit. You don’t need to be perfect at all seven. You just need to be decent at most and exceptional at one. Find your strength. Use it. Don’t pretend to be someone you’re not—we’ll notice. Reach the gate by sunset, Day Seven. Don’t lose your token. Don’t die. DO help others. DO solve puzzles. DO push through when it gets hard. DON’T betray people for no reason—we WILL expel you, and depending on what you did, we might also arrest you."


Renzo took a step back and studied Kage.


"Questions? No? Good, because I wouldn’t answer them anyway. Part of the test is figuring things out yourself."


He paused.


"Oh, wait—one kid always asks this every year: ’What if I encounter an Impure?’ The answer is: YOU WON’T. We cleared the island. If somehow you DO see one, break your token immediately. That’s the emergency signal. We’ll pull you out. Your life matters more than the exam."


His tone softened.


"Actually, that’s true for anything. If you’re genuinely in danger—not just uncomfortable, but DANGER—break your token. We’ll come. This trial tests courage, not stupidity."


He walked away and stood at the vessel’s window.


"We’re approaching..."


He pulled out a pouch and tossed it—Kage caught it smoothly.


"That’s your scroll and badge."


The airship began descending. Meanwhile, Renzo scribbled in his journal with a quill.


- Era of Reforging, Year 23 (HE 600), Plum Blossom month, Day 24. This one looks like he won’t make it to examination day three. Total wuss! Coward!