When Litte opened her eyes again, she found herself in the middle of a forest.
Beneath her was the floating carpet she had been sitting on earlier. Nearby was a lunchbox prepared by Vivian, and next to it lay a piece of paper.
Aside from these, there was nothing else.
The ti was now afternoon. Judging by the position of the sun, it should have been around two or three o’clock, leaving a few hours until sunset.
Litte picked up the lunchbox and noticed the note resting on it.
—
To Litte:
When you read this letter, I should already be back at ho.
This is a test for you. With your current strength, you won’t be able to pass the Imperial Academy entrance exam in seven days. That’s why I’ve brought you here.
This is the largest forest in the vicinity, and the beasts within it are regularly hunted by soldiers to keep their numbers in check.
Most of the beasts here are around Tier 1 in strength, making them excellent practice targets for you.
It’s often said that growth cos from hardship. I had hoped you could progress smoothly, but it seems I must subject you to challenges.
There’s a lunchbox beside you, prepared by Vivian. After eating, try to make your way out of this forest.
I’ve already returned ho and won’t be coming to rescue you. You can only rely on yourself.
If you die here, it will simply prove your lack of strength. I will disguise this as an unfortunate accident to ensure it doesn’t damage the family’s reputation.
As for how you feel about once you’ve made it out—whether you hate or not is up to you. By then, my task will be complete.
Sincerely,
Orson.
—
Litte froze after reading the letter and remained stunned for a long ti.
She couldn’t believe it. The elder brother she had always trusted—Orson—had abandoned her here.
What did he an by, “Most of the beasts are around Tier 1 in strength, making them excellent practice targets”?
She wasn’t even at Tier 1 yet! Leaving her here—wasn’t this just a roundabout way to have her killed by these beasts?
No, that couldn’t be right. Brother Orson had always been so kind to her.
For now, she needed to focus on getting back ho.
After finishing the lunch, Litte stood, wrapped the lunchbox in the carpet, and strapped it to her back.
Watching his actions from the shadows, Orson nodded approvingly.
In the wilderness, with no resources to rely on, even sothing as simple as a blanket and a lunchbox could be life-saving tools.
This forest was massive—it would take at least three days to get out.
—
An hour later, Litte was still making her way through the forest.
Common sense dictated that if one wanted to leave a forest, they should choose a single direction and persistently head that way without hesitation.
However, as Litte ventured deeper, the trees beca denser, and their towering heights made her question the correctness of her chosen path.
Had she chosen the wrong direction? Why did it feel like she was moving deeper into the forest instead of toward its edge?
Logically, the farther out she went, the younger and smaller the trees should have been. But reality wasn’t aligning with her expectations.
Even so, Litte stuck to her plan. Drawing the sword at her waist, she marked the trees before continuing in the sa direction.
From his hidden vantage point, Orson watched with satisfaction.
At least Litte wasn’t stupid and had his own ideas.
As evening fell and the sky darkened, Litte was about to face her greatest challenge yet.
It had been three to four hours since her last al. Given the physical activity she had been doing, she was likely feeling the pangs of hunger by now.
At that mont, a wolf’s howl echoed in the distance.
Soon, a gray wolf appeared in Litte’s path.
Wolves were pack animals—they never acted alone. Litte understood this instinctively.
The mont she heard the wolf’s howl, she knew sothing was wrong. Seeing the gray wolf materialize in front of her only heightened her alertness.
She knew that turning her back would only expose herself to an attack.
So she drew her sword and kept her eyes on the wolf, cautiously retreating.
The wolf, wary of the gleaming blade in Litte’s hand, hesitated but continued to advance.
For every step Litte retreated, the wolf pressed forward.
As Litte’s retreat quickened, the wolf’s wariness diminished, and its pace quickened.
Then, when the distance between them was less than five ters, Litte abruptly stopped retreating and lunged forward, thrusting her sword into the wolf, catching it off guard.
Although the wolf tried to dodge, it was too slow. The blade sliced into its side, causing blood to gush out.
The wolf let out a pained howl.
Realizing the danger, Litte didn’t bother finishing it off. She turned and fled in the opposite direction.
The sky grew darker, and glowing eyes began appearing in the shadows cast by the thick canopy.
The wolf pack had arrived, and their numbers weren’t small.
Litte ran as fast as she could, but it was futile. The wolves quickly caught up, forcing her to turn and fight.
One or two wolves might have been manageable with her sword, but she now faced a pack of over a dozen. Worse still, a larger wolf—likely the pack’s leader—stood at the rear.
Judging by its size and presence, it was at least Tier 2, possibly even Tier 3.
What to do? What to do? What to do? How could she escape this death trap?
The wolves had her completely surrounded. There was nowhere left to run.
Her only options were to fight... or die.
From the shadows, Orson watched the unfolding situation intently.
He was ready to intervene at the first sign of real danger.
No matter what, he had brought Litte here. Even if this failed to push him to break through, he couldn’t let him die.
The wolves lunged at Litte. She dodged a few, parried others with her sword, but she was still outnumbered. A claw tore into her skin, and blood began dripping down her arm.
Gritting her teeth against the pain, Litte tried to keep fighting, but in her mont of distraction, one of the wolves sank its teeth into her sword arm.
Orson couldn’t hold back anymore. He silently dispelled his invisibility, preparing to step in and rescue him.
But then, suddenly, a piercing howl echoed through the forest.
The wolf that had bitten Litte’s arm was violently ripped away. A burst of fire flared, and in an instant, the wolf was reduced to a charred husk.
The rest of the pack froze, their confidence shattered by the sight of their fallen comrade. They stood their ground, baring their teeth at Litte but not daring to attack.
In the center of the encirclent, Litte stood with her head lowered.
“Heh...” After a long silence, she let out a soft, derisive laugh. “It hurts... It hurts so much...”
“You’re so cruel... making feel this kind of pain...” she muttered, lifting her head. Her once-violet eyes had turned crimson, gleaming with a feral intensity.
“Hehahaha! All of you... Die!” she scread, her body moving with unimaginable speed.
From his hidden position, Orson stared in shock at the scene unfolding before him.
Could this be... what they call corruption?
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