Free Web NovelChapter 205: Chapter 198: The First Flare
Day 3 — 00:18 | Team Four
The first ash-hound came down the ridge at a measured pace. It didn’t rush — and that worried the engineer more than a charge would have. The creature moved like something that expected the heat, the thirst, and the open ground to do part of its work for it. Two more followed, spreading across the slope until Team Four could no longer retreat without exposing their backs.
The knight who’d left the group earlier tightened his grip on his field knife. "I’ll take the first."
The team leader looked at him. "You’ll stay in formation."
"I brought them here."
"Yes."
"Then let me correct it."
"You correct it by obeying."
The words hit harder than an insult. His jaw tightened, but he stepped back into line.
The engineer scanned the ravine walls — too smooth to climb quickly, no large stones, timber or shade. Just loose dust, heat, and three predators built for running.
"Water stays behind us," he said. One candidate dragged the containers deeper into the ravine.
The lead ash-hound opened its jaws. Heat shimmered around its teeth.
"Do they breathe fire?" someone asked.
"No," the engineer said. "Worse."
It spat a cloud of burning ash. The team turned away, sleeves raised, as grit struck exposed skin and filled the air — and the hounds charged straight through it.
"Low!" the leader shouted.
The knights dropped into a crouch. The first hound leaped over them, expecting standing targets, and met two upward strikes beneath the chest instead. It crashed into the ravine wall.
The second came from the left. The knight who’d caused the pursuit stepped forward — but this time he didn’t release everything at once. Mana reinforced his legs and shoulders in a single controlled burst. He caught the animal against his forearm and redirected it straight into the engineer’s waiting blade.
The third reached the water containers. A claw tore through a leather strap, and one rolled across the stone and split. Water spread into the dust. For one heartbeat, the entire fight changed.
The engineer moved first, kicking the broken container aside and driving his knife toward the hound’s jaw. It twisted, caught his sleeve, and dragged him down. The knight beside him released mana. The strike threw the hound across the ravine and cracked the stone behind it, the flare of power lighting the air.
The team leader swore. "Again?"
"It was on him."
"And now every ash-hound in the region knows where breakfast is."
The first beast tried to rise. The team finished it together. The other two retreated, one badly wounded, before either could be trapped. No one chased. That lesson, at least, had been learned.
Day 3 — 00:32 | Team Four
The fight left one dead ash-hound, two cuts, a bruised shoulder, and half their remaining water soaked into the ground. The engineer sat against the ravine wall while another candidate checked the claw marks across his jacket.
"Skin’s intact," the medic-trained knight said.
"Excellent. The cloth was nearly promoted."
The team leader examined the torn container. "Can it be repaired?"
"It can hold dust."
"That’s not the shortage we have."
They had water for maybe one more day, rationed hard — less if the heat climbed.
The knight who’d caused it all stood apart, looking from the dead hound to the spilled water. "This is my fault."
The leader didn’t soften it. "Yes."
He nodded once. "What do we do?"
The engineer unfolded the map. "Move before sunrise. There may be shade in the western ravines."
"The marked point is east."
"So is death, if we get there without water."
The leader weighed it — a detour west would cost time, but continuing east could cost the team — and changed the route. No one argued. The knight who’d caused the problem picked up the damaged container and carried it anyway.
The rescue flare stayed sealed.
Day 3 — 04:50 | Team Five
The injured knight woke shivering. The highland cold had set in before dawn, and the swelling around his ankle had crept above the boot. The team leader unwound the binding — the skin beneath had darkened.
"Can you feel your toes?"
"Yes."
"Move them."
He did, slowly, pain crossing his face. The medic-trained candidate examined the joint. "Not broken. Possibly torn badly."
"Can he walk?"
"Not on this slope."
The injured knight pushed himself upright. "I can use mana."
"You can hide the pain," the medic said.
"That’s enough."
"No — it’s enough to wreck the joint completely."
The rescue flare lay beside the medical pouch. Nobody touched it.
The leader checked the map. Their gentler route had narrowed into a chain of broken ledges — carrying one man through it would slow them to a crawl. The injured knight noticed where he was looking.
"Leave part of my load."
"We already did."
"Leave more."
"You’re carrying nothing but water and your knife."
"Then carry me."
The silence that followed wasn’t refusal — it was calculation. Four candidates, one injured man, broken terrain, limited rope, days still ahead.
"We try until midday," the leader said.
"That may worsen it," the medic warned.
"We move carefully."
"And if we can’t?"
He closed his hand around the flare tube. "Then we stop pretending determination changes bone and tendon."
The injured knight said nothing.
Day 3 — 07:10 | Team One
The storm broke after sunrise, and Team One left the rock shelter to find the pass buried under fresh snow. The compass still worked; the route didn’t exist anymore. The mountain veteran roped all six candidates together.
A court-trained knight looked down at the line. "Necessary?"
"If one falls, the others pull."
"And if two fall?"
"The others learn quickly."
They crossed in silence, snow at the knee in places. Mana could have sped things up, but the veteran allowed only short, controlled bursts on the steepest sections. By 09:40 they’d cleared the pass — slower than planned, but everyone still standing.
Day 3 — 09:55 | Team Two
Team Two found the first clear sign the forest was tracking them: fresh prints beside their own, large, six-legged. Not the territorial beast from the river — something else.
The scout-trained knight crouched over the print. "Fresh."
"How close?"
"Close enough to know we stopped here."
One candidate reached for mana sight. The scout caught his wrist. "That’s how it finds the interesting prey."
He lowered his hand. They cut through shallow water to break their scent and doubled back toward the route. The beast never showed itself. That didn’t mean it was gone.
Day 3 — 11:30 | Team Three
Team Three reached the far edge of the marsh with one frayed rope and no patience left for black water. The diversion had worked — the scaled predator hit their cooking container twice while the knights crossed farther north.
"We lost the container," the court-trained candidate said, looking back at the reeds.
"We kept the team," the border veteran answered.
"That was a good container."
"It died in service."
"You sound sincere."
"I respected it."
For the first time since deployment, Team Three laughed — until the marsh let out a deep bubbling sound behind them, and they kept walking instead.
Day 3 — 12:05 | Team Five
The first carrying attempt lasted twenty minutes. Two candidates supported the injured knight while the fourth hauled the extra load, but the route narrowed across a sloped ledge and loose stone shifted under the rear carrier. Everyone stopped. The drop below wouldn’t kill a healthy knight — but it could kill a group tied together and off balance.
"Put me down," he said.
The leader hesitated.
"Put me down."
They lowered him. The swelling had only gotten worse. He stared at the flare. "No."
The leader sat beside him. "We can’t carry you across that route safely."
"Then find another."
"There isn’t one within today’s distance."
"Tomorrow."
"You might lose the foot by tomorrow."
He looked at the others. "You’ll all fail."
"Yes."
"Because of me."
"Because the team can’t stay operational."
"That’s the same thing."
"No," the medic said. "It’s the rule."
He reached for the flare, then stopped. "I should be the one." The leader handed it to him. He held the tube without moving for several seconds — then pulled the cap.
A red line climbed into the sky, rose above the highlands, and burst into a burning sphere visible for kilometers.
No one spoke. The first flare had been fired.
Day 3 — 12:08 | Eastern Training Grounds
The signal hit the communication board first: TEAM FIVE — RESCUE FLARE. A bell rang once in the assessment room.
Malen looked up. Lucien stood by the central map. Cedric had the observer report seconds later. "Ankle injury. Mobility compromised. Team attempted an alternate route, assisted movement, then withdrew."
"Correct decision?" Lucien asked.
"Yes."
Lucas glanced between the report and Team Five’s marker. "Then why disqualify them?"
"Because they didn’t complete the trial," Malen said.
"They still made the right choice."
"Yes."
"That seems unfair."
Malen looked at him. "Selection isn’t a reward for moral worth."
The rescue team — a healer, two scouts, four mounted guards — had already moved from concealment and reached Team Five within twenty minutes. The flare had done exactly what it promised. They’d survive. They’d also be leaving the assessment.
Lucien read the report again. "Record the reason clearly. They don’t fail as soldiers."
"Only this selection," Malen confirmed.
Cedric added a note: the leader had delayed the flare until after a reasonable attempt; the injured candidate hadn’t pushed the team to continue once the route turned unsafe.
"Will they be considered again?" Lucas asked.
"Possibly," Lucien said. "After recovery and review."
The programme needed people who could push through hardship — and people who could tell hardship apart from stupidity. Malen moved Team Five’s marker from active to withdrawn. Six teams remained.
Day 3 — 14:40 | Team Four
Team Four reached the western ravines after hours in the heat. The detour found shade. It didn’t find water.
The engineer studied pale mineral lines on the stone. "There may have been a stream here once."
"Encouraging," one knight said.
"Probably was — a few hundred years ago."
The leader turned to the man who’d caused the water loss. "You know tracking?"
"Some."
"Then find animal trails."
He left with a partner this time, staying in sight. An hour later they found narrow hoof marks leading deeper into the ravine — and where animals traveled regularly, water existed somewhere. The team followed.
Day 3 — 16:15 | Team Six
The broken ward line hadn’t stayed behind them — the same carved stones turned up on the next slope. Team Six stopped.
"These are different stones," the engineer said.
"How do you know?"
"The crack pattern."
"Comforting."
"It means the markers form a larger boundary."
The compass pointed toward the marked point. The sun disagreed. The air itself felt heavier. One candidate pulled the flare from his pack. "Maybe the route’s impossible."
"Maybe it’s just difficult."
"How do we tell the difference?"
"We keep moving until it’s obvious."
They crossed between the stones. For the first time, the ground behind them looked farther away than it should have. No one looked back twice.
Day 3 — 18:50 | Team Seven
Food ran low before sunset — three reduced meals left, maybe four. Pell’s arm still worked, but he tired faster now. Daren offered him part of his ration; Pell pushed it back.
"We split it equally."
"You’re injured."
"You spent more mana."
"That’s not hunger."
"It will be."
Arven looked up from the map. "Neither of you decides alone." He split the food by workload and injury — Pell got slightly more, Daren a little more than the rest. Both looked unhappy about it.
"Good," Arven said. "That probably means it’s fair."
They ate without further argument.
Day 3 — 23:55 | Assessment Record
Team One had cleared the frozen pass. Team Two was still being tracked but avoided contact. Team Three had escaped the marsh. Team Four survived the ash-hound attack, lost water, and changed course. Team Five fired its flare and withdrew. Team Six had entered the inner distortion. Team Seven pressed on with reduced food.
At midnight, Malen looked over the board — one red marker gone.
"The first elimination came from injury," Lucien said.
"Not panic," Malen added.
"No."
"That matters."
Lucas closed the daily cost report. "The rescue team performed well."
"They were supposed to."
"I know. I’m just appreciating the one part of this programme designed to end quickly."
Outside, rain began falling over Elarion. Far away, six teams kept moving toward marked points they’d never seen. The third day ended with one team safe, one disqualified, and the rest finally understanding that the rescue flare wasn’t a threat.
It was a decision.
Day 4 — 00:00 | Knight Candidate Assessment Updated
- Candidates active: 33
- Active teams: 6
- Rescue flares available: 6
- Teams disqualified: 1
- Candidates safely recovered: 5
- Serious injuries: 0 among active teams
- Elapsed time: 66 hours, 30 minutes
- Ninety-Day Review: 54 days remaining
- Arsenal Before the Breach: 2 years, 329 days remaining
