One piece: Without a system, I have to survive!

The weight of the wooden staff felt unfamiliar in my hands.

Not heavy. Not light.

Just… different.

Across from me, the jungle warrior spun his own staff effortlessly, his grip relaxed—too relaxed.

He wasn't taking me seriously.

Big mistake.

The First Strike

The crowd around us grew silent.

The fire crackled in the background, casting long shadows over the clearing.

Then—

He moved.

A blur of motion.

The staff whistled through the air, aimed straight for my ribs.

I barely had time to react.

I twisted, barely avoiding the impact.

The force of his strike rippled through the air.

If that had connected…

I tightened my grip.

He was fast.

Stronger than me.

But strength wasn't everything.

I needed to be smarter.

The Dance of Survival

He attacked again, this time from above.

I raised my staff to block—

CRACK!

The impact sent a jolt through my arms.

I stumbled back, my feet sliding against the dirt.

The crowd murmured, unimpressed.

I wasn't here to impress them.

I was here to survive.

I took a deep breath, steadied my stance.

When the next attack came—

I didn't block.

I dodged.

The staff swung past me—and I moved in.

My turn.

I jabbed forward, striking toward his exposed ribs.

But he twisted, deflecting my blow with ease.

A grin tugged at the corner of his lips.

He was playing with me.

Testing me.

But I could see it now.

His movements.

His rhythm.

And rhythm could be broken.

Breaking the Pattern

He lunged again, this time faster, more aggressive.

I pretended to stumble.

His eyes flashed with confidence.

He took the bait.

His attack came, a downward strike meant to end the fight—

And at the last second, I dropped low.

His staff missed.

I swept his legs.

His balance wavered.

For the first time, his stance broke.

I didn't hesitate.

I struck his side.

THUD!

He staggered back, eyes widening in shock.

The crowd gasped.

For the first time, they saw it too.

I wasn't just some lost outsider.

I was learning.

Adapting.

Surviving.

The End of the Trial

The warrior steadied himself, his expression unreadable.

Then, after a tense moment—

He laughed.

A deep, approving sound.

He planted his staff into the ground and nodded.

"The cub has claws," he said.

The crowd murmured, some amused, others skeptical.

But one thing was clear—

I had earned their attention.

Shira stepped forward, her yellow eyes unreadable.

She studied me for a moment.

Then she simply said:

"You'll do."

I wasn't sure if it was approval or just acknowledgment.

But it didn't matter.

Because for now—

I had passed.