Chapter 35
Chapter 35
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 35
Chapter Title: Midwinter Survival (1)
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Crack, crack—
After finishing his check-up by twisting his neck side to side, Yuri bounced to his feet and scanned his surroundings.
Whoosh—
The cabin that had been swarming with people now stood utterly empty, with Yuri alone in the middle of it.
“What the hell—did they all just slip away like the tide receding?”
The moment the ship docked, the cabin had emptied out in a flash.
That had been just a few minutes ago.
Even as everyone else rushed out, Yuri took his time, leisurely picking up his beloved sword Whitey before exiting the cabin.
A short walk later, he spotted a crowd waiting at the galleon's exit in the distance.
Murmur, murmur—
The narrow doorway had caused a bottleneck with everyone piling up at once.
Seeing this, Yuri grinned.
‘Knew it.’
If you’re gonna move fast, get off first.
Otherwise, you end up stuck in the middle, wasting time.
“Might as well chill and be the last one off. Tsk.”
Clicking his tongue, Yuri glanced around.
For all his words, he had no intention of joining that mob and waiting till the end.
‘Wait for what? No need to go through that exit anyway.’
Did he really have to use the gangway to get off the ship?
Paths are made, not found.
With that thought, his eyes caught the hawser rope connecting the galleon to the dock.
It was tied down on the opposite side from the exit, in a secluded corner.
The instant he spotted it, Yuri launched himself forward.
Thud—
He kicked off the railing lightly and slid onto the hawser, gliding down it like ice skates on a frozen pond.
Swoooosh—
His astonishing sense of balance kept him steady even on the thick rope the width of a child’s wrist.
His lithe, nimble movements sent his hair fluttering, revealing his pale face.
His golden eyes sparkled with delight, as a bonus.
But it was only for a moment.
Thud—
As soon as Yuri leaped down and landed, his long hair fell back over his face.
While everyone else waited, Yuri slipped off the galleon at his leisure, pocketed his things, and left the area behind.
And someone was watching him do it.
“Whoa?”
Perched precariously atop the dizzyingly high mast was a blue-haired girl.
Her eyes gleamed as she watched Yuri’s retreating figure.
They sparkled excessively, like she’d uncovered a hidden gem.
The blue-haired girl flashed a small smile before hurling herself off.
Thud—
Falling from that insane height, she landed precisely on the same hawser Yuri had used.
The rope dipped slightly under her weight, and she used the rebound to spring forward.
Her body twisted lightly in two full rotations midair.
Swish—
Her vibrant long hair whipped through the air.
Thud—
Finally, her feet touched down.
“Ta-da!”
Arms spread wide, she beamed after her perfect landing.
Even accounting for slowing her fall with the hawser, her movements were impossibly light.
No, the audacity to leap toward the rope from that height in the first place was astounding.
Rustle—
After flawlessly disembarking the galleon, the blue-haired girl hopped away like a rabbit.
And the path she took...
Was the exact same one Yuri had followed just moments before.
* * *
Yuri, who had blazed his own trail to the dock.
He blended seamlessly into the line of people already heading out.
At the same time, he didn’t forget to survey his surroundings.
‘Where’s everyone going?’
Once they were a bit away from the dock, the destination came into view.
‘The wall?’
The procession of reserve 50th Cohort cadets was heading straight for the towering walls.
Endlessly long walls that stretched beyond sight.
The reserve 50th Cohort cadets passed right through the gate.
The moment they did, their eyes went wide.
“What is this...?”
“Whoa...”
One might expect a city inside ordinary walls.
But these were different.
Nestled within was a vast forest thick with conifers.
A forest so immense its edges couldn’t be seen.
“What is this place...?”
People glanced around curiously as they walked.
Their steps halted only when they reached the wide clearing just beyond the gate.
The clearing had been carved out by clearing trees.
What stood out was the single tree left in the center, with a bell the size of a human head hanging from it.
“Is this Yoram?”
“What’s that bell?”
Arriving in this unfamiliar space, they busily tried to piece together what was happening.
Murmur, murmur—
In the meantime, people continued streaming through the gate from the galleon until everyone had gathered in the clearing.
Then.
Rumble, rumble—
Boom—
With a deafening roar, the iron gates slammed shut.
Boom!
Dust billowed as the gates sealed tight.
“Wh-what?!”
The instant the stunned crowd turned toward the gates.
Step—step—step—
Black Swordsmen in black cloaks appeared atop the walls, lining up in formation.
The sealed gates and the menacing aura radiating from the Black Swordsmen made them look like soldiers facing an enemy army.
Even those buzzing about the closed gates fell silent under the overwhelming presence of the Black Swordsmen.
And then.
Step—
A middle-aged man appeared, his cloak adorned with insignia unlike the others.
A giant at 190 cm.
A broad face covered in jagged scars, paired with a chin beard like a chestnut burr.
His left eye was a mangled ruin, healed over but uncovered—no eyepatch to hide the horror.
Step—step—
He climbed to the rampart with heavy strides.
Thud—
His brown boot, peeking from under the cloak, stomped the stone floor.
“Welcome, greenhorns.”
The scars on the middle-aged man’s face twitched as a sinister smile crept through.
He gazed down at the reserve 50th Cohort cadets with haughty eyes.
“This place is officially called the Starting Forest. But we don’t call it that...”
His voice wasn’t loud, but infused with mana, it carried clearly to all.
“It’s the filter that sifts out the trash who dare think they belong in Yoram.”
The man’s sneer deepened.
He raised his arm toward the reserve 50th Cohort cadets staring up at him.
“Remember five things.”
He extended his fingers, palms facing them so the backs of his hands showed.
First, his thumb folded down.
“First: Survive for one month. Only those who cling to life will shed the ‘reserve’ label and become true 50th Cohort cadets.”
Next, his index finger.
“Second: Murder between reserve cadets is forbidden, but everything else is allowed.”
He skipped the middle finger for his ring finger.
“Third: The dragon plaque you carry is your life. If it breaks, you’re considered dead.”
Then his pinky.
“Fourth: No second chances. Trash filtered out here never sets foot on Yoram’s soil again.”
Finally, the upright middle finger.
But he didn’t fold it—instead, he grinned.
“Fifth: If you’re a pathetic quitter, ring that bell over there. We’ll send you safely back to Mommy and Daddy. Pffft-haha.”
Everyone knew he was flipping off the future quitters with that middle finger as he laughed.
The middle-aged man continued, still grinning.
“Remember: Only those who survive until January 1st will set foot on true Yoram soil!”
Flutter—
With that, he whirled his cloak and vanished.
The Black Swordsmen on the walls disappeared as well.
A curt exit, as if to say no more explanations would be given.
Thoroughly unhelpful.
“......”
A chill silence blanketed the clearing.
Soon, it shattered into chaos.
“...Huh? So this isn’t Yoram?”
“Survival? What does that even mean?!”
“Damn it! I came to Yoram to gain knowledge and raise my family’s honor through fair competition! Not for this ridiculous crap!”
Most reserve cadets had imagined Yoram as an academy.
The world’s top education, fitting facilities.
Sparks flying between cohort-mates in healthy rivalry.
That was the Yoram life they’d envisioned.
But this absurd reality?
The gap between dream and truth spread murmurs like wildfire among the reserve cadets.
Amid the swirling chaos, though, one pair of golden eyes gleamed calmly.
‘Oh ho? That’s how it is?’
Yuri slipped a faint smile and used the confusion to edge quietly toward the clearing’s outskirts.
Slink—
He ghosted out of the clearing and into the vast forest.
This happened a mere ten seconds after the Black Swordsmen vanished.
No one had moved before him.
Some time passed.
A few people’s eyes hardened with resolve.
The scarred man’s words replayed rapidly in their minds.
‘This definitely isn’t Yoram.’
‘Survive a month... It’s a test to sort this cohort.’
‘The theme is... survival.’
‘But they gave us nothing for it. That means...?’
Finally, a few reached the same conclusion.
‘Survival gear must be hidden in the forest!’
Food, fire-starting tools, and more for survival.
Not nearly enough for all 503 reserve cadets, of course.
The first to act would claim them.
‘If luck’s on my side... I could monopolize most and gain the edge!’
A golden chance to knock out rivals.
To do that, they needed to enter the forest faster than anyone.
Those who reached that judgment slipped away quietly amid the chaos.
Among them: the blue-haired girl, Gunter, and scions from various prestigious houses.
As time ticked by, more left the clearing.
Naturally, more noticed the oddity.
‘Huh?’
‘Aren’t there fewer people?’
Those still oblivious cast puzzled glances around.
Then, someone sharp enough but lacking self-control blundered.
He voiced his realization aloud.
“Ah! The forest! Survival stuff must be in the—!”
Not totally clueless, he clamped his mouth shut in panic.
He rolled his eyes, gauging reactions.
But awareness wasn’t just for observing.
Mutter, mutter—
His words weren’t that quiet; everyone nearby heard.
Now they all knew.
First movers win big.
They were just holding back, aware that stampeding out en masse wasn’t smart.
But that standoff didn’t last.
Swoosh—
After an eternity of eyeing each other, someone took a step back.
That was the signal.
Dash!
One bolted first.
“Ah!”
“Damn it!”
Over a dozen others, startled, raced after to not fall behind.
This rippled through the entire clearing.
“Why are those guys suddenly running to the forest...? Ah! No way?!”
“Shit! That’s it?!”
Some grasped the situation from the runners and dashed in.
“What? What’s going on?!”
“What happened?”
“Why are they running?”
Others got swept up in group hysteria—pure crowd psychology.
In other words, they ran mindlessly because everyone else was.
Rumble—
The crowded clearing emptied in seconds.
The sudden exodus stirred the forest, startling birds into the sky.
Flutter—
Thus, thirty-some minutes after the black galleon arrived at the Starting Isle.
All 503 reserve 50th Cohort cadets were thrown into the Starting Forest—aka the “Trash Filter.”
* * *
Most reserve cadets were convinced survival gear was hidden in the forest and charged in.
But Yuri, who had entered first of all.
His thinking differed.
‘Nothing’s prepared in this forest... at all.’
Conviction shone clearly in Yuri’s eyes.