MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

The scent of blood hung thick in the air, a heavy, metallic stench that clung to every breath.

The smoke and fumes swirled upward, curling into dark clouds that choked the sky.

The battlefield was eerily silent, save for the irregular, labored breaths that echoed from every corner.

Some recruits had dropped to one knee, their bodies trembling as they leaned heavily on the weapons still clutched in their hands, their strength fading.

But unlike past trials, where some had succumbed to exhaustion, fainting from the overwhelming pressure, this time, there was no collapse.

Not a single recruit lost consciousness.

Their eyes remained wide open, unfaltering in their gaze.

Despite their exhaustion, despite the blood that soaked their clothes and the wounds that marred their bodies, they were awake.

Alive.

And they had fought, every one of them, until the very end.

Anthony remained suspended above them all, his form untouched by the chaos below.

His gaze was as cold and indifferent as ever, a steady, unwavering stare that seemed to cut through the battlefield like a blade.

Even the most talented of the recruits bore the marks of the fight, wounds that would take time to heal, their bodies battered and exhausted.

Yet, Anthony?

He was untouched.

Not a single scratch marred his skin.

He didn't move to heal them.

The battle was over, and he knew that help would soon arrive.

The military was watching.

Their healers would be here soon enough, just as they always were.

His role had been played.

Now, the rest was out of his hands.

With the battle now at an end, Anthony drifted toward the towering dome, his presence commanding the attention of all who remained on the battlefield.

He hovered just beneath its imposing structure, his eyes calm.

Without a word, he raised his hand.

Blue flames, bright and ethereal, burst from his fingertips, roaring to life with an intensity that could only be described as controlled chaos.

Within seconds, the dome succumbed to the flames, crumbling into nothingness.

As the last vestiges of the barrier vanished, the vast expanse of the world beyond came into sharp view.

The moment the dome fell, Anthony felt the weight of hundreds of gazes turn toward him.

The recruits, battle-worn and weary, stood in stunned silence, eyes wide, filled with questions.

It was as if their thoughts were painted on their faces, clearer than any spoken word.

'Why didn't he destroy the dome sooner?'

'Why let us suffer?'

But Anthony didn't spare them a glance.

He didn't need to answer.

He wasn't here to justify his actions to them.

Destroying the dome would have undermined whatever the military had planned.

So why now? Why not wait for the military to dismantle it themselves?

Simply put…

He was flexing.

As the dome crumbled into nothingness, the healers, who had been waiting just beyond the barrier, sprung into action without hesitation.

Their movements were precise, practiced, swift as they moved among the recruits.

In little more than two hours, they worked tirelessly, mending wounds, restoring vitality, and doing their utmost to heal the battle-worn soldiers to the best of their abilities.

Meanwhile, Anthony remained unmoving, standing off to one side.

His expression, as ever, was inscrutable, watching, observing, but making no move to intervene.

Once the healing was completed, a heavy, purposeful presence descended from above.

First, Colonel Vazeryth appeared, his stern demeanor betraying little emotion.

Then, Lieutenant Darren, followed by Corporals Samuel and Daniel, and the rest of the Corporal training officers.

All eyes turned upward to the newly arrived figures.

The weight of their authority was palpable, their presence commanding the space.

But though the recruits' gazes were fixed on their commanding officers, the soldiers themselves were keenly aware of where the true focus lay.

All eyes were on Anthony, the one who had just destroyed the dome, defying a command that had been so firmly given by Colonel Vazeryth just moments before.

A barrier that the Colonel had claimed Anthony could never breach.

And yet, it had fallen.

Colonel Vazeryth's gaze shifted back to the recruits, his eyes calculating, assessing.

"Congratulations on your survival"

He said, his voice cold, yet resonating with authority.

A pause hung in the air before he continued.

"I had expected a few of you to fall, but it seems… someone ensured that didn't happen"

His words were detached, almost clinical, yet they carried weight.

The recruits, exhausted, couldn't help but glance toward Anthony, who stood leaning casually against the wall, his expression as unreadable as ever.

"Well"

The Colonel continued, his tone unchanged,

"This is the military. We were never going to allow our comrades to die"

"But I'm utterly disappointed"

Colonel Vazeryth's voice cut through the stillness, each word measured and deliberate.

"I'm sure every training officer here advised you, on the day of your last training, never to let your guard down. Yet, it seems some of you chose not to listen"

He allowed a brief pause, letting the weight of his words settle over the recruits.

"What you just witnessed cannot even be classified as even a fraction of the true harshness of reality"

He continued, his tone sharp and biting.

"But how many of you would have perished if Anthony hadn't intervened? At least thirty percent would have been dead within minutes. Then, with the poison taking its toll, another sixty percent would have followed"

The truth in his words was harsh, undeniable.

Each recruit could feel the sting of his assessment.

"Well"

Colonel Vazeryth's voice hardened.

"it doesn't matter now. The 'ifs' are irrelevant, only the facts remain. This was a test. A test to see if you could translate what you've been trained for into an actual battle scenario"

He pressed on, relentless.

"And I have to say, I'm quite disappointed with some of you. Do you honestly think the military would waste its resources on you if you can't improve? Only the talented are granted more opportunities. Only those who prove themselves worthy will earn higher ranks"

His gaze swept coldly over every recruit, his eyes penetrating as he assessed their reactions.

"Today's performance wasn't just a test"

Colonel Vazeryth's voice rang out one final time, his words deliberate and final.

"Based on your actions during the battle, you will all be assigned military positions"

He paused for a moment, allowing the weight of his statement to settle in.

"Your military point cards will be distributed to you today, along with the resources and uniforms corresponding to your current rank within the military"

With that, Colonel Vazeryth's figure dissipated into the air, vanishing as swiftly as he had arrived.

A tense silence lingered for a brief moment before Corporal Daniel, standing with the same stoic expression, broke it.

"Dismissed"

He said flatly, his voice firm but devoid of emotion.

Without another word, he, along with the other soldiers, disappeared, leaving the recruits standing in the wake of the intense evaluation.

The recruits slowly rose to their feet, their movements stiff from the exhaustion of the battle.

The air around them was thick with a mixture of relief and uncertainty, as they realized they had nowhere to go.

Their living quarters had been reduced to rubble, transformed into a battleground by the military's brutal test.

Some of them made their way toward the military barracks, their faces weary, their bodies begging for rest.

Others wandered aimlessly, their steps aimless but their minds still reeling from the chaos they had just endured.

Their primary concern now was simple: recovering their mana.

Today, however, held a small comfort, the promise of resources tied to their new rank.

As Private soldiers, they would be granted access to supplies and equipment, a symbol of their newfound status within the military hierarchy.

The thought of receiving resources filled them with a quiet sense of excitement, a spark of hope amidst the fatigue.

Even if the specifics of the military point cards hadn't been explained, it was obvious to all that they were tokens meant to purchase the tools necessary for survival and advancement in this brutal world.

Time stretched on slowly as the recruits waited, their anticipation growing with each passing hour. Within that time, the military's efficiency became apparent.

The once-destroyed buildings, reduced to rubble by the chaos, were swiftly and seamlessly reconstructed, as though nothing had ever happened.

The soldiers were soon led back to their rooms, which had been restored to their former states, ready to house the new Privates.