UNMEI: Pantheon's Game-Chapter 123: Training

The days blurred together in pain and repetition, but every scrape, every breathless hour burned itself deep into Dune's bones.

History classes still filled the mornings, long lectures about ancient wars, forgotten beasts, and the mistakes that had gotten too many people killed. Professor Lenora made sure every word felt heavy.

Dune listened, but part of him couldn't help thinking: No amount of old stories is going to save me if I can't even stand by the end of this week.

Out past the Academy's towering walls, they were thrown into the wild training grounds.

Dirt, sweat, and pain replaced desks and books. They were taught how to make fire from nothing, no Neba, no tools, only raw instinct and stubborn will.

Swimming came next. Before dawn, they were dumped into the icy river that cut through the Academy grounds. Laps until limbs burned. Dune could not swim, But after some time he had no choice but to learn it.

Climbing was worse. They scaled walls, cliffs, jagged stone towers designed to tear them apart. Dune's hands bled again. His arms shook. More than once, he slipped, but he caught himself.

Running was endless. Morning runs before the sun rose, evening sprints until lungs felt like they'd collapse. Dune's legs became heavy, wooden things that barely obeyed him anymore. But he ran anyway. So did everyone else.

The survival methods were the final blow. They were taught to stop bleeding with torn cloth, set broken bones with sticks and their own grit, dull pain with herbs that tasted like death.

Dune sighed as he tied another crude bandage around his scraped hand.

Inside the Trial, there might not be any healers. No second chances.

By the fourth day, Dune's body felt wrecked. Bruises darkened his ribs, cuts stung on his hands, and his muscles screamed every time he moved.

But he wasn't alone. He could see it on the others, even the top students with their fancy names and bloodlines. They limped and winced just like him.

No one complained. No one dared. Because they all knew, that trial would be much worse than this.

And deep down, as Dune flexed his raw, bandaged fingers, he knew it too, every miserable lesson, every wound, could be the only thing standing between him and death when the Trial came.

Fire. Swim. Climb. Heal. Run. Survive.

The dining hall was loud with the scrape of plates and clatter of spoons, but at their table, things were quieter. Dune, Atlas, and Mindya sat together, hunched over their meals, their bodies still aching from the day's torture.

Mindya tore into her meat with sharp bites, chewing like she hadn't eaten in days, which, in fairness, was how they all felt. Then, mid bite, she frowned and looked up.

"Hey," she mumbled, mouth half-full, "how do you think they do it in other continents? I mean, do they train like us? Or is it different over there?"

Dune paused, his spoon halfway to his mouth. The question settled in his mind heavier than the food.

Other continents...

He hadn't thought much about it before, but now it started to click in his head. The Trials... they weren't just for them.

Wouldn't people from other continents take them too? he wondered, gaze dropping to his bowl.

There was a huge chance. A frighteningly huge one.

And then there were the green Neba users, the ones who didn't belong to any academy, who trained on their own, wild and unregulated.

What about them? he thought, heartbeat picking up. Would they be dragged into the Trials too? Forcefully teleported, just like us?

The idea unsettled him.

"We won't just be fighting to survive... we might have to deal with people from places we've never seen. Maybe even people who don't want us to survive there at all."

His grip on the spoon tightened.

Before he could voice any of this, a sharp sound echoed behind him. their teacher, Professor Lenora stepped forward, her orange eyes gleaming even in the low light.

"That's an excellent question Dune," she said, voice clear and smooth as silk, though there was an edge to it.

She glanced toward their table, her hearing sharper than any normal person's. "Yes, we suspect the same. You will likely not be alone inside your Trials."

She paced slowly as she spoke, making sure every other student also heard her.

"Students from other continents, from Sarodenly, Seraphein, Sephiros, Serpiente

Zeon and beyond, will be taking their Trials as well. The Trials are not bound by walls or borders. So be prepared. You may meet them. Or face them."

The room was silent now.

"And yes," Lenora continued, her gaze narrowing, "those unaffiliated Neba users, the ones who do not join academies, who train in secret, or live by their own rules, they too are subject to the will of the Trials. When their Neba mastery hits 10%, they will be forcefully drawn in, same as you. Whether they're ready or not."

A few students shifted in their seats. Dune felt the weight of it settle deeper in his chest.

So it's true... it doesn't matter if they're from noble schools or back-alley gangs. Once they hit that mark, they're pulled in. No escape.

Professor Lenora's voice softened, but the steel was still there.

"This is why we train you hard. This is why we prepare you for everything. Because inside the Trials, it's not just survival against monsters or traps, it's survival against others who want the same thing you do, to live."

Her eyes swept the room one last time.

"So eat well. Train harder. And trust no one... except the ones sitting beside you."

With that, she turned and walked off, leaving the hall in a thick, uneasy silence.

Dune arrived at his academy room with his body feeling heavier than ever. Every step was slow, his muscles sore from the endless training.

He dropped his bag near the door without thinking and headed straight for the shower. The cold water hit his skin like knives at first, but after a while, it numbed the pain. He stayed there longer than he should have, letting the water wash away the dirt and sweat.

When he finally stepped out, he grabbed a fresh set of clean academy clothes and slipped them on. The soft fabric felt like a small relief against his bruised skin.

Without even drying his hair properly, he fell onto his bed with a long breath, staring at the ceiling. But he couldn't rest yet. He reached over to the small wooden box on the table, inside was the green Neba core they'd given him.

He held it in his hand, let his Neba flow, and absorbed it quickly. The warmth rushed through his body for a brief moment, then faded. He tossed the empty core aside and laid back down.

[ Name: Dune ]

[ Age: 17 ]

[ Title: ??? ]

[ Neba core: Green - 8% ]

[ Zeten core: Green - 1.2% ]

[ Abilities: Nebastep ]

His eyes stayed fixed on the numbers.

8%...

Just 2% more, and he'd be pulled into his first Neba Trial. The thought made his chest tighten. He was getting close. Too close.

But then another worry crept in, Ned.

His brother. What would Ned do when his time came? Would he have to take the Trial alone?

Dune's hands curled into fists against the blanket. The idea scared him even more than his own Trial. He didn't want Ned to go through something like that by himself.

But... he couldn't change it, No one but him could.

His throat felt dry. He shut his eyes, trying to force the thoughts away. But even as he drifted toward sleep, the fear stayed with him.