Haruki drifted into consciousness to the sound of howling wind and the aggressive flapping of the makeshift tent.

His body curled.

Every muscle screamed in agony as the memory of their brutal battle against the snow apes flooded back.

He forced himself up, and seeing his wounds had been carefully bandaged with torn fabrics, he stumbled outside.

The sight that greeted him stole the air from his lungs.

His fellow apprentices seemed hollow; their spirits had been broken.

Yellow and blue headbands lay scattered across the snow. Others had been stripped apart and tied around the tent poles.

Haruki realized that in the face of survival, factions mean nothing, leaving only the will to live.

"How long was I out?"

Haruki rasped, his mind struggling to piece together the nightmare.

"Three days,"

Ishito said, walking up beside him, his own face gaunt and pale.

"I was unconscious for two."

"Three days!?"

Haruki’s hand flew to his side, feeling the jagged edge of his fresh wounds.

"Why are we still here? Where’s my father?"

Ishito gazed at him with sad, tired eyes.

"I don’t think your father ever intended to come. This is the whole trial. The race, the survival, and the battle, happening all at once."

Haruki felt his world shift.

He had been so obsessed with winning that he hadn't realized the Trials had trapped them in a game he was failing to lead.

He studied the makeshift camp.

Some apprentices were on the brink of death. Others limped through the camp, tending to the dying.

"It’s a miracle we made it this far."

Ishito whispered.

"If not for—"

He caught himself and stopped.

"If not for what?"

Haruki pressed, his voice sharp with pain.

"If not for Eiji, we would have all been slaughtered by the snow apes."

The name burned Haruki like a hot iron. His pride was shattered.

He was the son of the general, while the boy he had dismissed as a mediocre shadow was the one who had kept them breathing.

His fury erupted.

He roared for Eiji, his voice shaking the tent walls.

Seiya tried to intervene, and Nobutaka began to explain that Eiji had been out scouting.

But before Nobutaka could finish, Eiji returned from the forest, a bundle of firewood strapped across his back and freshly hunted game hanging from his shoulder.

"Haruki! You’re awake!"

Eiji’s face lit up with genuine relief, but the smile vanished the second he saw Haruki’s expression.

Haruki staggered toward Eiji with rage.

"How dare you keep us here to die!"

He limped, his wounded body trembling in pain.

"You could've called for Father! You could've told him we were dying! Instead, you kept us trapped here!"

“Are you that desperate to be named the Yaibashō? Huh? Is that it?"

Eiji flinched.

"I... I didn’t do this for that, Haruki. I just wanted us to survive."

Eiji’s voice was soft, threatening to break.

"You just had to be the hero, didn't you?" Haruki poured out years of bottled frustration.

"You always want the attention! As if having Father’s love wasn't enough, you’re trying to steal everyone’s approval!”

Haruki shook his head.

“Ever since Father took you and your brother in, you've taken half of my life away.”

“And now this?”

“This is unacceptable!”

The other samurai watched in stunned silence, finally seeing the ugly truth of the rivalry Haruki had nurtured in secret.

Eiji reached out, trying to bridge the gap.

"Haruki, that’s not—"

Haruki swatted his hand away as if it were an insect.

"Shut it! I don't want to hear your excuses!"

He spun around, catching the gaze of the others.

"Anyone with half a brain, come with me! We’re leaving this nightmare now!"

He grabbed his weapon, ready to descend.

"Haruki, stop!"

Ishito shouted, stepping into his path.

"You can't be serious! Don’t you see? We could have left weeks ago, but we didn't!"

Haruki stopped.

His chest rose and fell.

"What do you mean?"

Ishito met his eyes.

They were hollow.

"We're trapped, Haruki."

He looked toward the endless cliffs.

"The mountain won't let us go."