《Denwen》 Denwen ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to¡­ I didn¡¯t mean to¡­¡± A young child around the age of seven sobbed, staring down at his trembling hands. They dripped crimson red, warm and wet, staining the pristine white ceremonial robes he wore. The golden inscriptions woven into the fabric were now tainted, soaked in a spreading pool of blood. His breath came in short gasps, his small chest rising and falling in a panic. Before him lay a headless corpse, lifeless, motionless. The metallic scent of blood choked the air. Frantic, he swung his hands wildly, trying to rid himself of the gore, smearing it further across his robes. His tiny fingers trembled as the reality of what had just happened settled deep into his bones. ¡°Son¡­¡± A sharp gasp filled the room. Denwen turned, his wide, terrified eyes locking onto the woman standing frozen in the doorway. Her face was a portrait of horror, hands clasped over her mouth. ¡°Mother¡­ No, no! I didn¡¯t mean to!¡± His voice cracked as he took a shaky step toward her. She recoiled. The air shifted. A low, resonant clanking filled the room. Chains, dark as an abyss, slithered from the shadows like hungry serpents, coiling around her wrists and ankles. CLANK. CLANK. ¡°No! No, no, no! You killed him! And now you want to take me too!¡± Her screams echoed as the chains yanked her backward, dragging her into the darkness beyond the door. ¡°MOTHER!¡± Denwen lunged forward, fingertips grazing the hem of her robe just as she was swallowed whole by the void. A new presence filled the room. The temperature dropped. The air thickened, suffocating. Shadows lengthened unnaturally, creeping toward him like living things. A man stepped forward, his form shrouded in abyssal darkness, his face an empty void save for two glowing white singularities where eyes should be. A crescent-shaped grin stretched across his shadowy face. ¡°Oh my, oh my¡­ Look what you¡¯ve done,¡± the figure crooned, bending to pick up the severed head. Blood still dripped steadily from the stump, pooling at his feet. Denwen''s legs locked. The room felt as if it had lost all color and life. He couldn''t breathe. Couldn''t move. DRIP. DRIP. DRIP. The faceless man tilted the head, observing it with eerie delight. A crown of congealed blood formed atop its head, intricate royal inscriptions shimmering within the coagulation. Then¡ªthe eyes snapped open. Denwen¡¯s stomach lurched. The head¡¯s lips twisted into a grin, mirroring the faceless man''s. ¡°Yes, this feels right¡­ doesn¡¯t it?¡± the figure asked, his voice oozing with sick amusement. The severed head¡¯s grin widened, its voice merging with the abyssal man¡¯s. ¡°Yes, it does.¡± An eerie laughter erupted from them, growing louder and more twisted, twisting the very air around him into a nightmarish spiral. ¡°And it¡¯s all thanks to you,¡± they whispered in unison. ¡°No, no, NO!¡± Denwen screamed, clutching his head, shaking violently. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.Darkness closed in. And then... ¡ª ¡°Den¡­¡± A soft voice drifted through the haze. ¡°Denwen¡­¡± His body jerked awake, a strangled gasp ripping from his throat. Sweat drenched his skin, sticking his hair to his forehead. His blue eyes, wild with terror, darted around the dimly lit room. ¡°It¡¯s alright,¡± a gentle voice soothed. Denwen turned his head slightly, his breathing still ragged. Rachael, a woman in her thirties with warm brown eyes and a kind face, pulled him into her embrace, gently stroking his hair. ¡°You saw them again¡­ the figure and the head,¡± she murmured, her voice a quiet comfort. Denwen gave a weak nod, still struggling to steady his breath. ¡°Mom, is big brother going to be okay?¡± A small voice, filled with concern, came from the doorway. Nicole, only twelve, peeked inside with worried eyes. Rachael turned with a reassuring smile. ¡°Yes, sweetheart. He¡¯ll be fine.¡± Nicole frowned. ¡°If big brother isn¡¯t fine, then I¡¯m not fine either.¡± She folded her arms stubbornly. ¡°Oh, stop that,¡± Rachael chuckled, pulling her into the embrace as well. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. As long as I¡¯m here, you two will always be safe.¡± ¡°By the way,¡± she added, ¡°Roy is almost here.¡± Denwen shot up like a rocket. ¡°Ouch!¡± Nicole yelped. ¡°Mummy, he pinched me!¡± ¡°You can¡¯t prove anything,¡± Denwen smirked, rushing toward the bathroom. Nicole scowled. ¡°Mum! You¡¯re just going to let him get away with that?!¡± Rachael smirked mischievously. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. Justice always finds its way.¡± Nicole sighed in relief. ¡ª Varek trudged into the house, his armor stained with dried green blood. He pulled off his chest plate with a grunt, placing his axe on a hanger by the wall. ¡°Daddy!¡± Nicole ran into his arms. Varek lifted her effortlessly, planting a kiss on her forehead. ¡°Miss me, squirt?¡± Rachael took his armor, examining the deep scratches. ¡°Looks like it was a rough one.¡± ¡°Rank 1 and 2 dungeons are being monopolized left and right, but you know me. I always find a way,¡± Varek said, stretching his aching limbs. Denwen grinned. ¡°Still taking down orcs like it¡¯s nothing, old man?¡± ¡°You bet. Though I could do without the smell.¡± Varek raised an arm and sniffed. He gagged. ¡°By the gods, that¡¯s awful.¡± Denwen took a step back. ¡°Yeah, you definitely need a shower.¡± ¡°And a week of sleep,¡± Varek groaned. Rachael smirked. ¡°After you take a mana pill. You¡¯re not missing the ceremony today.¡± Varek paled. ¡°Come on, I already took some this week¡ª¡± ¡°Take more,¡± she said sweetly. ¡°End of discussion.¡± Varek turned to Denwen helplessly. ¡°She¡¯s going to kill me.¡± Denwen nodded apologetically. ¡°I know, I know.¡± DING DONG. The doorbell rang. ¡°I got it,¡± Denwen called, heading to the door. He swung it open, only to be greeted by a blonde teenager, grinning with a peace sign. ¡°Yo.¡± GBAM. Denwen slammed the door shut. Velos ¡°See you guys later!¡± Roy shouted at the top of his voice, waving as the rest of the boys sped off on their hover bikes. His voice barely carried over the roar of engines and the sounds of the bustling city. Denwen briefly raised a hand in acknowledgment but didn¡¯t bother turning around, keeping his focus on the road ahead. Both of them maneuvered skillfully through the traffic, weaving between various vehicles, from massive cargo transports to smaller, personalized hovercrafts gliding just above the molten-etched roads of Pyro. ¡°You don¡¯t have to shout like that all the time, you know,¡± Denwen muttered into the mic attached to his helmet, his voice calm and steady. Roy chuckled as he accelerated, easily overtaking a public hover-bus. ¡°And you really need to stop slamming doors in my face. Who knows? You might end up doing it to your crush someday.¡± Denwen sighed. ¡°Ugh, you¡¯re still going on about that? I have bigger things to worry about than some imaginary crush you¡¯ve made up in your head.¡± Roy laughed. ¡°Come on, man. One day, you¡¯re gonna have to loosen up. You can¡¯t survive in Velos without a little fun. Unless, of course, you plan on becoming a ball-less eunuch, living with the paladins in Solvaris.¡± Denwen rolled his eyes as he took a sharp right turn onto the main highway. Before them stretched a vast, structured chaos of Pyro, the Infernal Dominion. Towering structures of blackened steel and obsidian lined the horizon, their spires breathing plumes of steam and fire into the red-hued sky. Enormous bridges arched over flowing rivers of molten rock, carrying the city¡¯s citizens across districts, while the ever-present clanking of machinery and the roar of furnaces echoed in the background. ¡ª Velos is a very, very large planet made up of several continents, to put it into perspective, it is so large you could fit the whole planets in the milky way and there would still be space. The planet is divided into nine kingdoms with each spanning as large as the diameter of planets containing multiple continents. The Fire Kingdom is an empire of industry, war, and craftsmanship also known as Pyro is fourth largest Kingdom amongst the nine. ¡ª The Pyronese, its people, were famed for their superior skill in fire-based abilities, unrivaled weapon-smithing, and mastery over heat and metal. Despite being known for their explosive tempers, they were also fiercely loyal and valued honor above all else. The kingdom¡¯s heart pulsed with the labor of the dwarves, the true architects behind Pyro¡¯s legendary forges. However, it was the humans who ruled, handling politics, trade, and governance, ensuring that Pyro remained a dominant force on Velos. Denwen and Roy rode past one of the largest forges, the massive Dwarven Conglomerate¡¯s primary facility, where a fleet of mechanical arms and elemental smiths labored away, shaping weapons, armor, and machinery infused with essence. Sparks flew from enormous anvils as dwarven smiths hammered at metal, their runes glowing in the dim light. Even from outside, the heat was intense, a reminder of the unrelenting flames that kept Pyro alive.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. ¡°Look at them,¡± Roy said, nodding towards the forge as they zoomed past. ¡°Day and night, those dwarves never stop. If they put that much effort into politics, we¡¯d probably have a dwarf king by now.¡± Denwen smirked. ¡°Yeah, if only they cared about ruling as much as they do about making weapons. But I doubt that¡¯ll ever happen. They¡¯re content just building, as long as they¡¯re left alone to do it.¡± They sped past another district, the streets lined with towering obsidian buildings with crimson banners, the insignia of Pyro¡¯s ruling house embroidered in golden flames. Battle arenas were scattered throughout the city, where warriors trained, sparred, and proved their worth in fire-infused combat. The Fire Kingdom didn¡¯t just forge weapons¡ªthey forged warriors. As they approached their destination, a large dome-like structure loomed in the distance, its surface shimmering with protective enchantments. This was Pyro¡¯s premier academy, a place where students trained in combat, engineering, and mana refinement, honing their abilities to contribute to the kingdom¡¯s legacy. ¡°Ah, I guess there¡¯s going to be a little hiccup,¡± Roy said, nodding towards a group of boys standing near the entrance, their uniforms identical to his and Denwen¡¯s but worn with a smug air of entitlement. Denwen sighed. ¡°Angus. It¡¯s too early for this.¡± Angus, a broad-shouldered brute with flames flickering along his knuckles, was one of the academy¡¯s most notorious troublemakers. He leaned casually against his hover bike, flanked by his usual gang of lesser goons, each wearing a smirk that promised trouble. ¡°Well, if it isn¡¯t the little errand boys,¡± Angus sneered as they dismounted, their hover bikes shrinking into compact wrist devices. ¡°Still playing it safe, Denwen? Riding in the shadows of others instead of standing at the top?¡± Denwen didn¡¯t react, simply adjusting his helmet as it folded into a sleek earpiece around his ear. He had no patience for Angus¡¯ usual provocations. Roy, however, grinned. ¡°Still trying to act like you run this place? I¡¯d say that¡¯s cute, but honestly, it¡¯s getting a little pathetic.¡± Angus scowled, the flames on his knuckles intensifying. ¡°What was that?¡± Denwen stepped forward before things escalated. ¡°Not today, Angus. We have better things to do than entertain you.¡± He walked past him, brushing shoulders slightly. Angus tensed but said nothing, watching them enter the academy with narrowed eyes. Inside, the academy was a marvel of Pyronese architecture, blending ancient fire-infused stonework with modern mana technology. Halls lit by floating ember-lights stretched endlessly, leading to different training grounds, research facilities, and lecture chambers. Usually their first class of the day was Essence Theory, a subject that delved into the mechanics of mana and essence manipulation. Pyro¡¯s warriors weren¡¯t just brutes with fire¡ªthey were scholars of destruction, understanding every nuance of their abilities to refine them into deadly art. But today was different. Roy nudged Denwen as they took their seats. ¡°So, tell me, when are you going to start actually enjoying life?¡± Denwen rolled his eyes. ¡°Roy, this is life. And if you spent half as much energy learning and training as you do teasing me, you might actually be worth something in a real fight.¡± Roy gasped mockingly. ¡°You wound me, dear friend.¡± Before Denwen could retort, their teacher entered¡ªa towering figure with ember-like eyes and a beard. ¡°Settle down,¡± the teacher¡¯s voice rumbled like an active volcano. ¡°Today, I am sure you are all excited about your awakenings.¡± The students began to chatter happily as they all knew that today is the day their lives would change. The Weight of Talent The grand lecture hall buzzed with excitement, a restless energy filling the air as 500 students sat shoulder to shoulder, anticipation evident on their faces. Today was the Awakening Ceremony, the defining moment that would determine their futures. Some sat with nervous expressions, others with confidence bordering on arrogance. At the front of the hall, a tall, broad-shouldered man with graying hair and sharp amber eyes surveyed the crowd. His presence alone was enough to command silence. With a casual flick of his wrist, the holographic screens behind him flickered to life, casting a glow across the gathered students. The murmuring died down as the man cleared his throat. ¡°I know you are all excited. So am I,¡± he began, his deep voice carrying across the vast room. ¡°Because today, the 500 of you will undergo the Awakening process. But let me be clear¡ª¡± he paused, letting the tension build, ¡°¡ªnot all of you will succeed.¡± A hush fell over the hall. The weight of his words sank in, causing some students to exchange anxious glances. Mr. Iska, the head instructor, let the moment linger before continuing. ¡°Who can remind us why we conduct this process at the age of sixteen?¡± He glanced around the hall, waiting for a response. A girl with silver hair, sitting near the front, raised her hand with practiced elegance. Melissa. The moment she was acknowledged, she stood gracefully, her tone confident and clear. ¡°The physiology of living beings is designed to absorb mana and essence from birth, but the amount each person can retain varies,¡± she recited without hesitation. ¡°As the body matures, it absorbs just enough to strengthen muscles and bones. However, by the age of sixteen, the body reaches its saturation point and begins rejecting the excess. If left unchecked, the essence will dissipate, making future cultivation impossible.¡± She paused momentarily, ensuring the hall was still attentive before continuing. ¡°Through the Awakening process, individuals form a mana core, which allows them to retain and refine the residual essence in their bodies, thus marking the beginning of their cultivation journey.¡± A murmur of admiration spread across the hall. Melissa had spoken flawlessly, with the ease of someone who had memorized every scholarly text on the subject. Mr. Iska nodded approvingly. ¡°Well said.¡± While many students remained focused, two young men sitting near the middle of the hall were engaged in a quiet exchange. ¡°Bro, how do you even get all that gibberish in your head?¡± Roy muttered, flipping a pen between his fingers as he leaned toward his best friend, Denwen. Denwen rolled his eyes, keeping his voice low. ¡°You know, it¡¯s important to be well-rounded. Who knows? Maybe this ¡®gibberish¡¯ will save your life someday.¡± Roy scoffed. ¡°Come on. You know that unless you plan on ending up in Mechavaris, we never really use theory in the real world. I just can¡¯t wait to awaken so I can finally wield my sword properly.¡± Denwen smirked, resting his chin on his palm. ¡°Nothing wrong with Mechavaris. I might even take a trip there one day.¡± Before Roy could respond, Mr. Iska clapped his hands, regaining the students¡¯ attention. His sharp gaze landed on Denwen.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. ¡°Denwen, can you elaborate on the importance of talent rankings?¡± Laughter rippled through the class as Denwen sat up, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. A voice from the back rang out. ¡°Yeah, bozo, tell us,¡± Angus sneered, leaning back in his chair with an arrogant smirk. Roy shot him a glare before whispering to Denwen, ¡°Show them why you¡¯re top of the class in theory.¡± Denwen took a steadying breath before standing, his voice clear and measured. ¡°Talents are ranked from A to E, serving as a fundamental indicator of a person¡¯s potential. The most crucial factor of talent ranking is core efficiency¡ªhow much mana or essence a person can store and recover.¡± The hall quieted, every student now focused. ¡°A person with an E-grade talent can only retain 20% of their mana core¡¯s capacity at any given time, and their recovery rate is incredibly slow. Even with abundant resources, their core will never exceed 20% efficiency, and forcing it beyond its limits could result in a breakdown¡ªsometimes fatal.¡± Some students swallowed nervously. Denwen continued. ¡°A D-grade talent allows for 40%, C-grade 60%, B-grade 80%, and A-grade, the rarest of all, a full 100% efficiency. But the difference doesn¡¯t end there.¡± He gestured toward the holographic screen as it displayed a new diagram. ¡°Recovery speed also varies. A-grade talents, found in only one out of a thousand people, can fully replenish their essence in just 30 minutes. This gives them an overwhelming advantage in cultivation, battle, and artifact usage.¡± Silence stretched across the hall before¡ª CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! Roy¡¯s exaggerated applause echoed through the room. ¡°That¡¯s my bro right there! Let me hear you laugh now.¡± Melissa huffed, crossing her arms, while Angus scowled, rolling his eyes. A chuckle sounded from the side. A tall girl with sharp violet eyes and long black hair tied in a loose ponytail leaned back in her seat. Kara. She smirked, her voice dripping with amusement. ¡°Not bad, bookworm. Maybe you do have a place outside a library.¡± Denwen rolled his eyes but couldn¡¯t suppress a small grin. Kara was always like this¡ªsharp-tongued, confident, and competitive. Unlike Melissa, whose intelligence was cold and distant, Kara had a mischievous, fiery energy that made her presence impossible to ignore. Mr. Iska nodded in approval. ¡°Well done, Denwen. You didn¡¯t disappoint.¡± Denwen took his seat, exhaling in relief. ¡°Now, as he explained, your Awakening results today will shape your future,¡± Mr. Iska continued. ¡°A higher talent ranking means faster progression, stronger cultivation, and greater opportunities.¡± A hand shot up from the back. Angus smirked as he raised a small vial containing a glowing pill. ¡°Sir, can¡¯t we influence our talent? My parents got me a Talent Enhancer Pill.¡± Murmurs spread across the room. Mr. Iska¡¯s gaze sharpened. ¡°Ah, I see. You mean your parents could afford the enhancer pill.¡± His tone dripped with sarcasm. ¡°Let me clarify something for all of you¡ªwhile some pills claim to improve talent, their effects are minimal. The Awakening process purges impurities from the body, and most artificial enhancements are treated as just that¡ªimpurities.¡± A few students chuckled as Angus¡¯s smirk faltered. With a gesture, drones entered the hall, each carrying sleek black briefcases. ¡°Inside these cases, you will find what you need for the Awakening,¡± Mr. Iska concluded. ¡°File out to the ceremony hall. Your future awaits.¡± The students rose, their excitement now tempered by the weight of reality. Gathering of Fates The Crimson Academy pulsed with anticipation, its grand auditorium packed to the brim with eager spectators. This wasn¡¯t just another school event¡ªthis was the Awakening Ceremony, a rite of passage that marked the transition from childhood to the path of greatness or mediocrity. Parents, noble dignitaries, and commoners alike gathered, their faces a mix of excitement, nervousness, and barely concealed dread. Today, five hundred students would stand at the precipice of their fate, and only a handful would emerge with the promise of true power. The sheer magnitude of the crowd made navigation a challenge. Varek, a broad-shouldered man in a dark crimson robe, hurried through the throngs, his wife Racheal trailing behind, struggling to keep up. ¡°Hey! Slow down! Are you trying to let me get lost in this crowd?¡± she huffed, balancing a pair of cakes in her hands. ¡°Come on, sweetheart, we¡¯ll miss the prime seats if we¡¯re late!¡± Varek called back, weaving between onlookers. Behind them, a woman sighed in exasperation. ¡°Five hundred students in this batch¡ªare we really going to stay till the end?¡± Another voice, warm with motherly concern, answered. ¡°Don¡¯t forget the cakes. Both of them. Just in case. We don¡¯t want our boy to feel downcast.¡± One cake bore ¡°Congratulations, My Future Mage!¡± in golden icing. The other? ¡°It¡¯s Okay, We Still Love You¡±¡ªa painful reminder of the ceremony¡¯s harsh reality. ¡ª In the stands, Nicole, the ever energetic young girl, waved a placard high above her head, grinning ear to ear. The text in bold, glimmering letters read: ¡°A-GRADE OR NOTHING!¡± beneath a hastily printed picture of Denwen. ¡°Mom! Look at all these people!¡± she marveled. ¡°That¡¯s why I said we should leave on time,¡± Racheal said pointedly, throwing a glance at her yawning husband. ¡°Right, right¡­¡± Varek muttered, sipping loudly on his drink. Nearby, Vahn, a sharp-eyed man in a modest outfit more suited for a vacation, navigated through the crowd until a booming voice caught his attention. ¡°Oi! Vahn! Over here!¡± Varek, now seated comfortably, waved excitedly. A seat had been miraculously saved beside him. ¡°What are you guys doing here?¡± Vahn asked, eyebrow raised. ¡°My boy¡¯s getting his talent today, and I just know he¡¯s going to surpass me,¡± Varek said, his chest puffed with fatherly pride. Vahn chuckled. ¡°Well, isn¡¯t that every parent¡¯s dream? I¡¯m here for my daughter. She may not be a prodigy, but I believe in her.¡± ¡ª Outside, luxury vehicles arrived at an exclusive section of the parking lot, their polished exteriors gleaming under the sun. Among them, a mythical chariot, its flaming horses snorting impatiently, stood as a stark reminder that today wasn¡¯t just for commoners. A sleek, jet-black hovercar pulled in next, its metallic sheen adorned with the Ashthorne family crest. As the doors lifted open, a towering man with sharp blue eyes and a noble air stepped out, his silver suit perfectly tailored, his face strikingly familiar to the trouble maker known as Angus. His wife, draped in silver fox fur, adjusted her glasses with an expression of mild irritation.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. ¡°The Ashthornes are as insufferably flashy as ever,¡± she murmured. Her husband grunted. ¡°They aren¡¯t our concern today. Let¡¯s just get this over with.¡± As they stepped onto a floating platform that would take them to their VIP section, another hovercar rolled into view. This one bore the emblem of a fiery lotus with five petals. ¡°Oh my¡­¡± the noblewoman paused, studying the insignia. ¡°The Ignisclade have a ward in this batch?¡± Her husband¡¯s eyes darkened slightly. ¡°This year might be more interesting than we expected. Let¡¯s go make our appearances perhaps we would get to discuss our unfinished conversations in our stand.¡± ¡ª Backstage, the students had changed into crimson tracksuits, their white-laced sides a mark of the academy¡¯s prestige. Each carried a sleek black briefcase, its contents unknown but undoubtedly the key to their destiny. Grand music began to play as the students filed out in order filling up the students stand, they moved in synchrony with such beauty and elegance due to the many weeks of training and exercise. It had been ingrained in their bones at this point. A hush fell over the crowd as Principal Dvalin Ironbeard took the stage. Standing at an impressive 4¡¯1, tall for a dwarf, his burly form exuded an aura of strength. His meticulously groomed beard, woven with golden bands, shimmered under the stage lights as he raised a meaty hand. ¡°Proud students of Crimson Academy¡­¡± his voice boomed, a thunderous bass that shook the hall. ¡°Hail the Pyronis Kingdom!¡± ¡°HAIL!¡± the students roared in unison, their voices reverberating across the massive space. The principal¡¯s eyes swept over the assembly before turning to the spectators. ¡°Parents, guardians¡ªbefore you stand the future of Velos! These five hundred youths have proven their mettle in academics, discipline, and determination. They will shape the world as scholars, warriors, and rulers!¡± A cheer erupted from the audience, some parents whistling, others calling out names. Dvalin raised a massive hand, and the crowd fell silent again. ¡°In their hands, they hold briefcases containing Soul Keys, forged right here in Pyronis from the flames of the great Vulkaran Forge. Each key is a one-time artifact, the gateway to their soul¡¯s deepest truth.¡± Excitement rippled through the students. Some clutched their briefcases tighter, while others, like Roy, practically drooled over theirs. ¡°The stronger their resolve, the faster they unlock their Soul Gate, determining their Talent Rank.¡± Dvalin¡¯s deep voice resonated with finality. ¡°I have faith that among you stand future hidden dragons ready to shake the world. Prove your worth. Show us your destiny!¡± ¡°ALL HAIL!¡± the audience bellowed. ¡ª ¡°Damn, how does he do that?¡± Roy muttered, eyes still fixed on his briefcase. ¡°Do what?¡± Melissa asked, arms crossed. ¡°Make the same speech sound epic every single year.¡± Melissa rolled her eyes. ¡°You mean the same over-rehearsed script? Yeah. Real masterpiece.¡± ¡°That¡¯s at least an ¡®E¡¯ for effort.¡± Denwen smirked, but his tone lacked enthusiasm. His gaze drifted to the VIP section. ¡°I don¡¯t see your parents here, Roy.¡± Roy snorted. ¡°Did you really scan all those people?¡± Denwen shrugged. ¡°Not hard. The only place suited for your parents is up there.¡± He pointed toward the high balcony where noble families sat, adorned in finery. ¡°Well, yeah, but honestly¡­¡± Roy grinned, shaking his briefcase. ¡°Right now, this is my priority.¡± ¡°Hey, quiet down.¡± Kara nudged them, nodding toward the stage. A hush spread through the audience as a figure emerged. Walking up the stairs with effortless grace, Zara, the academy¡¯s most eye-catching instructor, took center stage. With her flowing midnight dress, piercing violet eyes, and a smirk sharp enough to cut steel, she captured every gaze¡ªespecially the males¡¯. ¡°Good day, everyone~¡± she purred into the microphone, her voice a silky melody. ¡°You can call me Zara, and I¡¯ll be your host today.¡± Then, with a mischievous wink, she leaned forward. ¡°I do hope you¡¯re all ready for a show.¡± The Awakening Begins The crowd erupted in cheers as Miss Zara took center stage. A striking figure of beauty and power, she wasn¡¯t just a Rank 4¡ªshe was at Peak Rank 4, an elite talent whose strength overshadowed even some of the academy¡¯s instructors. Her influence in this part of the continent was undeniable, and she basked in it, allowing the applause to roll over her for a moment before finally raising a graceful hand to silence them. ¡°Give another round of applause for our esteemed Principal! With him at the helm of our academy, our future remains bright.¡± Her voice was smooth yet commanding, a blend of confidence and charm that held the audience in rapt attention. The camera panned back to Principal Dvalin, who waved briefly before turning to speak with the dignitaries seated nearby. Zara let the excitement settle before continuing. ¡°Now, while I¡¯m sure most of you have a general idea of how the awakening process works, for a more detailed explanation, check the mini broadcast crystal below your seats.¡± She gestured toward the glowing feed, directing their attention to the tutorial displayed. ¡°The names of students are selected randomly¡ªten at a time. While we could theoretically conduct the process simultaneously, awakening is a delicate and dangerous ritual. A single mistake could lead to failure or, in the worst scenarios¡­¡± She let her words hang in the air, her eyes sweeping across the crowd, feeding their growing anxiety. ¡°It could result in death.¡± Gasps rippled through the audience. ¡°Mom, is big bro going to be okay?¡± Nicole¡¯s small, worried voice barely carried over the murmuring. ¡°He will, don¡¯t worry,¡± Rachel reassured her with a warm smile. ¡°Obviously, dear, have faith in your brother,¡± Varek added, ruffling her hair. Zara turned back to the main screen, where names began shuffling at high speed before gradually slowing to a halt, leaving ten names displayed in two neat rows: ¡°This is it, bro¡ªit¡¯s almost time. The moment our names appear, our journey truly begins.¡± Roy¡¯s excitement was palpable as he clenched his fists. Denwen took a deep breath, his mind quieting as his determination burned brighter. The time has come¡­ my first step toward vengeance. He will pay. I¡¯ll make him pay. A sneering voice cut through his thoughts. ¡°Come on, bro, you can¡¯t be that nervous. Unlike our boss Angus, you¡¯re nothing.¡± Denwen turned slowly, his gaze locking onto Wade Slommer. A smirk played across Wade¡¯s lips, his tone filled with mockery. The small crowd around him chuckled at the jab. Roy shot daggers at Wade with his glare. If looks could kill, Wade would have disintegrated on the spot. DING. DING. DING. The final list was confirmed, and Zara smiled brightly. ¡°We have our first set of lucky students!¡± she announced before reading the names aloud: ¡°JAREK TUBBLES, MILO BRAGGINS, KARA DAIT¡­¡± ¡°Hey, my girl got picked!¡± Vahn grabbed Varek excitedly. ¡°Crush it, my love! Daddy¡¯s here!¡± he bellowed. ¡°Dad, come on,¡± Kara groaned, embarrassed, though the small smile on her lips betrayed her amusement. ¡°¡­RUDY CLOMP, FELIX GRINDLE, BORIS MANKIN, TREVOR DUNCH, WADE SLOMMER¡­¡±Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. ¡°I guess I¡¯m going first, boss. Watch me set an example for these bums,¡± Wade declared, puffing his chest out as he stepped forward. ¡°¡­ELRIC FOBBER, ROY CLIFFORD!¡± ¡°I got picked!¡± Roy burst into laughter, slapping Denwen¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Guess I get a head start in our rivalry!¡± -- Ten cylindrical platforms rose from the stage, each bearing crimson gloves inscribed with dimly glimmering runes. The students stepped forward, placing their briefcases atop the platforms and opening them in synchrony. Inside each case was an obsidian-black key, its surface inscribed with ancient dwarven runes that pulsed with silent, terrifying power. The mere sight of it stirred something primal, as if the keys were alive, watching their wielders. ¡°So this is my Soul Key,¡± Wade whispered, greed flashing in his eyes. His fingers twitched with the urge to grab it immediately. Just wait and see, Angus. Soon, I¡¯ll surpass you. No¡ª I¡¯ll own you. Then your family will submit to mine" The twisted thoughts swirled in his mind as his hand extended toward the key. Zara¡¯s voice rang out sharply. ¡°Listen up! This is the crucial part¡ªdo not let the Soul Key touch your bare skin. Until your core awakens, you¡¯re still a mere mortal, and direct contact will devour you whole.¡± Her voice dropped into a serious tone. ¡°Not even your soul will remain.¡± Some of the students hesitated, their hands withdrawing slightly. Wade, however, barely listened. ¡°With the gloves provided, carefully lift your key in an upright manner using both hands,¡± Zara continued. ¡°Once secured, channel your essence and chant the spell to step into your inner world. Only when you¡¯re certain you¡¯re ready¡ªthen may you begin.¡± The students took deep breaths, steeling themselves. One by one, at taught they would never rush to begin their chants. Wade, on the other hand, rushed forward, eager to prove himself. He didn¡¯t take a moment to calm his mind, didn¡¯t steady his focus. Instead, his lips curled into a cocky grin as he spoke: ¡°Vetra Solis, Arkan Velorum! Rise and dance, awaken thy bearer!¡± The moment the words left his lips, his Soul Key shook violently, glowing ominously before launching toward his chest like a black meteor. For a second, silence fell. Then, Wade screamed. A scream so raw and visceral it sent shivers down the spines of everyone present. His body arched backward unnaturally, as though something was clawing at his very being. Blood erupted from his mouth, his veins turning black as liquid fire surged through him. His clothes ignited instantly, burning away in mere seconds. His skin bubbled. Then it peeled. Chunk by chunk, layer by layer, his flesh was stripped away, exposing sinew and bone. His eye sockets boiled, his hair shriveling into embers. Flames not of this world, the awakened could all see it but the unawakened could not poured from his chest, consuming him whole, yet he remained alive, locked in a state of pure agony. He thrashed violently against the protective shield that had automatically formed around him. Zara watched impassively for a moment, shaking her head. ¡°Every. Single. Year.¡± she muttered. ¡°There¡¯s always one fool.¡± Angus sighed, disappointment written across his face. ¡°Imbecile. He ignored the first and most important step.¡± Melissa crossed her arms, her eyes filled with mild pity. ¡°Clearing your mind is the foundation. He let his arrogance rush him into failure.¡± Denwen, however, said nothing. He simply watched Wade burn, memorizing the consequences of recklessness. Wade¡¯s voice had turned hoarse, his screams now gargled, wet, dying. His skin was gone, replaced with raw, charred muscle as the flames continued devouring him from the inside out. Finally, the protective shield wrapped around him like a cocoon, suppressing the flames before floating his burnt, disfigured form off the podium. The auditorium was dead silent. The reality of the stakes had finally sunk in. "Don''t worry he''d be fine. Alright who''s next" Zara''s soothing voice rang through the audience who had yet to recover. One in a Thousand ¡°I know how it is to be young and full of adrenaline, but come on, I really wish you could give this young lady some respect and follow what she says,¡± Zara said sarcastically, snapping the audience and everyone back to reality. ¡°Hey, is he really going to be alright?¡± someone asked. ¡°If it is this dangerous, why do people even risk it? In my opinion, it is not worth it,¡± another whisper was heard. This was an eye-opening scene to the newbies¡ªa stark reminder that the world of the awakened was not to be taken for granted. Although it was a yearly event, not everyone attended it. In most cases, they simply heard about what happened or watched the recordings later, but witnessing it live was an entirely different experience. The ceremony was a double-edged sword. It introduced the new generation to the world and celebrated rising talents, but it also served as a warning bell to the public. In this age of magic and technology, the concept of fatal injuries had shifted. As long as the damage was within the capabilities of medics and healers, it was permitted to continue for a while, reinforcing the dangers of a rash awakening. This method had proven the most effective. ¡°Alright, students, back to your positions. Remember, do not let any step pass you by, or you may end up in the same condition¡ªor worse.¡± The students began to take proper caution, especially Roy, who was frantically readjusting his gloves. ¡°Oh boy, I definitely don¡¯t want to end up like that guy.¡± ¡ª ¡°Come on, you can do this,¡± Rudy Clomp murmured to herself, steadying her nerves. She was a petite girl with red ribbons tying up her ponytails, her tracksuit hugging her frame as she took a deep breath. She gently closed her eyes and began to hum a song from her childhood as memories came flooding back: ¡°Mom, don¡¯t worry. When I awaken, I¡¯ll definitely become a healer to personally heal you,¡± she had said, looking down at her mother, whose heavy dark circles and pale skin told of years of suffering. The woman was too weak to even speak properly. ¡°Don¡¯t let my illness be a weight on your mind, my child,¡± her mother had whispered, her frail hand trembling as she held onto Rudy¡¯s fingers. ¡°Your father, bless his soul, left everything behind to get you into the academy. You need to look out for yourself rather than waste your time on a dying woman like me.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Mom. I¡¯ll definitely awaken and get you the healing you need,¡± Rudy had promised, fresh determination burning in her heart as a tear rolled down her cheek. ¡°Alright, no more distractions,¡± she told herself, shaking away the emotions. She began to chant a mind-clearing spell her mother had taught her, meant for this very day: ¡°Serenai Vetra, Lumis Arvanis. Winds of stillness, soothe my soul. Let shadows fade, let chaos cease. In tranquil light, my mind finds peace.¡± Repeating the chant, her gloves glowed crimson, the spell activating and channeling a soothing effect into her mind, wiping away the turmoil within. She opened her eyes, now filled with an eerie calm unlike anything she had ever felt before. ¡°So this is what magic feels like,¡± she murmured. ¡°Right. With this, I¡¯m ready.¡± Carefully picking up the key, she raised it to her face level and began her chant: ¡°Vetra Solis, Arkan Velorum! Rise and dance, awaken thy bearer!¡± The key hummed as mana flowed from her gloves into it, causing it to levitate before flying straight into her chest. Immediately, she closed her eyes and assumed a meditative position along with the others. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.¡°Guys, it¡¯s finally starting. These ones are about to pass through their soul passage into their inner worlds,¡± Zara said as a timer began. ¡°The quicker they finish their passage and emerge into their inner worlds, the better their talent.¡± ¡ª ¡°Whew, I actually thought I messed up the spell there. Looks like it worked. Hehehehe,¡± Roy chuckled, opening his eyes to a dark, eerie world. The air was thick with a strange mist, swirling like phantom fingers reaching for him. The ground beneath his feet was damp, filled with pools of viscous, inky liquid that barely reflected any light. The air was heavy, as if pressing down on his very soul. ¡°So this is my inner consciousness,¡± he mused, lifting his glowing hands, watching as the dim golden light illuminated the oppressive darkness. ¡°Learning about it and experiencing it is a whole different ball game.¡± He wasn¡¯t afraid, though. He felt an instinctual pull in a direction he couldn¡¯t see but knew he had to follow. ¡°Must be the key guiding me,¡± he thought, his steps cautious as he moved forward. Then, the pull grew stronger, his body accelerating toward something massive. It loomed before him¡ªThe Wall. The difference between the awakened and the unawakened. The divide between the mortal and the divine. The barrier that needed to be shattered to grasp the power to break mountains, dry oceans, cut through space and time. Instinctively, he placed his hand on it. A wave of emotion washed over him. The Wall didn¡¯t want to be broken. It was like a serpent shedding its skin, reluctant but knowing it must be done. ¡°I know, buddy. But it¡¯s time to go,¡± Roy whispered, channeling all the mana from the soul key into his palm. The golden light surged, veins of luminescence spreading across the wall. Then, silence. BOOM! The Wall shattered like a dam breaking, unleashing a torrential flood of pure essence. Roy was swept away, tumbling helplessly. ¡°Shit! I can¡¯t breathe!¡± he thought frantically, memories of a lecture flashing through his mind. ¡°Remember, kids,¡± their instructor Iska had said, ¡°once the wall breaks, your soul keys will actively protect you. Your job is to reach the surface before the key¡¯s mana runs out. The better your talent, the easier it will be to ascend.¡± Melissa had raised her hand. ¡°What happens if the mana runs out before we reach the surface?¡± ¡°That means your awakening fails,¡± Iska had replied. ¡°And depending on how deep you are, you could lose your life.¡± Roy gritted his teeth and stabilized himself, riding the waves, ascending faster than he ever imagined. ¡°Where¡¯s the resistance? At this speed, I¡¯ll be at the surface in no time! Hahaha!¡± he laughed, exhilarated. ¡ª- BACK AT THE HALL ¡°It¡¯s just been over a minute. The students should be approaching their respective walls,¡± Zara was saying when Roy¡¯s chest began pulsing with golden light. Silence. Then¡ª ¡°Impossible¡­¡± Angus whispered, eyes wide. ¡°Roy, oh boy, you¡¯ve outdone yourself this time,¡± Denwen said, grinning proudly. Dvalin was on his feet, voice trembling. ¡°Get me that kid¡¯s name. Now.¡± The crowd erupted in chaos. Nicole, clueless, turned to her father. ¡°Dad, what¡¯s happening?¡± ¡°Oh, my dearest sweet child,¡± he said with awe. ¡°Feast your eyes¡ªyou are looking at an A-grade talent.¡± One in a Generation Roy remained seated in a meditative position, unaware of the chaos unfolding around him. The golden sigil above his head continued to shine, growing brighter with each passing moment, filling the hall with an overwhelming radiance. The crowd erupted into an uproar, disbelief and awe spreading like wildfire. In a dimly lit gambling den across town, the tension was even more palpable. A single winner sat stunned, clutching a betting slip. "Wait... someone actually placed a bet on an A-grade talent?!" "Damn it! I wish I''d thought of that!" News of an A-grade awakening was already racing through the city streets. In the last decade, such a talent had not emerged, and in this age of rapid information, it was only a matter of time before the entire kingdom knew. ¡ª On stage, Zara¡¯s voice wavered as she monitored the sudden influx of viewers tuning in. "Wow, look at those numbers!" she exclaimed, watching as the live audience count skyrocketed from a few thousand to tens of millions. The continent housed over five hundred and fifty million people, but that didn¡¯t account for the countless others tuning in from different continents across the kingdom. She took a deep breath before addressing the global audience. "For those unfamiliar, what we''re witnessing is the birth of a one-in-a-thousand A-grade talent. Roy Clifford is on the verge of setting a record-breaking awakening time, shattering the previous best by more than two whole minu¡ª" Her voice suddenly trailed off. "Wait... what the actual fu¡ª?" The excitement in her eyes vanished, replaced by utter disbelief. ¡ª Within His Inner World Roy frowned, confusion gripping him as he scanned his surroundings. "Wait¡­ the process should be over by now, shouldn¡¯t it? Then why the hell is there another wall?" A few miles away, an ethereal barrier loomed. Unlike the first, which resembled an aged mountain forged over eons, this wall was smooth and glistening white, exuding a dignified aura of absolute purity. Strange runes, shaped in an ancient language, pulsed across its surface. A shiver ran down Roy''s spine as a strange intent whispered into his mind. He didn¡¯t need to decipher the symbols; he could feel their meaning. "You want me to touch you?" he murmured, eyes narrowing in disbelief. A sudden force surged from his essence sea, lifting him above the water until he stood upon its surface. With slow, deliberate steps, he approached the wall, extending his hand to make contact. The moment his fingertips brushed against it, his mind was torn from his body. ¡ª Visions of a Distant Battlefield A vast battlefield stretched before him, littered with corpses. The air was thick with the stench of blood and death. Above, an apocalyptic sky crackled with wild storms, torn apart by the presence of beings so powerful they could alter the land with a mere breath. Titans among mortals. Gods of war. Monsters, elves, humans, and other races stood united¡ªa coalition of apex beings, their very presence warping reality. Each of them possessed power that could crush continents with a wave of their hand and level mountains with the swing of a blade. Yet, despite their strength, a single emotion gripped them all¡ª Terror. A high elf, her body wreathed in celestial flames, stepped forward, voice trembling as she cried, "Blade Sovereign¡­ you don¡¯t know who you¡¯re messing with! With all our lives combined, we will put an end to your rampage!" If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.Her words rang empty. On a mountain of corpses, a lone figure stood, clad in a crimson aura so dense it seemed to devour light itself. In his hands, he wielded a blade so massive it defied reason. He had just torn through a monstrous lightning dragon¡ªa beast so large its mere presence blotted out the sun. Now, its remains tumbled from the sky, its severed halves crashing to the battlefield below, shaking the land with the force of a cataclysm. Blood rained down, painting the golden hair of the conqueror a deep shade of red. He threw his head back and laughed. "Hahahahaha!" Older Roy''s voice boomed across the battlefield. "If all you offer me are your lives¡ªthen it''s not nearly enough!" With a single leap, he soared high into the heavens, his blade expanding, vibrating with unrestrained might. The air itself screamed as he brought it down, cleaving through the sky as he descended straight into the heart of his enemies. ¡ª- The Awakening Chamber Roy''s vision snapped back to reality. He stood on the platform, breath ragged, mind spinning. Before he could process what had happened, his lips moved on their own, speaking words he did not understand¡ª "One with the blade." Silence. Absolute, suffocating silence. The entire hall stared at him, stunned beyond belief. His gaze instinctively flicked to Denwen, who had his mouth agape. Slowly, almost hesitantly, Denwen raised his hand, giving him a thumbs-up. Roy barely had time to react before he found himself surrounded. Principal Dvalin and a group of elite instructors stood before him, their expressions unreadable. Dvalin wasted no time, placing a firm hand on Roy¡¯s shoulder. "Roy Clifford, you¡¯re coming with us. Now." With a flash, they vanished from the stage. Zara exhaled, trying to process what had just happened. "Guys¡­ the last people to awaken an SS-grade innate ability during their ceremony were the past Emperor Amun and his brother now Emperor Seth." Her voice grew hushed. "And now, in our generation, we have another." She chuckled dryly. "Unfortunately, it seems our MVP has been stolen away. Guess he shone too brightly." ¡ª- A Painful Failure Meanwhile, Angus sat frozen, unable to hide his envy. "I don¡¯t believe it¡­ That bum. First, he gets an A-grade talent, then an SS-grade innate ability? The world must be ending." Denwen snorted. "Well, I guess it¡¯s easier to believe the world is ending than accept you¡¯ll never reach his level." Angus clenched his jaw. "Tch. Maybe our batch is just special, like the royal siblings¡¯. Who¡¯s to say I won¡¯t awaken something insane next?" "You wish," Melissa sneered. "Better keep that same energy when I wipe that smirk off your face." Before anyone could respond, a student on stage suddenly collapsed. ¡ª- Rudy pressed against the wall, and it shattered. A deafening roar filled her ears as the overwhelming current surged in, sweeping her away. "No, no, no!" she gasped, struggling to swim upward, but the weight of failure clung to her like chains. The sea grew murkier, her body heavier. "I can make it¡­ I can make it!" she repeated like a mantra, clinging to the promises she''d made¡ª To her mother. To her friends. Tears mixed with the cold water as she reached out. The surface was so close. Her soul key flickered. Then, it died. The last thing she saw before everything went black was the world above, slipping away, as her dreams were crushed beneath the waves. Seventy Five Rudy falling to the ground, failing her awakening, was just the beginning of a snowball effect as other students followed suit. Some collapsed from sheer exhaustion, while others convulsed violently. A particular student spat out blood as he crumpled, his body beginning to shrivel right before the eyes of everyone. There was no helping it; the student had all but gone on to meet his maker. The crowd gasped in horror, their previously excited murmurs turning into uneasy whispers. Essence made up the very fabric of the world. The planet thrived on it, and every law in existence was powered by it. For people to willingly break the natural barriers that separated them from wielding essence was to challenge the very order of nature itself. And nature did not take kindly to those unworthy of its gifts. Awakening was never guaranteed¡ªit was a test, a gamble with one''s own life. Yet, what is life without risk? When essence is stored within the inner cores of living beings, it can be converted into body essence¡ªthe energy used by warriors, brawlers, spearmen, swordsmen, and other combatants. These fighters channel body essence through their weapons to fight, enhancing their abilities far beyond mortal limits. On the other hand, mages refine essence into different forms of mana, bending the elements to their will. Once essence or mana can be channeled through the body, a rebirth occurs. Strength, speed, resilience¡ªevery physical attribute is elevated to levels at least ten times that of an unawakened mortal. This was the path to power, but it came with a cost. Essence, like fire, was a good servant but a terrible master. ¡ª ¡°Ah, finally, another success,¡± Zara spoke with relief as the sigil above a female student with long black hair took on a bronze glow, signaling her awakening. The oppressive mood in the hall lifted slightly, a ripple of applause breaking out among the crowd. ¡°Yes! My daughter did it! C-Grade, just like her old man!¡± A man named Vahn beamed with pride, his broad chest puffing as he watched his daughter open her eyes. On the screens above, her expression was a mix of exhaustion and joy. She had survived. She had succeeded. The weight that had pressed against her shoulders throughout the awakening had lifted, and relief was evident in her trembling smile. ¡°Congratulations, brother. After this, let¡¯s have our families take some time off to celebrate,¡± Varek said cheerfully, clapping his friend on the back. C-Grade, while not rare, was solid enough to ensure a stable path forward. Someone with such talent could at least reach mid-rank four in their lifetime. If they were exceptionally diligent, they could even break into initial rank five¡ªa level powerful enough to govern a region. ¡°Congratulations, sweetie! But remember, the cultivation journey is long and arduous. Your awakening is merely the first step. Work hard, gather merits, and the prestigious academy will back you to greatness,¡± Zara proclaimed heroically. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.A few cheers followed, but it was evident that the enthusiasm had waned. Compared to the earlier awakening, this one lacked spectacle. People craved greatness. ¡°Phew, that was close. I almost forgot to begin swimming upwards,¡± the newly awakened girl muttered under her breath, still marveling at her newfound strength. Clenching her fists, she felt the raw power coursing through her body¡ªlike fire in her veins, waiting to be unleashed. Stepping down from the stage, she entered the designated rest area for the awakened. She basked in the gazes directed her way, but unbeknownst to her, not all were admiring. ¡°If only she knew that she¡¯s nothing special,¡± Mellissa scoffed, her arms crossed as she looked on with disdain. ¡°That prideful smile would be wiped right off her face.¡± ¡ª- ¡°And that should wrap things up for the first batch,¡± Zara announced as the stage was cleared. A stat board rose from the ground, displaying numbers that sent a shudder through the room. First Batch Results: Successes: 2 Failures: 2 Deaths: 6 The atmosphere grew heavy as students stared at the chilling statistics. Six deaths in just the first batch. This was the cost of failure. Murmurs of doubt spread through the crowd like wildfire. ¡°I know what you¡¯re thinking,¡± Zara spoke, her gaze sweeping over the students. ¡°You¡¯re having second thoughts. And you should. A wise person always knows their limits. That¡¯s why I will say this now¡ª¡± She paused, letting the tension build. ¡°You can drop out at any stage. At least you¡¯ll still have your life.¡± The words hung in the air like a death sentence. A few students swallowed audibly, some already trembling. ¡°Self-will and conviction play a major role in your awakening,¡± Zara continued, her voice unwavering. ¡°The moment doubt sets in, you are already doomed. If you lack the drive, it is better to walk away now. There is no shame in preserving your life¡ªyou can always attempt this process at an accredited center later.¡± Fear rippled through the crowd. The failure rate was far too high. One girl burst into tears, stepping out of line. ¡°I-I can¡¯t do this. Dad, I¡¯m sorry.¡± Another boy followed. ¡°I can retry later at an accredited center¡­ I¡¯m not ready.¡± One by one, students began breaking away, doubt infecting their minds. The withdrawals snowballed into a mass exodus. Over four hundred students abandoned the process, leaving only seventy-five standing. Angus watched the emptying ranks with a smirk. ¡°Looks like the weeds have been sorted out.¡± ¡°Well, on the bright side,¡± Denwen murmured, his arms folded, ¡°we get to wrap this up on time.¡± The air was thick with unspoken words as Zara turned to the remaining students, her expression unreadable. ¡°The rest of you know what to do,¡± she said simply. The screen shuffled once more as the show must go on. The Weight of Flames ¡°Mellissa, as you already know, our Ignisclade family has a long history of strong and successful individuals who have made a name for themselves in both the kingdom and the empire at large,¡± her father said as they walked through the grand hall of their ancestral estate. The long corridor stretched endlessly, the walls adorned with towering portraits of Ignisclade legends. Each frame held a titan of history, their gazes burning with the weight of their accomplishments. Her father, dressed in a crisp white shirt with the top two buttons undone, had his sleeves rolled up as if to show that even greatness required work. His black hair, slicked back and polished, caught the light from the grand chandeliers above, giving it a subtle gleam. He stopped before the first portrait¡ªa man standing shirtless, muscles sculpted like iron, holding the severed head of a colossal dragon. Blood still dripped from its fangs. ¡°This right here is Brax, known as the Dragon Slayer. He stood firm in the deadly dance of the dragons in Volthera, the Kingdom of Lightning. When the royal army fell, when the skies burned with the fury of a thousand storms, he alone stood as the last man. A dozen dragons fell that day, but only one warrior remained.¡± Mellissa¡¯s gaze lingered on the portrait. The savage grin Brax wore as he clutched the dragon¡¯s head¡ªit was the look of someone who never questioned whether he would win. Someone who had no room for failure. Her father walked on, stopping before the next painting¡ªa woman draped in crimson robes, her outstretched hand clutching a burning scroll, eyes glowing with an ethereal light. ¡°This here is Sillia, the Heart of the Kingdom. It was she who unified the warring noble houses when the empire was on the brink of collapse. Her words alone held the power to sway kings, and her flames brought destruction to those who defied her rule. It is said that when she walked into a throne room, even rulers trembled, for she decided who would rise¡­ and who would burn.¡± Mellissa swallowed, moving past the portrait quickly. Her father, however, took his time, as if letting the weight of history settle before moving on. The next figure stood like a towering inferno. His armor, blackened by battle, was cracked with molten lines, as if fire coursed through his very veins. ¡°This is Vael, the Burning Sentinel. During the Siege of Aedram, the western walls crumbled, and the empire¡¯s enemies surged forward. The people screamed, the armies faltered¡ªbut Vael did not. He made his body a conduit of fire itself, unleashing flames so powerful they turned the battlefield into an ocean of molten ruin. For seven days, the city burned, but when the embers cooled, not a single enemy remained standing.¡± Mellissa bit her lip, feeling the enormity of her family¡¯s legacy pressing against her chest. But her father wasn¡¯t done. Next was a woman, her crimson cloak flowing like silk, a steel rod in one hand, a dagger in the other. Around her feet lay men¡ªnobles, warriors, criminals¡ªsome kneeling, some already burned to dust. ¡°Isolde, the Crimson Adjudicator,¡± her father murmured with reverence. ¡°With but a single decree, kings bowed, and traitors burned. She was the empire¡¯s Grand Magistrate, the highest authority in law and order. They say no one could lie in her presence¡ªher very gaze could strip a man of his falsehoods, forcing even the most hardened traitors to confess their sins. She was feared, revered¡­ and absolutely undeniable.¡± Mellissa clenched her fists. A ruler of law and judgment¡ªher ancestors had mastered not only the battlefield but the very fabric of power itself. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.And then came Theron, a man wielding a massive greatsword, its blade glowing like the first rays of dawn. His stance was effortless, yet the sheer pressure in his eyes was suffocating. ¡°Theron, the Dawn Executioner. When the Black Sun Rebellion threatened the empire, their strongest champion was said to be an immortal, undefeated in a hundred duels. Theron did not hesitate. He stepped forward, swung once, and ended the rebellion before it could even begin.¡± A single strike. Mellissa could feel her pulse hammering. Could she ever hope to reach such heights? Then came Calista¡ªa woman unlike the warriors before her. Her hands were outstretched, weaving glowing blueprints of runes and mechanisms that pulsed with arcane fire. ¡°Calista, the Phoenix Weaver. Unlike the others, she was a creator. She did not wield fire to destroy¡ªshe wielded it to reshape the world. Her inventions changed how we use essence, how we fight, how we live. Even now, the Hearthbound Core she designed powers the floating cities of the empire. Her flames did not consume¡­ they forged.¡± Mellissa exhaled, realizing she had been holding her breath. And then they came to the final portrait. A man stood tall, his back straight, his face expressionless. He was not adorned in the blood of battle. He did not hold a weapon, nor did fire blaze from his hands. He wore only a simple black coat, his golden eyes staring out from the frame, unreadable. Beneath his portrait, unlike the others, there was no list of accomplishments. No battle, no conquest, no title of war. There was only one name. Darius Ignisclade ¨C The Infernal Crown. Her father. Mellissa felt a chill creep up her spine. His name was legend, whispered in courts, feared on battlefields, and revered in shadows. Yet no one ever spoke of his feats. No records existed of his greatest victories, yet all knew his influence reached farther than even the empire¡¯s borders. Some claimed he once burned an entire noble house to the ground for defying the empire. Others whispered that he could command fire to whisper its secrets to him. What had he done? Mellissa turned to him, but her father¡¯s gaze was unreadable. His silence was heavier than the weight of the hall itself. ¡°You understand now, don¡¯t you?¡± he finally said, his voice quiet but firm. ¡°The blood of Ignisclade runs through your veins. The weight of our name is heavy, but it is yours to bear. What will you make of it, Mellissa?¡± Mellissa clenched her fists. She had always known she was born into greatness. But standing here, beneath the watchful eyes of her ancestors, she felt something else. Expectation. It was suffocating. It was terrifying. And worst of all¡ª She did not know if she could live up to it. ¡ª-- A silver light shone above her, cascading in brilliant arcs as the hall erupted into chaos. Gasps turned to cheers, the sheer force of Mellissa¡¯s awakening leaving even the most seasoned veterans speechless. Among them, her father leaned back, the faintest smirk playing on his lips. ¡°That¡¯s it, Mellissa,¡± he murmured, voice laced with approval. ¡°You didn¡¯t disappoint.¡± His gaze flickered to the side¡ªto the Emberbanes. Their expressions were unreadable, their attention no longer on Mellissa but on their own son, Angus. Hope and desperation clashed in their eyes as they looked at him showing pure struggle and strain, blood flowing out the sides of his lips Darius chuckled, a quiet, knowing sound. Tough Trial The moment the silver light of Mellissa¡¯s awakening illuminated the hall, the atmosphere shifted. The weight of history and expectation solidified in an instant, crashing down upon the gathered nobles like a roaring tide. The assembled families, both rivals and allies, fell into a stunned silence before the inevitable wave of cheers erupted. ¡°A silver grade!¡± someone in the crowd gasped, voice trembling with awe. ¡°She¡¯s a B-grade talent!¡± ¡°She¡¯s truly worthy of the Ignisclade name,¡± another murmured, eyes wide with reverence. Mellissa, still standing on the awakening platform, clenched her fists. The power coursing through her veins felt intoxicating, the raw, untapped potential of her essence burning like a firestorm within her. She didn¡¯t need to look at her father to know his gaze was on her¡ªmeasuring, judging. Approving. Darius Ignisclade leaned back, the faintest smirk playing at his lips. His golden eyes flickered with something unreadable as he regarded his daughter. ¡°That¡¯s it, Mellissa,¡± he murmured, his voice just loud enough for those close by to hear. ¡°You didn¡¯t disappoint.¡± At those words, the Emberbanes, standing nearby, stiffened. Their attention snapped away from Mellissa and toward their own son, Angus. The weight of expectation that had just been lifted from the Ignisclades now settled heavily upon them. Angus Emberbane took a deep breath, suppressing the mounting pressure in his chest. His fingers twitched at his sides, betraying the turmoil he tried so desperately to conceal. He had to succeed. He needed to succeed. ¡ª In a dimly lit chamber away from the grand hall, a hologram flickered to life. A deep voice, edged with authority, resonated through the darkness, addressing the lone figure kneeling before it. ¡°Angus, do not forget the role you have been given and how important it is that you are successful today.¡± Angus kept his head bowed. ¡°I understand. I intend to rise in ranks and become more than just an ember.¡± The voice from the hologram hummed in satisfaction. ¡°Your parents have been loyal members, rising to become Ashbornes and even Infernals. They have already been provided with the tempered enhancer pills. Do not forget to use yours¡ªit has been tampered with specifically to suit you. Your innate talent should be strong enough to act as a catalyst.¡± Angus swallowed hard, his mind racing. ¡°Yes, my lord.¡± ¡°Failure is not an option.¡± The hologram flickered and vanished, leaving the room in suffocating silence. ¡ª As the ceremony continued, Zara stood tall before the crowd, his presence commanding and unwavering. His voice, rich with experience and authority, rang through the hall, slicing through the murmurs of excitement. ¡°Finally, after two failed batches, we have a successful awakening once more,¡± he declared, his tone a careful blend of pride and expectation. The crowd erupted in applause, exhilarated by the rising success rates. In the past hour, fifty-five candidates had stepped forward. Only fifteen had emerged victorious¡ªthree C-graders, five D-graders, and seven E-graders. Roy remained the exception, his earlier awakening still casting a long shadow over the event. Despite the increased success rates, forty students had still failed. The harsh reality of the awakening process lingered, a silent reminder of the unforgiving nature of their world. Yet amidst the celebrations, all eyes slowly turned to the next candidate¡ªAngus Emberbane. The Emberbane matriarch locked eyes with Darius¡¯s wife, her expression a volatile mix of frustration and anticipation. ¡°Hmph, let¡¯s see if all our investments will bear fruit,¡± she muttered. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.Darius¡¯s wife only smiled, tilting her head ever so slightly. ¡°Don¡¯t hold your breath.¡± ¡ª Within his inner world¡­ Angus swam through the murky currents of his essence sea, his body weighed down as if shackled by chains of lead. The soul key¡¯s essence was draining rapidly, flickering like a candle against a storm. ¡°I don¡¯t get it,¡± Angus thought, his heart pounding with dread. ¡°I took the tempered enhancer pills¡ªthe modified version. Why am I not feeling its effects?¡± Panic clawed at his chest. A horrifying realization struck him like a hammer to the gut. Was his innate talent not even strong enough for this? His mind reeled. Am I truly lower than that bum, Roy? Damn it! Angus gritted his teeth, forcing himself forward against the crushing resistance of the essence sea. Memories of the past flooded his mind¡ªhis parents¡¯ expectations, the organization¡¯s investments, the sheer cost of his potential failure. If he failed to awaken, the consequences would be dire. His family might sell him off to regain their resources. He had heard the whispers of noble families who dealt with failed awakeners, trading them to organizations that conducted experiments on human specimens. The thought alone sent a shudder through his soul. No. No. ¡°It would be better if I died here than fail to awaken,¡± he whispered to himself, pushing against the consuming void. Outside, his body trembled. Blood trickled from his lips where he had unconsciously bitten into them. His mother¡¯s expression darkened, frustration and disappointment warring in her eyes. His father merely sighed, casting his gaze downward. ¡°After everything we did for him¡­¡± his mother seethed, clenching her fists so tightly her knuckles turned white. Darius¡¯s wife chuckled, her tone dripping with mockery. ¡°It must be painful, hmm? Watching all your investments go up in flames.¡± Darius himself remained silent, his gaze steady as ever, observing. Angus¡¯s father exhaled sharply. ¡°Come now, dear,¡± he said, though his voice carried a hint of sarcasm. ¡°It isn¡¯t over yet.¡± ¡ª Back in the essence sea¡­ Just as the last flicker of hope within Angus began to die, something stirred. A new warmth ignited in his dantian, an unfamiliar energy surging forth like a long-dormant volcano erupting to life. The soul key¡¯s dwindling mana was suddenly replenished, burning brighter than ever before. Angus¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°It waited¡­ it waited until the soul key was almost drained before igniting!¡± Elation surged through him as the weight on his body lifted. The essence sea, once suffocating and sluggish, now carried him upward with increasing speed. ¡°Yes!¡± He grinned, exhilarated. ¡°With this, I should be at least a C-grade. I can still be useful!¡± ¡ª Outside, the hall was deathly silent. All eyes were locked onto the sigil forming above Angus. Then¡ª A brilliant silver glow erupted, illuminating the entire chamber. The silence shattered as the crowd roared in excitement. ¡°Another one rising from near failure to claim a B-grade talent!¡± Zara exclaimed, his voice laced with a mix of admiration and intrigue. ¡°This batch truly hides dragons among men!¡± The Emberbanes inhaled sharply, their tense shoulders relaxing as relief flooded their features. Darius, for the first time that night, narrowed his eyes. His wife¡¯s smirk faded. Angus, still breathless from the awakening, lifted his gaze and locked eyes with Mellissa. Hidden Scars ¡°Hmmph, guess you had it in you after all¡± Melissa sneered towards Angus who was slowly standing up. The iron taste of the blood dripping down his lips did not stop the smile going along his lips ¡°I told you didn¡¯t I, I won¡¯t be overshadowed by the likes of you¡± he remarked proudly wiping the blood from his lips with his sleeves. ¡°Urh¡± Melissa squeezed her face in disgust ¡°you still aren¡¯t my level¡± she flung her hair backwards walking off the podium. ¡°Hey I dare you, say that to my face¡± he chased after her but suddenly paused looking directly towards Denwen with a ¡®let me see you do that¡¯ smirk. Denwen just rolled his eyes to the provocation not letting it get to him at all: ¡°I really don¡¯t have time for you, Angus, I have a goal to beat and the minimum I need would be an A grade at the very least in order to dream of reaching his level¡± he thought as a scene of a very dark past that continues to hunt him to this day flashed past his mind. ¡ª- The sky wept. Lightning split the heavens apart, illuminating the battlefield in fractured glimpses¡ªbrief flashes of chaos frozen in time. Rain poured in relentless sheets, drumming against shattered ground, washing away the blood of the fallen. The air was thick with smoke and the scent of charred ruin, yet beneath it all, there was something else. Something deeper. Despair. A hand, cold and unyielding as iron, wrapped around a small throat. The fingers clenched tighter, stealing the breath from a child''s lungs. Little Denwen kicked, clawed, his tiny fingers digging into the vice-like grip that lifted him off the ground. His body flailed, instinct screaming for survival, but the strength in that hand was absolute. Immovable. A shadow loomed over him¡ªindistinct, faceless, a mass of darkness against the storm. Nearby, another figure sprawled across the shattered earth, his body broken and drenched in blood. Rainwater mixed with crimson, streaking down his face as he tried to move, his limbs trembling from the weight of exhaustion and pain. He dragged himself forward, nails scraping against the jagged ground, every inch he gained paid for with agony. Through the downpour, his voice cracked, raw with desperation. "Please..." he gasped, his breath shallow, his words barely audible over the wailing wind. "He looked up to you... you don¡¯t have to do this." The grip on Denwen¡¯s throat tightened. The child¡¯s world blurred, his vision flickering as the pressure around his neck turned the storm¡¯s howl into muffled static. Raindrops battered his face, mixing with his own tears, the sting of cold barely registering against the numbness creeping through his body. The shadow holding him spoke then, its voice low¡ªnearly drowned out by the raging tempest, yet sharp enough to pierce through the chaos. "This is necessary." The fingers constricted further. Denwen¡¯s eyes widened. A pulse of fear struck his chest. His small hands, already trembling, reached up in vain to pry the fingers away. Darkness curled at the edges of his vision, his struggling slowing, his thoughts slipping into an abyss of confusion and terror. ¡ª- Regaining his consciousness in the hall he clenched his fists tightly: ¡°I will never, ever, experience that feeling of helplessness and weakness again¡± he swore to himself his eyes on the screen as the name sorting began to go through the remaining names. Nicole slumped back into her chair, legs swinging idly as she let out an exaggerated yawn. The ceremony had dragged on for what felt like forever, and her patience¡ªnever her strongest trait¡ªhad long since worn thin. The endless chanting, the glowing sigils, the gasps of excitement, and the murmurs of disappointment¡ªit was all starting to blur together. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.She sighed, blowing a stray lock of hair from her face. ¡°Mom, is it almost time for big bro?¡± she whined, her small hands fidgeting with the hem of her dress. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s been forever. I think I might just die of boredom before he even gets up there.¡± Rachael chuckled softly, though her eyes never left the platform. She gently ran her fingers through Nicole¡¯s hair, soothing the girl¡¯s growing frustration. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, sweetie,¡± she reassured, offering a warm smile. ¡°I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll be in the next batch to awaken. Just be patient a little longer.¡± Nicole pouted. ¡°That¡¯s what you said last time! And the time before that! It¡¯s just the same thing over and over¡ªsomeone goes up, they either glow or they don¡¯t, people cheer or sigh, and then we do it all again. And again. And again.¡± She groaned, sinking further into her seat. ¡°Can¡¯t they just wake everyone up at once?¡± Rachael shook her head in amusement. ¡°That¡¯s not how it works, darling. Awakening takes time.¡± Nicole huffed, crossing her arms. ¡°Well, it¡¯s a stupid system,¡± she grumbled. ¡°What if big bro is in the last group? I¡¯ll be asleep by then!¡± Despite her complaints, her eyes kept darting toward the stage, searching for a familiar figure. The waiting was unbearable. It wasn¡¯t just boredom¡ªthere was an anxious edge to it, a quiet hope buried beneath her frustration. After all, this wasn¡¯t just any ceremony. This was his moment. And she just wanted it to hurry up already. ¡ª-- DING! DING! The system¡¯s chime rang loud and clear, signaling the selection of the next batch. The restless crowd, caught between anticipation and fatigue, stirred as Zara, ever composed yet commanding, cleared her throat. ¡°Ladies and gentlemen,¡± his voice echoed across the hall, drawing every eye back to the grand stage. ¡°The system has decided. The next batch of faithfuls is as follows¡­¡± A hushed silence fell over the audience. Every name called was another soul standing at the precipice of fate¡ªeither soaring to greatness or plunging into mediocrity. ¡°Jarek Thorn.¡± A murmur rippled through the crowd. Another hopeful from a lesser noble house, eager to prove himself. ¡°Lior Vance.¡± A distant sigh¡ªhis family had placed high hopes on him, but expectation was a weight not all could bear. ¡°Darren Cole.¡± His father stood at the edge of his seat, hands clasped tight, lips moving in silent prayer. ¡°Felix Harth.¡± A few scattered cheers erupted¡ªhis elder brother had once been a prodigy, and the eyes of the family now rested on him. ¡°Orin Vale.¡± A noblewoman turned away, disinterested. A name she had no reason to remember. ¡°Zane Calloway.¡± The Calloway family, prominent yet unremarkable, held their breath. Would this be their moment of redemption? And then¡ª ¡°Denwen Hale.¡± The moment the name left Zara¡¯s lips, a small, electrified voice broke through the murmuring crowd. ¡°Mom, it¡¯s him!¡± Nicole practically jumped from her seat, her small hands gripping a finger-shaped placard high above her head. A radiant grin stretched across her face, eyes gleaming with excitement. The long wait, the boredom, the countless names before his¡ªnone of it mattered now. It was his turn. Beside her, Rachael felt her own pulse quicken. A mix of pride, nervous anticipation, and something deeper swirled in her chest. Unlike the others, she wasn¡¯t worried about his failure¡ªfailure wasn¡¯t an option. Still, no mother could ever truly be at ease in a moment like this. But there was no room for hesitation. Nicole¡¯s enthusiasm was infectious, and as if on cue, they both erupted into cheers. ¡°Come on! You got this! A grade or nothing!¡± Their voices cut through the din of the hall, rising above the murmurs of nobility and the murmurs of doubt. Heads turned. Some with amusement, others with annoyance. But neither mother nor daughter cared. Nicole bounced excitedly in place, her eyes locked on the stage. Her brother wasn¡¯t just another name in the roster. He wasn¡¯t just another hopeful. He was Denwen. And he was about to prove himself to the world. Born a Natural ¡°My boy¡¯s up next!¡± Varek¡¯s voice boomed with unrestrained excitement as he grabbed Vahn by the collar, shaking him roughly like a ragdoll. Vahn groaned, swatting at Varek¡¯s hands. ¡°If you¡¯re this hyped just because he¡¯s getting called up, imagine what¡¯ll happen if he actually awakens something like a B-grade¡­¡± Varek suddenly froze, his grip tightening. His eyes flared as he pulled Vahn in close, their faces mere inches apart. ¡°B-grade?!¡± he barked, as if personally offended. ¡°How dare you look down on my boy with those low expectations of yours?¡± His voice thundered through the air, making Vahn wince and cover his ears with both hands to prevent his eardrums from bursting. ¡°I¡¯m just saying, you might wanna temper your expectations¡ª¡± ¡°A-grade or nothing!¡± Varek declared powerfully, chest puffed out, exuding an air of absolute certainty. He clapped a firm hand on Vahn¡¯s shoulder, his confidence unshakable. ¡°You think I¡¯d raise anything less?¡± Vahn sighed, rubbing his temples. ¡°You know, it¡¯s not the result of the awakening that kills a man,¡± he said dryly, trying to pry himself free from Varek¡¯s vice-like grip. ¡°It¡¯s the high expectations that destroy him.¡± Varek scoffed, tightening his hold around Vahn¡¯s neck in a mock chokehold, making his friend¡¯s face turn red. ¡°Come on, bro, you more than anyone should know¡ªDenwen was born for this.¡± Vahn coughed, tapping at Varek¡¯s arm in protest. ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean he¡ªack¡ªhas to be perfect,¡± he choked out. ¡°Perfect?¡± Varek released him with a dramatic flourish and spread his arms wide. ¡°Denwen isn¡¯t just perfect. He¡¯s beyond it! He¡¯s excelled in sports since he could walk, has a body even top-tier Rank 1 models would envy, and don¡¯t get me started on his work ethic.¡± Varek¡¯s voice took on a grand, storytelling tone, his expression full of pride. ¡°And then, of course, there¡¯s his greatest feat of all¡ª¡± Vahn groaned. ¡°Here we go again¡­¡± ¡ª- Six years ago, "Come on, baby girl, we have to go home, or your mum is going to be very mad at us," Varek said, his deep voice carrying a playful warmth as he pulled a little girl along. Nicole, a bundle of mischief and energy, suddenly yanked her tiny hand free, making a mad dash toward a brightly lit toy shop. Varek sighed but smiled as he lunged forward, scooping her up with practiced ease and swinging her onto his broad shoulders. "No, no! Nicole wants a toy!" she babbled, her small fists pounding against his head in protest. Her fiery little tantrum was nothing new, and it only made his grin widen. "You know what?" he said, shifting his hold to secure her. "If you behave, Daddy will fly you home on his head." Nicole¡¯s pout wavered, her eyes lighting up as she gasped. "Really?" Varek nodded. "But only if my little princess behaves." A giggle burst from her lips as she opened her arms wide, already feeling the rush of wind as he prepared for her favorite game. He placed her stomach-down on top of his head, gripping her hands while pretending to be a jet engine. Then, with a deep breath, he took off running. "Vroooom!" he imitated the sound of an aircraft, zigzagging through the empty street while Nicole squealed with laughter, the sound ringing like bells in the cool evening air. Despite his playful demeanor, Varek subconsciously picked a shortcut through a lonely road. It was always the fastest way home, but Nicole never liked it. The street was narrow and dimly lit, the old lamps flickering as if struggling to hold back the encroaching darkness. The scent of damp earth and rotting wood filled the air, a result of the abandoned buildings that lined the path. Shadows stretched unnaturally, distorting against the cracked pavement. A cold breeze whistled through gaps in the ruined structures, carrying eerie whispers that made the road feel¡­ haunted. Nicole¡¯s grip on Varek¡¯s hair tightened. "Daddy¡­" she whispered, her voice suddenly small. "I don¡¯t like this place." Varek slowed his pace slightly. He could feel her tiny body tense atop his head. This happened every time they walked this way. The loneliness of the road¡ªit was almost alive, pressing against them, watching. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road."Hey," he said softly, reaching up to pat her hand. "What did Daddy tell you?" Nicole hesitated. "That as long as you''re here, nothing bad can happen to me¡­" "That¡¯s right," Varek said with a reassuring chuckle. "And who am I?" She sniffled but answered in a tiny voice. "The strongest." "The strongest," Varek repeated with a grin. "So don¡¯t be scared, baby girl. No shadow, no monster, nothing in this world can hurt you as long as I''m here." Nicole nodded against his head, her fingers still gripping his hair. But then¡ªa sound. Distant, yet sharp. The unmistakable clash of battle. Varek¡¯s easy smile vanished in an instant, his body tensing. His warrior instincts flared to life, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. He came to a halt, listening intently. The wind carried muffled grunts, the sound of something heavy hitting the ground, followed by an ear-piercing screech. Not human. "Nicole," Varek¡¯s voice lowered into a firm whisper. "Stay close to me." The atmosphere shifted as his battle axe materialized from his spatial ring, the weight familiar in his grip. The cold steel gleamed under the weak lamplight. His stance changed¡ªfeet firmly planted, muscles coiled, senses sharpened. The fight was close. He moved quickly, each step silent yet sure as he followed the sounds. As he turned a corner, he reached a clearing and stopped dead in his tracks. In the center of the bloodied battlefield stood a boy. No older than ten. He fought with a precision and skill far beyond his years, his movements sharp and calculated, each strike executed with ruthless efficiency. His body¡ªlean, sculpted like a warrior. His expression¡ªcold, devoid of fear, hesitation, or doubt. Surrounding him were four already slain creatures¡ªmassive, grotesque figures, their lifeless bodies twisted on the ground. And before him¡ªtwo more. Blind Walkers. The beasts were horrifying. They stood on four legs, their bodies covered in matted fur that barely hid the grotesque muscle underneath. They were the size of huskies but with elongated, unnatural limbs, their claws thick and jagged, capable of tearing through flesh with ease. Their heads¡­ that was the worst part. Where eyes should have been, there was only smooth, featureless skin, a terrifying absence that made them even more unnatural. Their elongated snouts twitched aggressively, their sense of smell compensating for their blindness. Their mouths were jagged with uneven, needle-like teeth that chattered eerily, saliva dripping onto the blood-soaked ground. Despite their nightmarish appearance, the boy stood firm. With a single calculated step, he shifted his weight, his footwork flawless. The first Blind Walker lunged. The boy spun effortlessly, his broken dagger blade slashing upward in a clean arc¡ªsevering its head mid-air. Before the second beast could react, he had already shifted, a precise thrust piercing through its skull. It let out a strangled shriek before falling limp. Just like that. He had dispatched an entire pack of Rank 1 monsters¡ªcreatures that normally required a team of at least four low-ranked warriors led by a mid-Rank 1 captain. And yet, he did it alone. Varek stared, momentarily stunned. Blood stained the boy¡¯s clothes, streaked across his arms and legs. His breathing was steady, his expression unchanged. The crimson splattered on his pale skin only made him look more valiant, as if this was just another routine fight. Nicole, still perched on Varek¡¯s shoulders, stared with wide, awe-filled eyes. To her, he wasn¡¯t just a boy. He was a hero. Varek finally found his voice. "Excuse me," he called out cautiously, taking a step forward. "Who are you?" The boy turned sharply, his cold, calculating gaze locking onto Varek. For the first time in years, Varek¡ªa seasoned Rank 3 warrior¡ªfelt a chill crawl up his spine. His instincts screamed. Something in those eyes¡­ something far too sharp, far too knowing for a mere child. Before he could react¡ª Darkness. His body suddenly weakened. The world spun. His vision blurred. Then, without warning¡ª He collapsed. Unconscious. Shock "You keep running your mouth about that story, but come on, bro¡ªit''s a little hard to believe," Vahn said, finally breaking free from Varek¡¯s grip. He stretched his sore neck, sighing in exasperation, only for a tiny fist to suddenly smack the back of his head. "My dad isn¡¯t lying!" Nicole huffed, puffing her tiny chest out in defiance. "I was there! I saw big bro beat down those evil Blind Walkers with nothing but a broken dagger!" She planted her hands on her waist, mimicking her father¡¯s stance. Varek mirrored her, both of them standing side by side like two peas in a pod, grinning triumphantly. Vahn groaned, rubbing his head as he glanced between them. "Good gracious¡­ How did I even get myself involved with this duo?" He shook his head, feeling the weight of his life¡¯s poor choices. "You know," Racheal suddenly interjected, her voice calm and composed. "Even if the story seems exaggerated, it¡¯s undeniable that Denwen¡¯s body structure is different from his peers. His muscle definition, posture, and reaction speed are all exceptional for someone his age. That alone suggests his potential for a high-grade awakening." Vahn turned to her like a man who had just been saved from drowning. "Finally! Someone sane in this family!" He clasped his hands together in mock prayer, sending a grateful look her way. Varek and Nicole exchanged a look, then simultaneously rolled their eyes. "Killjoy," they muttered under their breath. ¡ª- Denwen stepped onto the stage with a calm, measured pace. His posture was straight, his movements precise, exuding an effortless grace that few could match. The murmurs among the crowd grew louder, students whispering feverishly amongst themselves as he ascended the steps. The examiner, Zara, met him with a respectful nod. Even she couldn¡¯t hide her intrigue¡ªthis was the most well-rounded student in the academy. A prodigy in every aspect: sports, combat practice, mana and essence theory, spell memorization, and tactical comprehension. He wasn¡¯t just skilled; he was the complete package. After Roy¡¯s awakening shattered records, expectations were at an all-time high. If Roy set a new ceiling, then Denwen was expected to break through it entirely. The anticipation thickened the air. ¡ª- In the seating area, Mellissa leaned back with an air of superiority, arms crossed, watching Denwen with an amused smirk. "I bet you he gets an B-grade," she declared confidently, flipping her golden curls over her shoulder. "Honestly, it wouldn¡¯t surprise me if he pulled off an A. It¡¯s only natural for people of exceptional breeding to rise above the rest." Kara raised an eyebrow. "Exceptional breeding?" "Of course," Mellissa replied, as if it were obvious. "Some people are simply born superior. Denwen just happens to be one of them." Kara scoffed but said nothing, while Angus¡ªwho had been eerily quiet¡ªlet out a sneering laugh. "Are you guys serious?" He leaned forward, his voice laced with venom. "The stories about him have always been so exaggerated. The way people talk about him, you¡¯d think he¡¯s some legendary figure reborn or something. But I see through it." His hands clenched into fists, a nasty glint in his eyes. "He¡¯s nothing special," Angus continued, his voice dripping with scorn. "You all have been fooled by his flashy acts and lucky moments. But today?" He grinned wickedly. "Today, we get to see the ¡®perfect¡¯ Denwen fail. And when that happens, all of you will realize just how pathetic he really is." Mellissa wrinkled her nose in disgust. "How bitter can you be? It¡¯s honestly embarrassing at this point." Kara frowned slightly, sensing the sheer hostility in Angus¡¯s tone. Angus didn¡¯t care. His gaze was locked on Denwen, filled with an almost crazed hope¡ªhope that this moment would finally prove he was right. ¡ª The entire gathering had now turned their full attention to the stage. A sea of students, nobles, commoners, and instructors all murmured amongst themselves, their voices a chaotic mix of excitement, nervousness, and awe. "He''s gonna awaken some insane innate ability, right?" "There''s no way he''s anything below an A-grade. I mean, look at him!" "I heard he trained in secret with high-ranked warriors since childhood. That¡¯s why his body''s so refined." "Imagine getting a A awakening from two people in the same batch. That hasn''t happened since the royal brothers!" Everywhere, eyes glowed with expectation. Denwen wasn¡¯t just another student taking the stage¡ªhe was the moment. His presence alone turned everyone else on stage who had their own stories and motivations into forgettable side characters. ¡ª- Denwen stepped forward with the same unshakable composure that had defined him for years. Every movement was deliberate, effortless, carrying an air of quiet confidence that made those watching hold their breath. The gloves adjusted to his hands the moment he slipped them on, the enchanted fabric shrinking and expanding until it fit perfectly. The inside was unnaturally smooth¡ªa whisper of silk against his skin, weightless, as if he wore nothing at all. A faint glow pulsed along the runes embroidered into the material, indicating that the connection had been established. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.His fingers brushed against the Soul Key before curling around it with a firm grip. The key buzzed with latent energy, a pulse of power that resonated through his veins. A hush settled over the hall. Denwen exhaled slowly, bringing his mind into focus. Unlike Rudy, whose spell had been simple, he had prepared something far more intricate¡ªa sophisticated chant designed to purge distractions completely. His voice, when it emerged, was measured and powerful, carrying a cadence that commanded the very air around him: "Sile, anima turbata, pacem amplectere. Fugiant tenebrae, lux interius renascitur. Venti furentes, maris tumultus, nunc quiescite. Let the restless mind be still, let the storm be hushed. Spiritus aeternus, flumen quietis decurrat, Carrying away the weight of fear and doubt. By the will of balance, let serenity last, By the call of silence, let peace reign at last." As the last syllable left his lips, the runes on the gloves flared to life, casting an ethereal glow that bathed his hands in a gentle golden hue. The audience stirred, whispers of admiration rippling through the grand hall. Even those who had underestimated him couldn''t deny the depth of his spell. His eyes flickered open, the light reflecting in his gaze like a still lake under the morning sun¡ªclear, steady, unshaken. The spell had cleansed his thoughts, leaving only an unyielding tranquility in its wake. He turned his attention back to the Soul Key. Taking a deep breath, he raised the key into the air and spoke the sacred invocation: ¡°Vetra Solis, Arkan Velorum! Rise and dance, awaken thy bearer!¡± The key responded immediately, trembling as its energy surged. Then¡ªit lifted. Gasps echoed through the hall. The online audience flooded the chat with messages as more people tuned in, eager to witness the moment. The key floated higher, humming with resonance, then¡ªin a smooth arc¡ªit descended, piercing straight into Denwen''s chest. He closed his eyes and entered his inner passage. ¡ª- The hall was completely still. All eyes were locked on the awakening sigil. For the first few seconds, gold blazed across the sigil with undeniable brilliance. A rank. Varek shot up from his seat, slamming a fist into Vahn¡¯s shoulder with overwhelming excitement. ¡°SEE?! I TOLD YOU!¡± he bellowed, his voice drowning out the roar of the crowd. His son had done it. Nicole clapped her hands with glee, jumping up and down. Vahn winced, rubbing his now-bruised shoulder. ¡°Yeah, yeah, I get it¡ª¡± Then Zara''s voice was already booming through the speakers. ¡°As expected, he has gone on to break¡ª¡± The words never finished. A sharp, unnatural flicker disrupted the golden glow. Denwen''s breath hitched. The sigil pulsed erratically, the once-radiant gold beginning to flicker¡ªthen dim. It happened too fast for anyone to process. His body tensed, a sharp strain appearing across his features. Blood seeped from his nose, a thin trickle sliding down his lips. His ears, his eyes¡ªred began to stain his skin. His breathing grew ragged, his hands trembling slightly against his thighs. The audience erupted into stunned murmurs. Something was wrong. Varek¡¯s excitement froze mid-expression, his victorious grin slipping into confusion. Nicole¡¯s joy faded into a worried frown, her small hands clenching into fists. The announcer hesitated. ¡°What¡¯s going on? Why is the sigil¡ª?¡± Then¡ªit happened. The last traces of gold vanished. In its place, a deep, verdant green spread across the sigil¡ªan undeniable sign of D-rank. A horrified silence fell over the hall. The contrast was staggering. From the highest heights to a sheer, unrelenting fall. Varek''s breath caught in his throat. Nicole¡¯s hands dropped to her sides. The students who had been cheering moments ago stared in disbelief, their faces frozen with incomprehension. Angus blinked once¡ªtwice. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a smirk. His laugh was quiet at first, but it grew louder, sharper, laced with pure satisfaction. He leaned back in his seat, arms crossed, eyes glinting with vindication. The mighty Denwen had fallen. Melissa, usually the picture of composure, didn''t even attempt to hide the look of barely-contained amusement spreading across her face. The online chat exploded. ¡°What the hell just happened?!¡± ¡°Did the system break? Why did it drop?!¡± ¡°No way. NO. WAY. ¡°D-rank? That¡¯s¡ª¡± Zara gripped the microphone, trying to regain control. ¡°There seems to be¡ª¡± She never finished. Because at that moment, Denwen''s body collapsed. Something Dark Moments after the key sank into his chest, Denwen¡¯s breath hitched as he took his meditative pose. A sharp pull, like a tide yanking him under, dragged his consciousness inward. He opened his eyes. A heavy, suffocating silence pressed down on him. The world around him was dark and muddy, the air thick with an eerie stillness. Shadows stretched long and unnatural, flickering along the uneven terrain. The ground beneath his feet was damp and heavy, the texture resembling soaked, decayed soil¡ªsoft, but unsettlingly unstable. Drip. A slow, steady drop of liquid echoed in the distance. Drip. Drip. Denwen inhaled deeply, his breath misting in the air. There was an unnatural chill here, one that seeped beneath his skin. He tilted his head upward, expecting to see the vast, open sky of the soul passage. Instead¡ªthick, roiling clouds choked the heavens, swirling in endless waves of murky gray and black. Even the faintest slivers of light struggled to pierce through. "This is strange," Denwen muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, yet somehow amplified in the vast emptiness. He took a step forward, the muffled squelch beneath his boots sending ripples across the shallow puddles of essence scattered throughout the landscape. Denwen frowned, his golden eyes narrowing. There was too much essence here. According to the Basics of Essence and Mana Theory, an unawakened individual¡¯s soul passage would usually contain small, scattered pools of residual energy¡ªmurky, stagnant, and eerie, remnants of absorbed essence that had yet to be refined. These puddles existed due to the body''s natural limitation¡ªan inability to properly absorb essence before awakening. Yet here, in Denwen¡¯s passage, it was different. The pools weren¡¯t small. They were everywhere. Some stretched wide enough to resemble miniature lakes, others reached his knees, their surfaces unnervingly still, yet not entirely stagnant. A faint glow pulsed within the waters¡ªnot the usual sickly, unmoving sludge of an unawakened body but something alive, shifting, whispering. Denwen crouched by one of the larger pools, dipping his fingers into the liquid essence. The moment his skin touched the surface¡ªa soft hum vibrated through his bones. It was active. Still absorbing. Still pulling in essence from the world beyond. His heart pounded. ¡°This is absurd,¡± he whispered, the weight of the realization settling into his chest. His body wasn¡¯t acting like someone who had hit their limit. It wasn¡¯t like a normal sixteen-year-old whose absorption process had already stopped. It was still working. Still refining. Still hungry. Could this be the reason behind his superior physique? The reason his body felt sharper, stronger, faster than his peers? Was his body naturally feeding on external essence, reinforcing itself beyond normal limits? He slowly stood, gaze flickering toward the distant horizon. The Wall. The boundary between his inner self and the vast ocean of essence beyond¡ªthe final barrier that one must break through to awaken. It loomed ahead, a towering mountain that had withstood the waves of time for eons, stretching endlessly in all directions. Normally, the wall appeared strong, steady and unmoveable, with it jagged edges that resonates with the soul of the unawakened But here? Denwen felt his throat tighten. The wall was cracked. Hairline fractures webbed across its surface, barely noticeable but unmistakably there. Essence leaked from the cracks in slow, almost sorrowful streams, dripping into the pools around him like a wound that had never fully healed. And at its base¡ªwhere he should have seen only dry ground¡ªa lake of essence churned. Denwen exhaled, his breath shaking slightly. This¡­ this wasn¡¯t normal. Something was wrong, extremely wrong with him. ¡ª "Hopefully, this anomaly works out well for me." Denwen exhaled sharply, pressing his palm against the towering wall. The moment his skin touched its cool, cracked surface, the Soul Key''s mana surged through his veins, a wildfire rushing from his core to his fingertips. Crack. The fractures along the wall shuddered, expanding violently as if something ancient had been waiting to be unleashed. CRACK. CRACK. BOOOOOM! A deafening explosion rang out as the wall collapsed, the sheer force of it sending shockwaves through the soul passage. And then¡ª The flood came. Tides of pure, unrestrained essence erupted like a tsunami, slamming into him with the force of a mountain collapsing. The moment it hit¡ªDenwen was ripped off his feet. WHOOSH! The current ragdolled him mercilessly, his body twisting and tumbling through the violent surges. His world spun uncontrollably. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.But his instincts roared to life. "Stay focused, Denwen! Stay focused and follow the tides!" Through the chaos, he forced his body to align with the flow, kicking off the currents with outrageous speed. His movements were precise, effortless, natural¡ª far surpassing even the speed of the strongest awakened A-Grade he had read about. The pressure of the sea no longer held him down. He tore through the water like a living spear, cutting through resistance as he surged toward the surface. He could feel it¡ªhis success, his breakthrough, his strength. He could taste the new world awaiting him. And then¡ª SPLASH! The waters gave way, parting around him like a being had just transcended. He stood upon the surface, his chest heaving, his heart thundering with exhilaration. He had done it. The Soul Key still burned within him, more than 95 percent of its energy untouched, searing his very soul with its power. His golden eyes gleamed with uncontainable excitement. "A-Grade... for sure." Maybe even more. Maybe he could awaken an innate talent like Roy. Denwen grinned, elation bursting in his chest. He was on the precipice of something beyond his imagination. But then¡ª Nothing happened. His grin wavered. The silence stretched. No new challenge appeared. No mystical force signaled the completion of his awakening. No sensation of transcendence filled his being. His heart began to pound¡ªnot from excitement, but from a growing sense of unease. "Wait... that should be it." His voice sounded small against the endless sea. "Either a new challenge should appear... or I should be out of here already." A creeping chill ran down his spine. Then¡ª BOOM. The sea beneath him shuddered violently, a deep, primordial tremor that rattled his very bones. An aura unlike anything he had ever felt descended. Denwen froze, his breath hitching as the weight of it crashed down on him. It wasn¡¯t just power. It was an existence beyond reason. An entity so vast, so immeasurable, so devastatingly deep, that even standing in its presence felt like a defilement of nature. Crack. The sky above fractured. The horizon distorted. Denwen¡¯s legs trembled. His very essence screamed in protest. ¡°What¡­ the¡­ fuck¡­ is happening?¡± His lungs strained, each breath becoming shallower, weaker, harder to take in. It was as if the air itself refused to exist under the crushing force of the entity below. His mind raced, flipping through every text, every scrap of knowledge he had ever read about oddities in awakenings. Nothing. Nothing matched this. The pressure intensified. It felt like something was looking at him. Something beyond comprehension. ¡°I have to get out of here.¡± Denwen made his decision in an instant. He knew the risks. He knew the consequences. But if he stayed here, he wouldn¡¯t just fail¡ªhe would cease to exist. He sucked in a sharp breath, his lips parting to chant the Awakening Breaking Spell¡ªthe final desperate escape. A fatal gamble. If he was lucky, he would keep his life. If not¡ª WHOOSH! Before he could utter the first syllable¡ª The sea roared. A whirlpool formed beneath him, spiraling into an abyss so deep it swallowed the very light from above. The ocean¡¯s surface, once calm, turned into a monster¡ª A tsunami over a kilometer high rose before him, blotting out the sky, stealing the last of his hope. CRAAAASSHHH! The wave came down. Denwen was crushed. Dragged. Pulled. Devoured. The whirlpool sucked him in, the currents attacking from every direction at once. He tried to swim¡ªhe couldn''t. He tried to follow the flow¡ªthere was no flow to follow. He tried to rise¡ªbut only sank faster. The Soul Key¡¯s protective energy burned faster and faster, a wildfire that had suddenly found itself without enough fuel to last. He was running out of time. Denwen fought. He struggled with everything he had. His arms grew heavier, his body sluggish. His mind screamed at him¡ª Move. Move. MOVE! But he couldn''t. The pressure wrapped around him like chains, dragging him deeper into the unknown. His breath caught¡ªhis chest burned. And then¡ª He lost sight. The crushing darkness took his vision first. Then¡ªhis hearing faded, swallowed by the endless roar of water and something more¡ªa deep, guttural hum that didn¡¯t belong to this world. His arms, his legs¡ªhe could no longer feel them. His mind¡ªnumb. Panic became despair. And despair became silence. The last embers of the Soul Key fizzled out. A single tear slipped from his eye, disappearing into the void. In that moment, as his body was swallowed whole, a single thought passed through his fading consciousness¡ª "Is this how much I amount to?" Echoes of Failure Darkness. It wasn¡¯t just the absence of light¡ªit was a suffocating void, an abyss that clung to his skin like tar, thick and inescapable. A bitter, metallic scent filled his nostrils, something like rusted iron mixed with the rot of decaying flesh. A soft drip¡­ drip¡­ drip echoed in the distance, but Denwen couldn¡¯t tell where it came from. It was everywhere. Seeping into his bones, sinking into his mind. His body felt¡­ wrong. Heavy. Like something had wrapped around his limbs, dragging him deeper into the abyss. Then¡ª A voice. "You were never meant to succeed." The whisper slithered against his ear, cold and slick, like a snake brushing against his skin. He turned, but there was nothing. Just endless black. Then the darkness shifted, shapes forming within its depths. And suddenly the world began to swirl¡ª then he was there. A cold wind howled through the ruins of his childhood home. The walls were shattered, scorched black by flames that had long since died out. The air reeked of smoke and charred flesh, a putrid mix that made his stomach churn. Rachel lay in the rubble. "Mom!" Denwen sprinted forward, his legs trembling, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Blood pooled beneath her, thick and dark, spreading like an inkblot. Her body¡ªtwisted, broken, her once warm brown eyes now glassy and empty. "Denwen..." Her lips moved, but the voice didn¡¯t match. It was distorted, inhuman¡ªlike a chorus of whispers layered over one another. Her fingers twitched. A slow, jerking motion. Then¡ªher body twisted, bones snapping into unnatural angles as she crawled toward him, eyes hollow, mouth stretching wider, wider, until it wasn¡¯t a mouth anymore¡ªjust an endless, gaping void. "Why didn''t you save me?" A cold hand gripped his wrist. Denwen screamed. The world turned crimson red as a vortex appeared, sucking him into an entirely new environment. His surroundings melted away like burning wax. He was on a battlefield now¡ªa vast, open wasteland littered with corpses. Broken weapons. Shattered armor. The sky was blood-red, the wind thick with the stench of decay. And there¡ªstanding in the distance, a sword dripping with fresh blood¡ªwas Roy. "Roy?" Denwen¡¯s voice cracked. He took a shaky step forward, his boots squelching in the blood-soaked mud. Roy turned to him. Denwen''s heart stopped. His best friend¡¯s once bright blue eyes were cold. Empty. The warmth that had always been there¡ªgone. Then he smiled. A slow, cruel thing. "You were never meant to be one of us." A sharp whistle through the air¡ª And Roy¡¯s blade pierced through Denwen¡¯s chest. Denwen gasped, his body jerking as hot pain exploded from his core. Blood bubbled up his throat, his vision swimming in red. Roy twisted the blade. "You were always too weak." He heard a familiar whimper behind him turning around the battlefield shifted with his vision. Now¡ªhe stood in the school courtyard. The sky overhead was a sickly shade of gray, the sun nothing but a dim, lifeless orb. A scream. Denwen turned sharply¡ªhis breath catching in his throat. Nicole was there, but she wasn¡¯t alone. A shadow loomed behind her, its form shifting, writhing¡ªeyes, so many eyes, staring at him with twisted amusement. Denwen lunged forward¡ª Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Too late. The thing plunged a clawed hand straight through Nicole¡¯s chest. She choked, her body convulsing as blood sprayed from her lips. Denwen reached out, his fingers brushing hers¡ª "Den...wen..." Her voice was weak. And then¡ªshe was yanked away, her body disappearing into the darkness. Denwen¡¯s hands clenched into fists. His arms shook. He had failed. Again. The world collapsed in on itself, dragging him into a new nightmare. He was alone now. Floating in an infinite void, his body weightless, his mind fracturing. He tried to speak¡ªhis voice didn¡¯t come. He tried to move¡ªhis limbs didn¡¯t respond. The darkness around him tightened, like a living thing, wrapping around his throat, squeezing. "You were never meant to be strong." The voice returned, echoing in the abyss. "You will never be strong." His body contorted, his bones snapping one by one, his skin splitting open as the darkness ate into him, tearing him apart from the inside. Denwen tried to scream¡ª And then¡ª He stood before a long row of graves. The wind was cold. Silent. The sky above a dull, lifeless gray. Names were carved into the stone markers. Racheal Hale. Nicole Hale. Varek Hale Roy Clifford. Denwen¡¯s breath hitched. His chest tightened, pain swelling inside him like an unbearable weight. His hands shook as he traced the names, his fingers cold, numb. Then¡ªhis own grave appeared. Denwen Varkein. The ground beneath his feet split open. A skeletal hand burst forth¡ªgrabbing his ankle, pulling him down into the cold, damp earth. He struggled, he fought, but the grave would not let him go. "You will never escape your failure." ¡ª Denwen gasped. His body jerked violently, his lungs burning as he sucked in air like a drowning man breaking the surface. Light¡ªtoo bright. Sounds¡ªtoo sharp. The smell of antiseptic stung his nose. His hands clawed at the sheets. He was drenched in cold sweat, his body trembling uncontrollably. His heartbeat¡ªwild, erratic, hammering against his ribs. "Denwen!" A voice¡ªsoft, warm, familiar. His mother. Racheal was at his side in an instant, pulling him into her embrace. Her arms tightened around him, solid and real. He could hear her heartbeat, feel the warmth of her body, smell the faint traces of jasmine in her hair. She was alive. Denwen shook. His breath came out in ragged sobs, his entire body trembling as he clung to her. From the corner of the room, Roy and Varek stood frozen. Roy was the first to move. He turned quickly. "I¡¯ll get the doctor." His voice was strained, his usual confidence replaced by something else¡ªsomething he rarely showed. Guilt. Denwen barely registered it. Because before he could even process what was happening¡ªNicole was suddenly there, gripping his hand so tight it almost hurt. Her face was pale, her eyes swollen from crying. "Denwen¡ª" Her voice broke. And then¡ªshe was sobbing, burying her face against his chest, her whole body shaking. Denwen¡¯s throat tightened. He didn¡¯t know what to say. He didn¡¯t know what to do. All he could do was sit there, soaked in sweat, the echoes of his nightmares still whispering in his ears, as the weight of everything came crashing down on him. And for the second time in his life¡ª He felt true fear. Cleared to Leave The door burst open. A crisp gust of sterilized air rushed in, carrying the scent of disinfectants and medicinal herbs. The rhythmic clatter of boots against the tiled floor echoed sharply, heralding the arrival of five healers draped in long, deep-green robes embroidered with golden filigree along their cuffs and hems. Their movements were swift, precise, and disciplined¡ªa stark contrast to the heavy, sorrowful air that had weighed down the room moments before. At the forefront of the group strode a woman who commanded attention with every step. Dr. Elara Vensett. Her presence alone was enough to silence a room. She wore a pristine, tailored white lab coat¡ªan unmistakable mark of her superior status among the healers. Unlike the green-robed subordinates behind her, Elara¡¯s coat had silver-threaded runes running along the sleeves, pulsating faintly with essence, a testament to her mastery of the healing arts. A small, polished badge gleamed at her collar, bearing the insignia of Vensett Medical, the town¡¯s premier¡ªand only remaining¡ªhealing institution. A woman in her late forties, Elara carried herself with the poised grace of someone who had built an empire from the ground up. Sharp, dark eyes framed by silver-rimmed glasses surveyed the room with meticulous precision. Her jet-black hair, streaked with strands of silver, was pulled into a strict bun, not a single strand out of place. For years, she had been known for her cold, unsentimental approach to healing. She was not in the business of false hope or unnecessary sympathy¡ªonly results. Those who sought her aid knew one truth: if Dr. Elara declared a case hopeless, then there truly was no saving the patient. Yet, as her gaze landed on Denwen, something in her expression flickered. A crack in the unshakable wall of certainty she had built over decades of experience. Still, her voice remained professional and firm as she spoke. "Ma¡¯am, I need you to step aside while we conduct a full scan on the boy." It wasn¡¯t a request¡ªit was an order. Racheal hesitated for only a second, reluctant to let go of her son, but a gentle squeeze on her shoulder from Varek made her step back. She leaned in, brushing a trembling hand through Denwen¡¯s damp hair before whispering, "It¡¯s okay, my boy. Everything¡¯s going to be alright." Nicole, who had been clinging to Denwen¡¯s arm, buried her tear-streaked face into Racheal¡¯s embrace, muffling her quiet sobs as she was pulled away. The room fell into a tense silence. Two of the green-robed healers stepped forward, taking their positions¡ªone at the head of the bed, the other at Denwen¡¯s feet. With a synchronized motion, they extended their hands over him, their fingers trembling slightly as they channeled their mana. A luminous white film pulsed into existence, spreading across Denwen¡¯s body like a thin, rippling veil of light. Fwoom. The air grew heavy with energy as the diagnostic spell activated, humming softly like a beating heart. The white glow wavered for a moment before stabilizing, forming a protective cocoon around him. Then, Elara moved. She approached with the slow, deliberate steps of a predator assessing its prey. Raising a gloved hand, she placed it gently on the glowing film. The second her fingers made contact¡ª Her pupils dilated. A low, barely audible hum vibrated through her body, and a sudden surge of violet energy coursed through her irises. Her pupils shifted, glowing softly with an ethereal purple light. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. Her subordinates exchanged uneasy glances. They had never seen her react this way before. Seconds stretched into eternity as Dr. Elara analyzed every aspect of Denwen¡¯s body, her expression an unreadable mask of shock and intrigue. Finally¡ª She stepped back, inhaling sharply, her grip on her glasses tightening as if grounding herself from what she had just witnessed. "Hah... Interesting." The word slipped from her lips, not with detached professionalism, but with something else. Something dangerously close to genuine astonishment. Her subordinates stiffened. Dr. Elara Vensett did not get surprised. Ever. For years, she had treated warriors and hunters on the brink of death, patched up adventurers who had fought against nightmares beyond human comprehension, and performed surgeries so delicate that a single mistake could mean an instant, agonizing demise. And yet¡ªthis boy had made her falter. She turned to Racheal, her voice dropping slightly, but the sharp edge of authority never faded. "Your boy is completely fine. Completely recovered." Silence. Everyone stared at her, waiting for the inevitable ¡®but.¡¯ Waiting for the reasoning, the explanation. It never came. Denwen lay there, breathing steadily, as if he had never even been on the brink of death. As if the trauma, the damage, the near-fatal ordeal had never happened at all. Elara¡¯s brows furrowed, her lips parting as though she wanted to say something more, but for the first time in a long while¡ªshe didn¡¯t have an answer. Finally, she exhaled, rubbing the bridge of her nose before muttering, "Miraculous." She turned briskly, her lab coat billowing slightly as she made her way toward the exit. "Discharge him. He has no reason to stay in my hospital." Roy, still trying to process what just happened, blinked before quickly stepping forward. "Doc, does that mean we can take him home today?" Without stopping, Elara waved a dismissive hand. "Yes. And don¡¯t forget to settle my payment." She exited the room as quickly as she had arrived, the heels of her boots clicking against the floor with unwavering confidence, as though she had already decided not to waste another second pondering the impossible. Not even to speak with the parents. ¡ª A heavy sigh filled the room as the tension bled away. Roy let out a breath he didn¡¯t realize he was holding before shaking his head, a small chuckle escaping him. "Man, she really doesn¡¯t care about anything except results, huh?" Varek, still trying to process everything, turned to Roy, his voice laced with deep, unshakable gratitude. "Roy, thank you." His throat tightened slightly. "Without your help, I don¡¯t know what we would have done." Racheal stepped forward, her eyes shimmering with emotion as she and Varek both made to bow. "Truly, we owe you more than we can ever repay¡ª" But Roy moved before they could. He caught them both by the shoulders, straightening them up before they could even attempt such a thing. His voice was firm but warm. "Come on, pops. Don¡¯t say that." He smiled, shaking his head. "He¡¯s my brother. And you guys are my family. There was never a question. This is nothing compared to his life." The words settled over the room like a comforting embrace. Denwen, still lying in bed, listened quietly, his eyes flickering with something unreadable. He was alive. But as he clenched his fists beneath the sheets, he couldn¡¯t shake the lingering chill in his bones. Promise Between Friends Two days had passed since the incident. The sun hung lazily in the sky, casting a golden hue over the calm lake. It was a rare sight in Pyronis, a land of brutal heat and unpredictable storms, but thanks to the advanced terraforming technology of Mechavaris, this oasis of serenity existed. A place where nature thrived amidst the harsh environment. Denwen lay on the soft green grass, his arms folded behind his head, staring at the swans and ducks gliding effortlessly across the lake¡¯s surface. The gentle rustling of leaves in the cool breeze, the soft quacking of the ducks, and the occasional laughter of families around them painted a picture of absolute tranquility. It was peaceful. At least, it was¡ªuntil Roy disrupted it. Plop. Plop. Plop. Denwen¡¯s left eye twitched as small ripples scattered across the water. Roy stood by the edge, casually skipping rocks across the surface with a boyish grin, completely disregarding the calmness Denwen cherished. "Come on, bro, are you a kid?" Denwen groaned, rolling onto his side. Roy, ignoring the complaint, hurled another rock. "I still don¡¯t get why you love coming here. It¡¯s just some water and birds. No action. No excitement. This place is boring as hell." Denwen sighed, rubbing his forehead as though speaking to a hopeless case. "If only that muscle-brain of yours could calm down and appreciate tranquility, the world would be a better place." He sat up, observing a mother duck shielding her ducklings from Roy¡¯s disturbances, gently guiding them away. Meanwhile, a particular swan had stopped its graceful drifting and turned its head toward Roy, its beady black eyes narrowing in on the source of the disruption. A smirk crept onto Denwen¡¯s lips as he leaned back. "You know, when a system is in perfect order and an element of chaos disrupts it¡­ the system fights back." Roy gave him a weird look. "Huh? And what¡¯s that got to do with¡ª" He didn¡¯t get to finish. With a loud screech, the swan flapped its wings aggressively and shot toward him like a vengeful guardian of the lake. "OH SHIT!" Roy barely had time to react before the swan, followed by two equally furious ducks, launched a relentless assault. The once peaceful lakeside turned into absolute chaos as he flailed, ducked, and dodged their pecking strikes. Children laughed hysterically, their parents chuckling at the spectacle of a grown boy getting chased by birds. "Denwen, help me!" Roy screamed as he sprinted in wild circles, waving his arms like a madman. Denwen simply watched with mild amusement. "This is the price of ignorance, my dear friend," he mused as if narrating a tragic tale. Realizing he wouldn¡¯t get help, Roy made a desperate decision¡ªhe ran full speed toward the nearest tree and leaped onto a low-hanging branch, scrambling up with surprising agility. The birds hopped and flapped below, squawking in frustration, but their vengeance had limits. Now safely perched, Roy peeked down, his chest heaving. "Ha! Try and get me now, you damn pigeons!" he taunted. Denwen sighed and facepalmed. "You just had to provoke them more." After a few minutes, Denwen approached the agitated birds, kneeling as he extended his hand. He murmured something softly while sprinkling some seeds from his pocket. The birds hesitated before slowly calming down, their aggressive posture easing as they returned to the lake. Roy cautiously climbed down, dusting himself off. "I swear, birds have it out for me." Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. "Or maybe," Denwen smirked, "you¡¯re just an idiot." They both chuckled. ¡ª--- Beneath the Setting Sun. As the sun dipped toward the horizon, casting a brilliant orange and purple glow across the sky, Denwen sat under a large tree, his gaze locked onto the lake¡¯s rippling surface. "I was really out for three whole days, huh?" His voice was quiet, almost lost in the breeze. Roy, reclining against the same tree with his hands behind his head, turned to him. "You really don¡¯t have to talk about it, Den." Denwen exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "I know. But after everything, I still got a D grade. A fucking D. And I don¡¯t even understand how. One moment I was A-grade¡­ then suddenly, I wasn¡¯t. Just like that." His hands clenched into fists, pulling at the grass beneath him. Roy sighed and moved closer, resting a firm hand on his shoulder. "Bro, I know how much it meant to you. Everyone thought you¡¯d awaken as an A-grade. We all did. But fate has a cruel sense of humor. Some things are just out of our control." Denwen shut his eyes, his fingers trembling. "Control¡­" His voice carried a weight that made Roy pause. "I swore to myself that I would never feel this way again. That I wouldn¡¯t be powerless. That I wouldn¡¯t let my past haunt me. But here I am. A failure." His voice cracked, his breath uneven. "How am I supposed to keep moving forward when I already lost before I even began?" Silence. Roy clenched his jaw, his usual carefree demeanor faltering. He had never seen Denwen this vulnerable. He wasn¡¯t sure what to say¡ªcomforting words weren¡¯t really his thing. But if there was one thing he knew, it was that Denwen wasn¡¯t alone. "I won¡¯t pretend to understand how you feel," Roy admitted, his voice steady. "But listen to me, Den. I¡¯m here. I¡¯ll be your sword. If you ever need me to strike down your enemies, I¡¯ll be there. No matter what. Even if it means traveling across continents, I¡¯ll be right beside you." Denwen turned to him, eyes wide. There was no teasing in Roy¡¯s expression. No arrogance. No playful smirk. Just pure, unwavering loyalty. Denwen stared at him for a long moment before letting out a soft chuckle. "Look at you. Sounding all high and mighty like a prince rescuing the poor damsel in distress." Roy rolled his eyes. "Shut up." Denwen shook his head, his lips curving into a smirk before he stood up. He stared at his hands, slowly clenching them. "I appreciate what you said, really. But I won¡¯t need a sword to fight for me. I¡¯ll carve my own path. With my own hands." His eyes burned with determination, the raw pain in them hardening into something stronger. "Whether I¡¯m A-grade or D-grade, I¡¯ll work harder than anyone. If I can¡¯t catch up in rank, then I¡¯ll make my body evolve beyond its limits. I refuse to be left behind." His voice rang with finality, a vow etched into his soul. Roy smirked and stretched out his right fist toward him. "Then don¡¯t disappoint me. I¡¯ll keep moving forward. If you fall behind, that¡¯s on you." Denwen stared at the outstretched fist for a moment before returning it with his own. Their fists met with a solid thump, sealing their promise. "We¡¯ll stand at the pinnacle together," Denwen declared. Roy grinned. "Damn right we will." As the last rays of sunlight faded beyond the horizon, the two boys stood side by side. Their paths uncertain, their challenges far from over. But in this moment, they had each other. And that was enough. New Life A month had passed since the awakening ceremony, and the students who had successfully awakened were now returning for the new semester. The academy, nestled in the heart of Pyronis, was an architectural marvel¡ªa fusion of dwarven craftsmanship and advanced technology. Towering stone structures lined the campus, their surfaces etched with intricate carvings and glowing runes, reinforcing them against the region¡¯s harsh conditions. Enchanted archways stretched high above the students, their ancient symbols pulsing with faint energy. Roaming through the grounds were mechanical constructs, designed by Mechavaris engineers, assisting staff with luggage, maintenance, and security. For the next three years, all awakened students were required to live on campus. Their education would shift from standard academics to rigorous combat training and mastery of essence. Parents gathered in the drop-off zones, some lingering with parting words, while others left their children with quiet pride. Among the students, friendships were rekindled, and alliances were already forming. Then, a sudden outburst cut through the crowd. ¡°Oh my god, is that Roy Clifford?!¡± Excitement spread like wildfire, turning heads toward the academy¡¯s entrance. ¡°Damn, he¡¯s even better looking in person!¡± ¡°I can¡¯t believe we¡¯re in the same school as him!¡± A growing crowd swarmed toward a tall, blond-haired boy stepping off a sleek hover bike, his helmet tucked under his arm. Roy Clifford, the academy¡¯s only A-grade awakener, had become a celebrity overnight. His golden Soul Key was the kind of rarity that made legends, and now, every student wanted to be associated with him. Beside him, Denwen hopped off his own bike, watching the spectacle unfold. He leaned slightly toward Roy. "Looks like someone got himself a fan club." Roy sighed, already dodging students attempting to take pictures. ¡°You think this is funny? It was cool at first, but now it¡¯s exhausting.¡± He ran a hand through his hair. ¡°I swear, I might have to start wearing a disguise.¡± Then, he gave Denwen a sidelong glance. ¡°Honestly, I wish I was more like you.¡± Denwen raised an eyebrow. ¡°And what¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡± "What? You¡¯re basically invisible." Roy flashed a smirk. Denwen rolled his eyes, but before he could respond, an authoritative voice cut through the noise. "Alright, enough gawking. Move along, you¡¯ll have plenty of time to mingle later." It was Zara, one of the academy¡¯s instructors. Dressed in a crimson-trimmed uniform, her sharp gaze swept over the students. She stood flanked by other teachers, their presence alone enough to restore order. "You should be focusing on your training, not crowding around a single student," she added before turning and leading them inside. ¡ª- After escaping the commotion, Roy and Denwen headed toward the administration block to sort out their dorm assignments. They hadn¡¯t gone far before a familiar voice called out. ¡°Roy, enjoying the attention?¡± Mellissa stood in their path, arms crossed, smirking as she looked him over. Roy chuckled, flipping his hair dramatically. ¡°With a face like this? It¡¯s inevitable.¡± He placed a hand over his chest, flashing a cocky grin. ¡°But what¡¯s more surprising is you coming up to me first. You had your chance, Mellissa, but now? The line¡¯s long.¡± Mellissa rolled her eyes. ¡°Yeah, keep dreaming.¡± Then, her gaze shifted to Denwen. Amusement flickered across her face as she stepped closer. "You know, Roy, a little advice?" She leaned in slightly. ¡°You should really consider letting go of certain burdens.¡± Denwen remained indifferent. Roy, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow. "Bro, I think she just called you a burden," Roy said, bumping Denwen¡¯s shoulder. "Yeah, she did," Denwen replied casually. Roy blinked. "And you''re just gonna let that slide?" Denwen smirked. "Tell me, do you think I¡¯m a burden?" Roy frowned slightly. "No. Why would you even ask that?" If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Denwen shrugged. "Then why should I care what she says?" Mellissa scoffed when she didn¡¯t get the reaction she wanted. ¡°Tch. Whatever.¡± With that, she turned and walked off. Roy let out a low whistle. "Damn, she really tried to get under your skin." Denwen stretched. "She¡¯s just a troublemaker. Not worth my time." Then, without warning, he picked up his pace. "Oi, what¡¯s up?" Roy asked. "If we don¡¯t hurry, all the good dorm rooms will be taken." Roy blinked, then cursed. "Shit, you¡¯re right! Move your ass, Den!" ¡ª- The academy¡¯s male dormitory was a fortress in its own right. Crafted from essence-infused stone by master dwarven artisans, it stood as an imposing structure, its entrance guarded by two automated constructs with glowing mechanical eyes. The massive gear-operated doors rumbled open, revealing a vast interior. The dorm was unlike anything found in an ordinary school. Moving staircases connected multiple levels, hallways branched off into training grounds, recreation areas, and living quarters. Everything was designed with one philosophy in mind¡ªonly the strong thrived here. Unlike other institutions, room selection wasn¡¯t based on rank or status. Instead, strength dictated everything. If a student wanted a better room, they could challenge the current occupant for it¡ªa tradition that had been upheld for generations. The only exception was Roy, whose A-grade status had granted him a private suite at the top of the building. For now, the best rooms had been assigned to the most outstanding students from the awakening ceremony. The rest were first come, first served. This order would last for a week before challenges could begin, ensuring a fair starting ground for everyone. ¡ª-- As Roy and Denwen stepped into the main hall, the air buzzed with excitement. Groups of boys had already started settling in, discussing training plans and scouting for potential targets to challenge. However, the moment Roy entered, the noise died down. Whispers spread instantly. ¡°That¡¯s Roy Clifford.¡± ¡°The only A-grade in the entire academy.¡± ¡°I heard his Soul Key was pure gold.¡± A small group approached, led by a tall, brown-haired boy. "Hey, Roy. Name¡¯s Jared," he said. His tone was friendly but curious. "So, what¡¯s it like being an A-grade?" Roy smirked, leaning against the wall. ¡°You want the truth?¡± They all nodded. "It¡¯s suffocating as hell." A few students exchanged confused looks. "What do you mean?" Roy sighed. ¡°Before I awakened, life was simple. Now?¡± He gestured vaguely at the lingering crowd. "I can¡¯t take five steps without someone treating me like an exhibit. Everyone either wants to challenge me, befriend me, or study me like some damn experiment.¡± Jared chuckled. ¡°Never thought an A-grade would complain about attention.¡± Roy shot him a look. "Try dealing with screaming fans every morning and see how you feel." Laughter broke the tension, but before it could settle, a voice cut through the lobby silencing the crowd. ¡°Tch. Look at this.¡± Denwen didn¡¯t need to turn to know who it was. Angus stood near the entrance, arms crossed, his gaze locked onto Denwen. His uniform was slightly disheveled, and his smirk carried nothing but contempt. "All these people are crowding around Roy, but no one gives a damn about the loser next to him." Silence reigned as he approached slowly like a predator approaching it¡¯s prey/. Denwen remained unreadable, hands in his pockets. "Didn¡¯t realize I needed to feel anything about it," he said flatly. Angus scoffed. "Still pretending, huh? Must be exhausting, acting like you don¡¯t care." Roy stepped forward. His usual laid-back demeanor vanished. "Enough." Angus faltered slightly careful about his actions towards Roy. Roy¡¯s blue eyes sharpened. "If you want a fight, challenge him properly. Otherwise, shut the hell up." The room tensed. Everyone knew the rules. Angus hesitated. Then, with a click of his tongue, he turned and walked away. Denwen watched him go. "Coward." Room A Denwen moved toward the back corner of the classroom, weaving through the bustling students, all eager to claim their preferred seats. He deliberately distanced himself from Roy, not because of any ill will, but simply to avoid the extra attention that came with being close to the Academy¡¯s newest golden prodigy. Right now, the last thing he wanted was to be dragged into the whispers and comparisons that followed Roy wherever he went. The classroom was chaotic, as expected on the first day. Students shuffled around, chatting loudly, exchanging greetings, and scouting potential rivals or allies. This year¡¯s intake consisted of over one hundred and fifty students, the twenty from the awakening and the rest from various parts of the continent who attended other academies. Each batch is split into three primary classes called rooms¡ªA, B, and C, each with around fifty students. Class A wasn¡¯t exclusive to A-rank talents¡ªit had a mix of all talent grades, fostering competition, but was mainly occupied by those from the awakening ceremony. Class B followed the same pattern, though its students were generally those from other continents and the students whose aptitude for mana either through theory or talent weren¡¯t up to those in class A. Class C was often viewed as the bottom tier, It was mostly filled with E ranks and D ranks as their skills would be applied into other aspects Each of these classes was further divided this way to ensure that even the lower-ranked students had opportunities to grow and apply their skills in other areas. These groups would train, study, and undertake missions together, forming the core of their learning experience. ¡ª- Denwen had just settled into his seat when a voice snapped him from his thoughts. ¡°Hey.¡± He turned, recognizing the voice before even looking up. Standing beside him was Kara, her arms crossed, eyes locked onto him with an unreadable expression. But the tension in her stance, the sharpness in her gaze¡ªit was clear she wasn¡¯t here for casual pleasantries. For a moment, Denwen allowed a small smile to tug at his lips, but it quickly faltered when he noticed she wasn¡¯t smiling back. Instead, there was a storm brewing in her eyes. "Hey, Kara. Long time no see," he said, forcing a casual tone, avoiding direct eye contact as he glanced toward the window. Kara took a slow, deliberate breath. "Yeah. Long. Time. No. See." She enunciated each word separately, her voice laced with controlled irritation. Denwen resisted the urge to wince, choosing instead to glance outside, whistling as if the conversation wasn¡¯t happening. She sighed, crossing her arms tighter. "You know what? I''m not even going to bother." Denwen¡¯s brows furrowed slightly, but before he could ask what she meant, she continued. "Ghosting me? Not returning my calls? Leaving my messages on read?" Her voice was steady, but the frustration was evident. "I should¡¯ve known better than to think you¡¯d change." There was no malice in her words¡ªonly a quiet disappointment, the kind that stung far more than anger. Denwen opened his mouth, then closed it, exhaling through his nose. She wasn¡¯t wrong. Kara scoffed softly. "I only blame myself for being a good friend." She turned on her heel, ready to walk away, when suddenly, she felt a hand gently grasp her wrist. She stopped. A tense silence lingered between them before she sharply turned her head, her voice almost biting. "What?" Denwen hesitated but didn¡¯t let go. His grip wasn¡¯t forceful¡ªjust firm enough to keep her from leaving. "Thanks." Kara blinked. "For what?" Denwen exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. "For everything." He met her gaze then, just for a moment, and something in his eyes made her pause. There was no defensiveness, no excuses¡ªjust raw honesty. For the briefest second, her resolve wavered. Then, before she could decide how to respond, the sound of the classroom door opening pulled everyone¡¯s attention away. The heavy wooden doors at the front of the room swung open, and Kael Durnham stepped inside. The moment he entered, the noise died instantly. There was no need for him to demand silence. His mere presence commanded it. Tall and lean, his build wasn¡¯t overly muscular, but there was an unmistakable strength in the way he carried himself. He wore the academy¡¯s standard instructor uniform¡ªblack with crimson accents¡ªbut on him, it looked more like a warrior¡¯s battle attire than a simple school outfit. His dark brown hair was slightly unkempt, yet it didn¡¯t diminish his sharp features. But what stood out the most were his eyes¡ªpiercing, calculating, as if they could strip away every layer of a person¡¯s facade in seconds. He didn¡¯t need to introduce himself for the students to know he was someone to be feared and respected. He slowly stepped forward, his boots clicking against the stone floor, his gaze sweeping across the room like a predator scanning for weaknesses. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. Then, finally, he spoke. ¡°Settle down, everyone.¡± His voice was deep, steady, carrying an effortless authority that left no room for disobedience. "You can call me Kael Durnham. Welcome to room A, I''ll be your Room Instructor from today until you either graduate¡­ or fail." A heavy silence fell upon the students. His lips curled into something resembling a smirk. "That is¡­ if you make it that far." ¡ª- Kael Durnham let his words settle, his sharp gaze sweeping across the room. Some students looked excited, others nervous, and a few¡ªlike Roy¡ªremained completely composed. Satisfied with their silence, he raised his right hand, and with a simple flick of his fingers, a holographic display materialized in the air. The glowing projection showcased a structured breakdown of the Academy¡¯s curriculum, detailing the core subjects and their respective requirements. "You all who have made it into this room are talented in one way or another," he stated, his voice even but firm. "Our goal here is not just to nurture that talent, but to refine you into something greater." He paused, then turned slightly, his gaze lingering on Roy for the briefest second before offering a slight nod. "Obviously, we have individuals who are truly exceptional due to raw talent." A quiet murmur rippled through the class, as some students glanced toward Roy, who remained stoic. Kael ignored the reaction and clasped his hands behind his back, pacing slowly. "But talent alone is never enough." He stopped and snapped his fingers, causing the hologram to shift. A new section appeared, listing three key criteria required to maintain one¡¯s position in this elite room: Academic Performance in Theory & its Application Combat Proficiency in Spell Casting, Martial & Weapon Arts Essence and Mana Mastery "First and foremost, understand this: being here grants you privileges¡ªaccess to better resources than other rooms. But," he paused, "those privileges must be earned." His golden-brown eyes gleamed sharply as he took a step forward, his posture commanding absolute attention. Kael extended a hand, and the hologram expanded, separating into two distinct sections: Theory and Practical Training. "We will have two theory classes each week," he began. "These will focus on history, strategy, and essence control. While some of you might think theory is a waste of time"¡ªhe let his gaze linger on a few students already shifting in their seats¡ª"I assure you, knowing the intricacies of aura manipulation, battlefield positioning, and even the history of combat techniques will give you an edge." Some students nodded, while others still seemed unconvinced. Kael didn''t press further. Instead, he gestured towards the second section, and the atmosphere in the room visibly changed. "Now, what most of you have been waiting for¡ªpractical training." The hologram shifted, showing images of warriors in various combat stances, wielding different weapons, some barehanded, others channeling essence into their strikes. Some that could be seen as mages casting great spells on battlefields. "We will hold three practical sessions per week, where you will train under different instructors." Combat Training: Introduction to martial and weapon arts, each being an elective you can specialize in¡ªor, if you¡¯re daring enough, you may choose them all. The moment he said that, a few students grinned, already imagining themselves wielding swords or clashing in sparring duels. Kael smirked slightly at their eagerness before continuing. Essence and Mana Control: Learning the proper methods of absorbing essence from cores and other resources, refining it within your own core, and ultimately expanding it to breakthrough to higher ranks. At this, he raised both hands, palms facing each other, and within seconds, a small sphere of golden essence appeared between them, spinning slowly in the air. The class fell into hushed silence, mesmerized by the way the energy seemed to pulse with life. "Essence control," he said, his voice lower but more intense, "is what separates a true cultivator from a reckless brawler. You will learn how to channel essence from your core, move it through your body efficiently, and ultimately use it to refine your core itself." He closed his hands, and the golden sphere compressed before suddenly vanishing with a sharp flicker. Some students flinched, others looked fascinated, and a few¡ªlike Denwen¡ªnarrowed their eyes, absorbing every detail. Kael allowed the silence to stretch, ensuring his words left an impact before speaking again. "Without proper control, raw strength means nothing. Without discipline, talent fades. Without knowledge, power is wasted." He clasped his hands behind his back again, surveying the room. "You are here to build yourselves into warriors, scholars, and cultivators of the highest caliber. If you cannot keep up, you will be left behind." He let the weight of those words sink in before his expression shifted slightly. "Now¡­ any questions?" Resources and Rewards ¡°Sir, what sort of resources should we be expecting¡± an eager student asked. ¡°Hmm, it depends honestly¡± Kael said, flicking his wrists showing a list of various mouth watering resources that ranged from herbs, to skills to artifacts. The classroom instantly became livelier as the students took in the list of available resources. Holographic images floated mid-air, displaying intricate descriptions of various herbs, skills, and artifacts. Some students leaned in, whispering excitedly among themselves, while others outright exclaimed at the rarities present. ¡°Wait, is that the Verdant Dewleaf? That stuff can accelerate mana recovery!¡± one student gasped, pointing at the flickering image of a lush green leaf with dewdrops clinging to its surface. ¡°Nah, look at that¡ªIronwood Vine,¡± another cut in, his eyes gleaming. ¡°If I can get my hands on some, my bones will get sturdier. That¡¯ll be huge for close combat.¡± ¡°Are my eyes playing tricks on me, or is that the Silent Step skill?¡± a student towards the back muttered. He swiped at the holographic catalog, enlarging the section that detailed its effects. ¡°This thing lets you move without making a sound. It¡¯s perfect for assassins!¡± A few rows away, someone practically jumped out of their seat. ¡°Holy shit! Even the Phoenix Feather Pendant is on this list?¡± His voice carried disbelief, causing several students to whip their heads in his direction. ¡°That thing stores a single-use revival essence. If you die, it can heal you right before your soul fades!¡± ¡°That¡¯s gotta be reserved for the elites,¡± another student scoffed. ¡°No way they¡¯re just handing that out to rookies like us.¡± Denwen sat back, his gaze calmly sweeping over the floating lists. Unlike the others, who were bursting with excitement, he simply studied the details with an analytical eye. He could already tell that while these resources were impressive, they were likely entry-level rewards. The academy was bound to have even greater treasures hidden away¡ªthings they wouldn¡¯t just hand over to first-years. ¡°The academy sure is generous,¡± he mused inwardly. ¡°But if they¡¯re willing to give us access to these, it means there¡¯s an even higher level of resources being kept for the truly exceptional. I need to figure out what the requirements are to gain access to those.¡± Kael allowed the students a few more moments to take in the catalogue before he made a sharp flick of his wrist, causing the holographic display to vanish. ¡°Now that you¡¯ve had a look, you can see that the school is deeply invested in your growth,¡± he said, his voice cutting through the chatter. ¡°As a starting incentive, every week, each and every one of you will receive an allowance of ten Rank One essence cores.¡± A ripple of shock went through the room. The excitement that had momentarily settled now exploded into full-blown euphoria. ¡°No way!¡± ¡°Ten essence cores per week? Just for being here?¡± Joy spread across the class. Some students exchanged glances, grinning from ear to ear, while others clenched their fists in exhilaration. For many, this was the exact reason they had fought so hard to enter the academy. ¡°As you all know,¡± Kael continued, his expression remaining calm despite the growing enthusiasm, ¡°essence cores, harvested from defeated monsters, are among the most valuable resources an awakened can possess. To an awakened, they are more precious than gold. A single Rank One essence core can be sold for as high as twenty silvers. That¡¯s more than what an average mortal family makes in a month.¡± Silence fell over the class as reality sank in. ¡°Damn¡­ just by staying here and cultivating, we¡¯ll be wealthier than most people out there,¡± a student muttered, rubbing his temples as if trying to process the implications. ¡°But who the hell would sell theirs?¡± another scoffed. ¡°Strength is worth more than money. With enough cores, we can advance faster!¡± A girl at the front turned toward him. ¡°Not everyone thinks that way. If someone¡¯s struggling to progress, selling their cores to get better gear or rare pills might be a smarter move.¡± Kael nodded approvingly. ¡°Indeed. How you use your resources is up to you. You can consume them to empower yourself or trade them for other essentials. But remember¡ªstrength is only one path to true success. Influence, knowledge, and strategic investments can sometimes outweigh raw power.¡± ¡ª- Kael¡¯s voice rang out, steady and unwavering. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. ¡°To remain in Room A by the end of the semester, you must reach Middle-stage Rank 1. Fail to do so, and you will be reassigned to a lower-ranked room.¡± The announcement sent ripples through the class. A semester lasted only three months, and in that short span, they were expected to progress rapidly¡ªor risk losing their spot. Some students exchanged confident smirks, certain their talent would carry them through, while others sat in silence, already feeling the weight of the challenge. Denwen clenched his fists slightly. He didn¡¯t have the luxury of confidence. ¡°Looks like some people here aren¡¯t deserving of this class after all,¡± Angus¡¯ voice carried across the room, smooth and mocking. Denwen didn¡¯t react, but the subtle shift of gazes toward him made it clear who Angus was targeting. A few chuckles broke out, but most students simply ignored it. They all knew the reality¡ªD-grade talents didn¡¯t belong in Room A. The pressure in the room was suffocating for some. Denwen wasn¡¯t the only one concerned. There were a few other students with D-grade talent, their expressions tight with worry. They had made it here because of their skills in other fields, but cultivation was the core of everything. If they couldn¡¯t meet the requirement, no amount of intelligence or combat ability would save them. Kael didn¡¯t acknowledge the tension in the room. He simply continued, his voice firm and unshaken. ¡°This academy does not tolerate stagnation. We expect you to maximize your talents, whatever they may be. If you lack the ability to meet the standard, you will be moved accordingly.¡± It was a cold but fair system. No favoritism, no exceptions¡ªonly results. Then, just as the weight of his words settled over them, Kael¡¯s tone shifted slightly. ¡°Now, let¡¯s move on to something more interesting.¡± He flicked his wrist, and a holographic projection appeared in the air. The moment the text displayed, the atmosphere in the room shifted. Class President Weekly Allowance: 30 Rank 1 Essence Cores A wave of shock swept through the students. Thirty essence cores¡ªtriple the standard allowance. Excitement spread like wildfire. Some students instantly straightened in their seats, their eyes burning with ambition. Thirty essence cores could mean the difference between an early breakthrough or stagnation. Denwen exhaled slowly. He wasn¡¯t excited like the others, but even he couldn¡¯t ignore the implications. This school wasn¡¯t just about learning¡ªit was about survival. Just as the students begin murmuring about the massive allowance, Kael raises a hand, silencing them with a smirk. ¡°Oh, I forgot to mention¡ªthere won¡¯t be an election.¡± The statement cuts through the excitement like a blade. Confused whispers ripple through the room. Some students exchange glances, their excitement now tinged with uncertainty. Then, with a flick of his wrist, the atmosphere shifts. The floor beneath them trembles. The walls hum with energy. A deep, resonating vibration spreads across the room, and before anyone can react, an arena materialized before their eyes¡ª a center large square platform with the insignia of the school inscribed on it. The once orderly classroom is gone, the seats they were once sitting on now resting at the outer edges, transformed into an elevated viewing platform. A sharp inhale from one student breaks the silence. ¡°The position of Class President isn¡¯t given¡ªit¡¯s earned.¡± Kael¡¯s voice is calm, unwavering. Then, with a simple gesture toward the arena, he delivers the final command. ¡°Step into the arena. If you dare and make your challenge¡± A few students go pale. Others straighten, their hands instinctively folding into a fists. A handful exchange eager grins, already prepared for the battle ahead. Denwen remains motionless. His fingers twitch slightly at his side, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. A fight? Already? He barely has a grasp on his new circumstances, and now they¡¯re expected to battle for leadership? Everything was moving too fast. Roy exhaled slowly, a grin climbing up his face: ¡°How exciting can this get¡± The students hesitated, glancing around as if waiting for someone else to make the first move. Then Kael spoke again¡ªhis tone softer, but somehow more chilling than before. ¡°If you¡¯re too weak to fight for leadership, then you¡¯re too weak to remain in Room A.¡± The statement lingers, cutting deeper than any blade. For a moment, no one moves. Then¡ª A single step echoes in the silent arena. Someone had made their decision. First on the Throne The rankings were settled swiftly and mercilessly. In the arena, where the raw energy of their awakening still pulsed through their veins, it became clear¡ªbattle experience was scarce, and instincts were still dull. The combat was nothing more than a test of endurance and raw physicality. And in that aspect, Denwen reigned supreme. A montage of domination unfolded. The first opponent barely lasted a breath. Denwen ducked under a wild punch, stepped forward, and drove his fist into the boy¡¯s gut. The force lifted the poor kid off his feet before he crumpled like a discarded ragdoll. The next tried a more cautious approach, circling Denwen, waiting for an opening. He lunged. Denwen sidestepped with unnatural speed, grabbed the boy¡¯s arm, and yanked him forward¡ªkneeing him straight in the ribs. A wheezing gasp. One strike, one victory. Three down. Four down. Five. Each opponent fell faster than the last. A well-built girl attempted to take advantage of his momentary lapse between fights. Denwen caught her leg mid-kick, twisted his body, and slammed her to the ground with bone-rattling force. A massive guy, nearly as broad as an ox, thought he could overpower him. Denwen met him head-on. Their fists collided, but while the big guy staggered back, Denwen remained unshaken. The exchange had lasted a mere second¡ªbefore the larger teen could even register what had happened, Denwen had slammed his elbow into his chest, driving him into the dirt. The matches blurred together in an overwhelming onslaught of dominance. One after another, they fell. By the time Roy stepped forward, the dust had barely settled. Roy rolled his shoulders, cracking his knuckles as he met Denwen¡¯s eyes with a competitive grin. ¡°You¡¯re a menace, you know that?¡± Denwen smirked. ¡°Don¡¯t hold back.¡± Their fight was different. Unlike the others, Roy was fast. He weaved, dodged, struck with precision. His movements were sharper, his instincts more refined. He was A-grade for a reason. And yet¡ª Roy dashed forward, throwing a feint before twisting into a real strike. Denwen didn¡¯t even flinch. He sidestepped, shifting his weight ever so slightly before launching his fist forward¡ªstraight into Roy¡¯s chest. A brutal impact. Roy¡¯s eyes widened, his breath stolen in an instant. He staggered back, clutching his ribs. The force was undeniable. Silence. Then¡ª Roy let out a breathless chuckle. ¡°Come on, bro. You couldn¡¯t have gone easier on me?¡± He reached out, grabbing Denwen¡¯s outstretched hand as he let the laughter spill from his lips. Denwen¡¯s smirk deepened. ¡°Why would I go easy on you of all people?¡± Roy¡¯s laughter roared through the battlefield. ¡°Nice one,¡± he said, shaking his head. ¡°Just know that this will be the last time. Next week¡ªI¡¯m coming for your throne.¡± The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. The moment those words left his mouth, a chime echoed from their wrist devices. A list flashed before them, revealing their official rankings. 1st - Denwen 2nd - Roy 3rd - Jay ... 10th - Angus A muscle twitched in Angus¡¯ jaw as he stared at the results. His grip on his wrist device tightened, his teeth clenching. ¡°Damn it,¡± he muttered under his breath, his eyes locked onto Denwen. ¡°Even with better talent, I still came tenth. What the hell is he eating?¡± His fingers curled into fists. ¡°Just you wait.¡± He wasn¡¯t alone in that thought. Many of the C-grades exchanged uneasy glances, their pride wounded. A D-grade stood above them all. It wasn¡¯t a title they could accept. Even Roy, for all his good nature, felt the sting. Denwen knew it wouldn¡¯t last. That was why he fought now. While he still had the advantage. Because the day would come when talent and potential would catch up. When those with greater gifts would surpass him. But until then¡ª He would take everything he could from this position. The class president could be challenged once a week. If they lost twice in a row, they would be replaced. A single forfeit counted as a loss. Denwen glanced down at his wrist device, reading his name at the top. One week. That¡¯s how long his reign would last¡ªunless he could keep it. ¡°Well done champ¡± Kara bumped into him knocking him back into consciousness. ¡°Thanks, I didn¡¯t see you fight anyone tho¡± he asked ¡°Well I¡¯m not a brute like you all, I would rather enjoy my forty fifth position for now while I begin cultivating. In a few weeks, don¡¯t think even you would be my match¡± she said crossing her arms. ¡ª- "Alright, guys, settle down," Kael¡¯s voice cut through the lingering tension. With a flick of his wrist, the shimmering battlefield dissolved, the energy retracting as the familiar wooden floors and sturdy desks of their classroom returned. The students exhaled, some in relief, others in frustration. Their rankings had been etched into their devices¡ªan undeniable truth. "You should all see your placements now," Kael continued, his tone steady. "And if you check the resource tab, you¡¯ll find your weekly essence core allowance." A brief pause. Then chaos. Excited murmurs erupted across the room as students hurriedly checked their wrist devices. Some gasped, others stared in disbelief. To many, this was the greatest wealth they had ever possessed. A few students clutched their devices like prized treasures, already fantasizing about the techniques they would buy, the breakthroughs they would attempt, the power they could finally grasp. But amidst the excitement, a voice cut through¡ªloud, sharp, venomous. ¡°Yo, Class President.¡± The energy in the room shifted. Denwen¡¯s gaze flicked up, locking onto Angus. The boy¡¯s smirk was thin, forced, the sharp glint in his eyes betraying his frustration. The weight of tenth place hung on him like a curse. ¡°Thirty essence cores, huh? Must be a damn waste on you.¡± Angus leaned back against his desk, arms crossed. "How about you hand ¡®em over to someone who can actually put them to good use?" A few students froze, others shot glances between Denwen and Angus, envy flickering behind their eyes. Thirty cores. Three times what all of them had received. For someone ranked below them, it was a bitter pill to swallow. Denwen remained silent, his expression unreadable. Then¡ª ¡°That¡¯s wild coming from number ten, though.¡± Roy¡¯s voice cut through like a blade, effortless yet lethal. The tension snapped. Laughter rippled through the classroom as Angus¡¯s expression twitched. His fists clenched, but he said nothing. Kael, still lingering by the door, let out a small chuckle before shaking his head. "Use them wisely," he reminded them before stepping out. Just as the students were about to leave, the door swung open once more. A tall, stern-looking upperclassman stepped inside, his uniform marked with an insignia that immediately silenced the room. His piercing gaze swept across the students before settling on Roy. ¡°The Principal wants to see you.¡± Silence. A few students exchanged glances. Roy¡¯s expression barely shifted, but Denwen caught the slight furrow in his brows before he stood up, exhaling through his nose. ¡°Guess I didn¡¯t have that much of a break,¡± he muttered under his breath, flashing Denwen a smirk before walking toward the upperclassman. As the door shut behind them, the classroom¡¯s atmosphere shifted. The moment of levity was gone. Denwen watched the closed door for a second longer than necessary. True Rankings The past few weeks had been a whirlwind of change. Denwen had held the number one rank for only two weeks before Roy dethroned him in a clean victory. Now, Denwen sat at rank three, just behind Angus. But he didn¡¯t mind¡ªhe understood his limits. Unlike them, he couldn¡¯t channel his essence externally. His physical body, still unrefined by true essence cultivation, simply wasn¡¯t strong enough to withstand the empowered blows of awakened warriors who could. Essence channeling. It was the foundation of combat at Rank 1¡ªthe ability to circulate essence through the body, enhancing speed, strength, and durability. More advanced users could push it into weapons, creating explosive force in battle. But Denwen still hadn¡¯t fully circulated essence throughout his body, much less projected it outward. Angus had mastered it, allowing his wind-element essence to flow freely, boosting his speed to frightening levels. Melissa had succeeded in channeling essence into her body, enhancing her physical prowess. But as a fire mage, she struggled to convert it into mana to project spells, keeping her below the rankings. Even so, Denwen refused to feel discouraged. He simply needed another way forward. ¡ª That evening, as he leaned against the academy training hall¡¯s marble pillars, Roy suddenly appeared, grinning as he stretched out his hand. In his palm lay a green pendant, its surface shimmering under the dim light, intricate runes inscribed into its polished core. The faint pulse of essence energy radiated from it¡ªa relic meant to aid cultivation. Denwen¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Wait¡­ isn¡¯t this the Verdant Core Pendant?¡± He looked up in shock. ¡°The one you got as a test reward?¡± Roy smirked. ¡°Yeah. And I¡¯m giving it to you.¡± Denwen frowned, crossing his arms. ¡°You¡¯re joking, right? That thing boosts essence reserves by 25% and increases recovery speed by 20%. You¡¯re just handing it over?¡± Roy pushed the pendant against Denwen¡¯s chest insistently. ¡°What¡¯s the problem? I¡¯m an A-grade talent¡ªI don¡¯t need it. My essence recovers so fast I can just sit for thirty minutes, and I¡¯m back at full capacity. You need it way more than I do.¡± Denwen hesitated. The offer was tempting. The Verdant Core Pendant could help with his stagnation, but¡ª "You¡¯re already mid Rank 1, and now the principal has taken you under his wing. You¡¯ll be getting even better resources soon," Denwen pointed out. Roy shrugged. "Exactly. This thing is just a beginner¡¯s tool for me. But for you? It could change everything." Denwen exhaled, finally reaching out to take the pendant. He ran his fingers over the cool surface, feeling the subtle hum of stored essence within. ¡°¡­Well, I guess I¡¯d be dumb to refuse. The essence cores I use for cultivation barely work for me anyway¡ªmost of the energy just leaks away. But this¡­ this should actually help.¡± As he admired the pendant, Roy¡¯s expression darkened slightly. ¡°Just be careful.¡± Denwen glanced up. ¡°Huh?¡± Roy folded his arms. ¡°The Verdant Core Pendant is addictive. It makes channeling essence easier, but if you overuse it, your body will grow reliant on it. Once removed, your cultivation will slow down drastically¡ªmaybe even worsen.¡± Denwen chuckled, bumping Roy¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Look at you, getting all serious. It¡¯s weird.¡± Roy rolled his eyes, but before he could retort, Denwen continued, grinning. ¡°I already know that I can only use it for an hour a day, max. I should be the one warning you about it.¡± The two burst into laughter, the weight of the conversation lifting. ¡ª Just then, a playful voice cut through the air. ¡°Oh? Someone proposed?¡± Denwen¡¯s heart skipped a beat as he turned toward the voice. Kara. She approached with her usual air of confidence, her long raven-black hair swaying behind her. Her golden eyes gleamed with mischief, and her lips curved into a knowing smirk. Roy turned to Denwen, wiggling his brows teasingly. ¡°Yeah, bro, should I congratulate you?¡± Denwen scoffed, his face heating up slightly. ¡°Oh, shut up. It¡¯s not like that.¡± If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Kara crossed her arms, tilting her head slightly. ¡°Oh? Then explain why a guy is giving you a pendant.¡± Denwen opened his mouth, but before he could defend himself, Roy attempted to sneak away¡ªtiptoeing out of the conversation. Bad move. Kara noticed instantly. Without even looking, she reached back and grabbed the collar of his uniform, yanking him back effortlessly. ¡°ACK¡ª!¡± Roy gasped, his face turning a deep shade of purple as he struggled in her grip. Denwen chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. ¡°Alright, alright¡ªI owe you one. I promise.¡± He sighed dramatically. ¡°So please¡­ let him breathe?¡± Kara gave Denwen a long look, her eyes twinkling with amusement before she finally released Roy. Gasp! Roy stumbled forward, dramatically clutching his throat. ¡°I¡ªthought¡ªI was going to die.¡± Kara winked at Denwen before walking ahead, swaying her hips just enough to make him notice. Denwen exhaled, running a hand through his hair as he put the pendant in his back pocket. Roy, still recovering, nudged him. ¡°¡­Bro. You are so done for.¡± Denwen just smirked. ¡°We¡¯ll see.¡± The past few weeks had been a whirlwind of change. Denwen had held the number one rank for only two weeks before Roy dethroned him in a clean victory. Now, Denwen sat at rank three, just behind Angus. But he didn¡¯t mind¡ªhe understood his limits. Unlike them, he couldn¡¯t channel his essence externally. His physical body, still unrefined by true essence cultivation, simply wasn¡¯t strong enough to withstand the empowered blows of awakened warriors who could. Essence channeling. It was the foundation of combat at Rank 1¡ªthe ability to circulate essence through the body, enhancing speed, strength, and durability. More advanced users could push it into weapons, creating explosive force in battle. But Denwen still hadn¡¯t fully circulated essence throughout his body, much less projected it outward. Angus had mastered it, allowing his wind-element essence to flow freely, boosting his speed to frightening levels. Melissa had succeeded in channeling essence into her body, enhancing her physical prowess. But as a fire mage, she struggled to convert it into mana to project spells, keeping her below the rankings. Even so, Denwen refused to feel discouraged. He simply needed another way forward. ¡ª That evening, as he leaned against the academy training hall¡¯s marble pillars, Roy suddenly appeared, grinning as he stretched out his hand. In his palm lay a green pendant, its surface shimmering under the dim light, intricate runes inscribed into its polished core. The faint pulse of essence energy radiated from it¡ªa relic meant to aid cultivation. Denwen¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Wait¡­ isn¡¯t this the Verdant Core Pendant?¡± He looked up in shock. ¡°The one you got as a test reward?¡± Roy smirked. ¡°Yeah. And I¡¯m giving it to you.¡± Denwen frowned, crossing his arms. ¡°You¡¯re joking, right? That thing boosts essence reserves by 25% and increases recovery speed by 20%. You¡¯re just handing it over?¡± Roy pushed the pendant against Denwen¡¯s chest insistently. ¡°What¡¯s the problem? I¡¯m an A-grade talent¡ªI don¡¯t need it. My essence recovers so fast I can just sit for thirty minutes, and I¡¯m back at full capacity. You need it way more than I do.¡± Denwen hesitated. The offer was tempting. The Verdant Core Pendant could help with his stagnation, but¡ª "You¡¯re already mid Rank 1, and now the principal has taken you under his wing. You¡¯ll be getting even better resources soon," Denwen pointed out. Roy shrugged. "Exactly. This thing is just a beginner¡¯s tool for me. But for you? It could change everything." Denwen exhaled, finally reaching out to take the pendant. He ran his fingers over the cool surface, feeling the subtle hum of stored essence within. ¡°¡­Well, I guess I¡¯d be dumb to refuse. The essence cores I use for cultivation barely work for me anyway¡ªmost of the energy just leaks away. But this¡­ this should actually help.¡± As he admired the pendant, Roy¡¯s expression darkened slightly. ¡°Just be careful.¡± Denwen glanced up. ¡°Huh?¡± Roy folded his arms. ¡°The Verdant Core Pendant is addictive. It makes channeling essence easier, but if you overuse it, your body will grow reliant on it. Once removed, your cultivation will slow down drastically¡ªmaybe even worsen.¡± Denwen chuckled, bumping Roy¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Look at you, getting all serious. It¡¯s weird.¡± Roy rolled his eyes, but before he could retort, Denwen continued, grinning. ¡°I already know that I can only use it for an hour a day, max. I should be the one warning you about it.¡± The two burst into laughter, the weight of the conversation lifting. ¡ª Just then, a playful voice cut through the air. ¡°Oh? Someone proposed?¡± Denwen¡¯s heart skipped a beat as he turned toward the voice. Kara. She approached with her usual air of confidence, her long raven-black hair swaying behind her. Her golden eyes gleamed with mischief, and her lips curved into a knowing smirk. Roy turned to Denwen, wiggling his brows teasingly. ¡°Yeah, bro, should I congratulate you?¡± Denwen scoffed, his face heating up slightly. ¡°Oh, shut up. It¡¯s not like that.¡± Kara crossed her arms, tilting her head slightly. ¡°Oh? Then explain why a guy is giving you a pendant.¡± Denwen opened his mouth, but before he could defend himself, Roy attempted to sneak away¡ªtiptoeing out of the conversation. Bad move. Kara noticed instantly. Without even looking, she reached back and grabbed the collar of his uniform, yanking him back effortlessly. ¡°ACK¡ª!¡± Roy gasped, his face turning a deep shade of purple as he struggled in her grip. Denwen chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. ¡°Alright, alright¡ªI owe you one. I promise.¡± He sighed dramatically. ¡°So please¡­ let him breathe?¡± Kara gave Denwen a long look, her eyes twinkling with amusement before she finally released Roy. Gasp! Roy stumbled forward, dramatically clutching his throat. ¡°I¡ªthought¡ªI was going to die.¡± Kara winked at Denwen before walking ahead, swaying her hips just enough to make him notice. Denwen exhaled, running a hand through his hair as he put the pendant in his back pocket. Roy, still recovering, nudged him. ¡°¡­Bro. You are so done for.¡± Denwen just smirked. Painstaking Cultivation The training hall was filled with the quiet hum of focused breathing, the scent of incense lingering in the air as students sat in neat rows, their bodies still, their minds reaching inward. The soft flickering glow of essence-infused lanterns lined the walls, casting shifting shadows across the polished wooden floor. Agrona moved among them with a measured grace, her sharp eyes observing each student¡¯s form. Her long silver hair was tied in a loose bun, and her well-fitted mage¡¯s robes swayed with each step. Pushing her thin-rimmed glasses up the bridge of her nose, she studied the struggling students¡ªeach at different stages of mastering essence circulation. Her voice, calm yet firm, carried through the hall. ¡°Calm your minds. Do not force the flow¡ªlet the essence move naturally, like a river winding through the land.¡± She stopped beside a boy trembling slightly, his hands shaking as he tried to channel his essence from his dantian, the core of his power, toward his limbs. His brow was furrowed in frustration. "Breathe in deeply. Expand your core with each breath. Essence moves with your intent, but it must not be forced¡ªlet it be a companion, not a beast to be tamed." She gently pressed two fingers against his back, just between his shoulder blades. ¡°Straighten your posture. The energy flows through seven core points, forming a complete circuit. It moves from your dantian, flowing downward toward your knees, then upward along your shoulders, passing through your head, down to your chest, and finally back to the dantian.¡± The student gulped, nodding. Agrona gave a small nod of approval before continuing her rounds, her flowing robe whispering against the ground. Her steps slowed as she stopped in front of Denwen. He sat with his legs crossed, his hands resting lightly on his knees, his jaw clenched in frustration. His eyes were shut tight, but the faint tremor in his arms showed his struggle. Unlike the others, his essence refused to circulate properly. Every time he managed to push a small amount of energy out of his dantian, it stalled, like a flame struggling to stay lit in a storm. ¡®His posture is correct¡­ His willpower is strong¡­ But it¡¯s a shame¡ªhe¡¯s only a D-grade.¡¯ Agrona sighed inwardly, watching as Denwen''s fingers twitched, his breathing unsteady. The others had begun to form smooth cycles of essence flow, but he was still stuck at the first step. Still, she saw something in him. With careful precision, she knelt beside him, placing a gentle hand on his upper back. Denwen flinched slightly, but her voice remained steady. ¡°Your core is fighting against itself.¡± Denwen¡¯s eyes snapped open, confusion flickering through them. Agrona adjusted her glasses. ¡°You are trying to push the essence forward, but energy is not meant to be driven like cattle¡ªit must be guided.¡± She took his right hand, lifting it slightly. ¡°Imagine your essence as a river, but your dantian as the mountain it flows from. You cannot force the water down¡ªyou must create a path for it.¡± Denwen took a deep breath, nodding slowly. He closed his eyes once more. This time, instead of forcing the essence, he envisioned it flowing¡ªa slow but steady stream weaving through his body. Agrona observed the faint flicker of success before standing and turning her attention to another student¡ªRose, whose small frame trembled under the strain. Sweat dripped from her forehead, her hands nearly slipping apart. Agrona¡¯s voice softened. ¡°Oh, Rose¡ªkeep your palms connected properly.¡± She gently repositioned the girl¡¯s hands, stabilizing her form. ¡°This will help keep the circuit strong. Essence travels best when the pathways remain open. If your flow breaks, your energy will disperse before completing the cycle.¡± The girl nodded weakly, exhaling a slow breath. Agrona stood, her hands clasped behind her back. ¡°Remember, true mastery comes when you no longer think about this process. When it becomes as natural as breathing, you will be ready to move to the next stage¡ªtransferring essence into your weapon. And only once you¡¯ve mastered that¡­¡± she paused, her silver eyes sweeping across the room, ¡°¡­will you be strong enough to attempt a breakthrough.¡± Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. A thud echoed across the hall. A student collapsed, gasping for breath, his body trembling as mental fatigue overtook him. The room went silent, save for his ragged breathing. Agrona was beside him in an instant, kneeling as she placed two fingers against his wrist, feeling the faint pulse of his depleted essence core. Her voice remained calm but firm. ¡°This is the cost of overexertion.¡± She turned to the others. ¡°Your essence determines your stamina, whether in cultivation or battle. If you drain yourself too quickly, your mind will collapse before your body does.¡± The lesson was clear. She stood, adjusting her glasses once more. ¡°Alright, everyone. Take the next hour to meditate and recover your essence.¡± Her tone softened. ¡°Overcoming these hurdles is part of your growth. Do not be discouraged.¡± She turned toward the doorway. ¡°Those who have passed this stage, follow me to the next room. The rest of you¡ªfocus on recovery.¡± As the door closed behind her, Denwen clenched his fists. ¡ª The air inside the furnace-like training hall was suffocating, the heat pressing against Roy¡¯s skin like an iron brand. Sweat dripped down his temple, soaking into his uniform, but he remained unwavering¡ªhis grip tight around the wooden sword, his breathing controlled. Emerald green essence pulsed through his body, flowing into the blade, causing it to shimmer with raw power. With a sharp exhale, he swung downward¡ª BOOM! The force of his aura surged forward, carving through the air like a guillotine, slamming into the reinforced training puppet. The ground trembled, dust scattering into the air¡ª But the puppet stood firm, only slightly shaken. ¡°Tsk tsk tsk¡­¡± A slow, unimpressed shake of the head came from Dvalin, the battle-hardened dwarven principal, his metal-plated arms crossed over his chest. His deep, gravelly voice carried an air of absolute authority. "Still too weak, boy.¡± Roy gritted his teeth, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Dvalin took measured steps forward, the heavy clang of his boots echoing through the room. His gray beard swayed slightly as he approached, his sharp, steel-colored eyes locked onto Roy¡¯s with an intensity that felt immovable. ¡°An A-grade talent means nothing in the grand scheme of things.¡± Roy flinched slightly at the words. ¡°It gives you an advantage, yes. You have a full core, you recover faster, you refine essence more efficiently, but you must understand this¡ª¡± Dvalin¡¯s voice dropped into something darker, something absolute, ¡°talent does not define the pinnacle of strength.¡± He lifted a single finger, flicking the air. A concentrated surge of energy blasted outward¡ªCRACK!¡ªshattering the puppet Roy had barely managed to damage. Roy¡¯s breath caught. Dvalin lowered his hand, his gaze never leaving Roy¡¯s. ¡°Innate ability.¡± The words hung in the air like an unshakable truth. ¡°This is the dividing line between the strong and the weak. Between those who scrape by with borrowed power¡­ and those who carve their names into history.¡± He started pacing slowly, his heavy mechanical arms whirring faintly as he gestured. "Essence alone is like a blade¡ªit can be wielded, sharpened, and mastered. But an innate ability? That is the difference between a mere warrior and a legend.¡± He pointed at Roy¡¯s chest. ¡°Your talent is a tool. But your ability? That is your truth. The very force that will set you apart from the countless others who have an A-grade.¡± Roy¡¯s breath steadied, his hands tightening around the sword¡¯s grip. Dvalin smirked slightly. "Look around, boy. Out there in the open world, there are thousands¡ªno, millions¡ªborn with A-grade essence talent. And do you know what most of them become?" He let the words sink in before answering his own question. "Foot soldiers. Cannon fodder. Nobodies.¡± Roy¡¯s fingers twitched. "Your talent puts you ahead. But only your ability can truly make you unmatched. Some never awaken theirs at all. Some spend their entire lives searching for it. Some only stumble upon it by accident. And by then¡ª¡± he snapped his fingers, ¡°it¡¯s too late.¡± Roy¡¯s breathing quickened. Dvalin¡¯s expression hardened. ¡°You, however, don¡¯t have the luxury of waiting. There are rapid undercurrents going on that threatened our very world, and they seek talented individual like you, no one can protect you better than you with your own strength¡± He raised his hand, summoning another puppet from the ground. ¡°You have an innate ability¡ªyou just don¡¯t know what it is yet.¡± The puppet stood tall, its runed body pulsing, waiting for Roy¡¯s next strike. Dvalin folded his arms, watching Roy with sharp, expectant eyes. ¡°Before you can master your ability, you must first uncover it. The key to that?¡± He pointed at Roy¡¯s chest again. ¡°Emotion. Instinct. Purpose.¡± Roy swallowed, his heart pounding. "In battle, in life, your ability will not awaken from mere training. It will come when you push beyond your limits. When you abandon all restraint. When you are on the verge of either breaking or ascending." His voice became a low growl. "You want to be strong, boy?" Roy nodded, his emerald eyes burning with determination. Dvalin¡¯s grin was fierce. "Then stop thinking like a talented brat." He pointed at the puppet. "Again. This time, don¡¯t just attack. Search for what lies dormant inside you.¡± Roy exhaled sharply, lowering his stance. Alternatives of the Weak The cultivation chamber was silent, a perfect void of sound thanks to the intricate runes inscribed along the walls. They pulsed faintly with power, sealing the space from all external distractions. This isolation chamber was one of the academy¡¯s most valuable resources, designed to help students hone their abilities and push their limits. Denwen sat cross-legged in the center, bathed in the dim green glow of a single hovering essence crystal. Around him, shattered remnants of spent essence cores lay scattered like broken glass¡ªlifeless husks drained of their power. He reached out instinctively for another core, only to find nothing but dust between his fingers. A sigh escaped his lips. ¡°Ten cores a week are really nothing. Thirty minutes, and I¡¯ve already run out.¡± His eyes drifted down to the pendant resting against his chest. The Verdant Core Pendant. Even without touching it, he could feel its faint warmth, a soft hum of power waiting to be tapped into. "Good thing I have this." With a practiced motion, he grabbed the last intact green essence core and pressed it to his palm. It immediately started to dissolve, its energy flowing into his body like a warm tide. As the essence seeped into his dantian, he focused, guiding the energy through his body''s core points. The pendant reacted instantly. A vibrant glow pulsed from the engraved runes, spreading in rhythmic waves as it amplified the incoming essence. The moment the refined energy entered his system, Denwen felt the change¡ªhis body absorbed the essence faster, purer, more efficiently. It was like the difference between drinking water straight from a polluted river versus having it filtered through the finest purification system. His body, which normally struggled to retain essence, greedily drank in the surplus energy. The flow of essence was like a canal being carved into dry, cracked earth¡ªgradually widening, deepening, reinforcing his foundation. His fingers twitched. His breathing slowed. His mind sharpened. ¡°Without this artifact, I¡¯d have hit my limit already. My body would have rejected any more essence.¡± He clenched his fist, feeling the strength slowly build within him. ¡°But now¡­ this is like having the reserves of a C-rank. The difference is unreal.¡± His mind drifted toward the future. If he could maintain this pace, it wouldn¡¯t be long before he attempted essence channeling into external weapons. That was the first true step toward bridging the gap between awakened and warriors. And after that¡­ a breakthrough. He could pass this semester. His grip on the pendant tightened. His thoughts turned to his ambitions. He still had his eyes set on Class President. Not just for the status, but for the benefits¡ªaccess to better resources, priority training sessions, and even political weight within the academy. But Roy was already miles ahead. If Denwen wanted to catch up, he had two choices: Exploit weaker students, steal resources, force his way up. But this would make him unnecessary enemies along the way. There was no point in making enemies unless as a last resort. Find a mentor, someone who could provide direct benefits¡ªRoy, Mellissa, or even Angus. The problem? His talent. Who would waste their time mentoring someone with a D-grade? Denwen opened his eyes, the green glow of the pendant reflected in his pupils. ¡°No. I won¡¯t beg. I won¡¯t scheme.¡± ¡°There¡¯s another way I can do this. ¡± The last of the essence from the core vanished into his body, and the shattered remains crumbled between his fingers. Denwen inhaled deeply, then exhaled. ¡ª- A week after his failed awakening, Denwen sat at his desk, a thick tome sprawled open before him. The dim glow of the mana lamp barely lit the pages, but he was too engrossed to care. The book was an extensive study on Mechavaris¡ªthe technological marvel of the Techno Continent¡ªand how their advancements in magic-technology fusion had shaped entire civilizations. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. His door creaked open, and the scent of sweat and steel wafted in before the intruder even spoke. "Hey, champ. Hope you¡¯re good." Denwen smirked, not bothering to turn around. "Shouldn''t you be off drinking somewhere, or in one smelly dungeon, old man?" Varek let out a loud bark of laughter and stepped into the room. His boots clunked heavily against the floor. "Oh, come on. Can¡¯t a father check in on his little runt?" Denwen finally turned, setting his book aside. His voice was light, but there was a weight behind it. "Well¡­ things happen. But I can¡¯t let Nicole see me sulking. That¡¯d really hurt my ego more than the awakening did." Varek grinned at that. "I see you¡¯ve taken that setback well. That¡¯s the sign of a true man. That¡¯s why I¡¯ve always liked you¡ªwhile other kids your age would be having their rebellious phase or moping around, you just keep going. Hahaha!" He reached out and clapped Denwen on the shoulder. "OW! You crazy bastard! Why the hell are you hitting me like I owe you money?!" Denwen yelped, clutching his shoulder. Varek gave him an unimpressed look. "Come on, you¡¯re a Rank 1 now. Stuff like that shouldn¡¯t even make you flinch." He flexed his thick forearms, grinning. "Besides, you should see the beatings I used to get. Builds character." Denwen rolled his eyes. "Yeah? Well, maybe Rank 1 should also come with ¡®immunity to idiot rank 3 fathers¡¯ Because that actually hurt, you brute." Varek roared with laughter and took a seat across from him. They talked for a while¡ªabout everything and nothing at all. Varek teased him about his non-existent love life, poking fun at the way Nicole hovered around him. Then, after the laughter settled, Denwen¡¯s expression turned serious. "Old man, I¡¯ve been thinking." Varek arched an eyebrow. "Oh? Should I be worried?" Denwen ignored him and flipped open his book, pushing it toward Varek. The older man leaned in, squinting at the diagrams and inscriptions detailing the selection process for Mechavaris scholars. Varek¡¯s grin widened. "Ah, so that¡¯s your plan¡ªyou want to head to the Techno Continent." Denwen nodded. "It¡¯s my best bet. Even if I lack talent in cultivation, my intelligence is something no one can take from me." Varek nodded approvingly. "That¡¯s a solid plan, honestly. If anyone could make a name for themselves through wit alone, it¡¯s you. But¡­ you do realize Mechavaris is far from here, right? Traveling by road would take at least a year, and teleportation is¡­ well, let¡¯s just say that¡¯s not in our budget." Denwen smirked. "I know. That¡¯s why I¡¯m aiming for the selection exam in my third year." Varek let out a low whistle. "Oho, I see. Clever." The selection exam was a once-in-a-decade event, where scholars, warriors, and mages competed for sponsorships from major kingdoms, noble houses, and research institutions. It was the fastest, safest, and most prestigious way to get into Mechavaris. But getting selected was an entirely different beast. Varek leaned back and crossed his arms. "You know what that means, right? You¡¯ll need to be the best of the best. And for that, you need resources¡ªmanuscripts, artifacts, herbs. Something to make you stand out." Denwen was already nodding. "That¡¯s why I wanted to ask¡­ can I get registered as a hunter?" Silence. Varek¡¯s relaxed posture vanished. His expression darkened, and his fingers drummed against the table. "Absolutely not." Denwen blinked. "What? But¡ª" "No." The finality in Varek¡¯s voice sent a chill down Denwen¡¯s spine. Varek leaned forward, his voice quieter but firm. "Listen to me, kid. The life of a hunter isn¡¯t something you can just ¡®do for extra cash.¡¯ It¡¯s a death sentence for someone at your level. You don¡¯t have the rank, the talent, or the experience." Denwen gritted his teeth. "But if I¡ª" Varek slammed his fist onto the table, the wood groaning under his strength. "Dungeons aren''t training grounds. They are war zones. There are things in there that even seasoned Rank 3s avoid, and you think you, a fresh Rank 1 with a D-grade talent, can just waltz in and come back out?" Denwen clenched his fists, but Varek wasn''t done. "Do you even know how most low-rank hunters die?" His voice was sharp now. "They don¡¯t get killed instantly. No, they get injured. They lose an arm, a leg, or an eye. They bleed out slowly, screaming in some forgotten cavern, while their squad leaves them behind because survival comes first. Most times the dangers don¡¯t even lurk within the dungeon but with your own team members" Varek¡¯s gaze bore into Denwen¡¯s, unwavering. "If you step into that world now, you won¡¯t be fighting for money¡ªyou¡¯ll be fighting to stay alive. Every. Single. Day." Silence stretched between them. Denwen exhaled slowly. "¡­Then what else can I do?" Varek relaxed slightly and leaned back. "There are other ways to earn without throwing yourself into a meat grinder. Such as Apprentice under a blacksmith, become a mage understudy, tutor younger students. Denwen your knowledge far surpassed his peers, teaching theory classes could provide some gold. Artifact appraising ¨C With enough training, you could help evaluate and trade minor relics¡±. Varek listed the options carefully, his tone less harsh now. "Build yourself up slowly, step by step. By the time you reach Rank 2, you¡¯ll have options. And when you finally step into a dungeon, you¡¯ll do so as someone ready." Denwen wanted to argue¡ªbut deep down, he knew Varek was right. ¡ª- Back to the Present, Denwen smiled weakly, his fingers brushing against the glowing pendant on his chest. "I¡¯m sorry, old man¡­" His grip tightened. "But I think I¡¯m finally going to have that rebellious phase I never had." A Gamble Roy leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching Denwen fumble with the small, sleek-looking device in his hands. "Bro, are you seriously doing this? What if you get caught?" Roy hissed, eyes darting around the dimly lit storage hall. Denwen, unbothered, tugged off his academy-issued uniform, replacing it with a much plainer set of clothes¡ªa simple dark tunic and slacks that made him blend in with the common workers. He pressed a button on the small device around his neck, and his features twisted as if melting like wax, reforming into someone else entirely. His striking black hair dulled to an unremarkable brown, his deep eyes faded into a muted hazel, and his overall sharpness softened into complete mediocrity. Roy frowned. "Damn¡­ you actually look like background filler." "Perfect, then," Denwen grinned, adjusting his collar. "Now, if anyone asks, I was in my room all night, studying my very important books. That¡¯s where my Grade A buddy comes in. Just cover for me, and everything will be fine." He clapped Roy¡¯s shoulder confidently. Roy sighed, already regretting this. "Yeah, yeah. But tell me, genius, how do you expect that cheap trick to fool the professors, or, I don¡¯t know, the dozens of security measures around the academy?" Denwen smirked. "Simple. You are my golden ticket out of here." Roy rolled his eyes. "And your way back in?" "Well¡­" Denwen plucked a single strand of Roy¡¯s blonde hair. "Ow! The hell, man?" Roy winced before realization hit him. "Wait, are you planning on impersonating me!?" Denwen flashed a sly grin. "Bingo. This device isn¡¯t just a disguise; it can replicate essence signatures with a sample. If anyone scans me, they¡¯ll think I¡¯m the mighty Roy." Roy groaned. "This is a terrible idea." "Correction: This is a calculated risk¡ªwhich is way cooler than a dumb idea." Together, they slipped out of their hiding spot, seamlessly blending into the sea of students flooding the walkways. Roy took the lead, his natural charisma making it easy to divert attention away from Denwen. He smiled and waved at passing students, a few girls giggling and whispering excitedly at his presence, while Denwen kept his head low, playing the part of an unremarkable extra in the grand stage of the academy. As they neared one of the lesser-used entrances¡ªa supply gate often used for restocking provisions¡ªRoy¡¯s nerves flared up. "Look, I still think this is dumb, but at least tell me there¡¯s no¡ª" "Oh no." Roy¡¯s sentence died in his throat as he spotted her. A tall woman stood near the gate, engaged in a casual conversation with a supply carriage driver. She was effortlessly elegant, her raven-black hair cascading down her shoulders. Even with her eyes perpetually shut behind her signature glasses, there was an aura of absolute awareness about her. Miss Agrona. The academy¡¯s mana control instructor. The Rank 3 mana control instructor. Denwen immediately tugged on Roy¡¯s sleeve, whispering harshly, "Abort mission. I repeat¡ªabort mission!" Roy nodded rapidly. "Agreed. New plan: get the hell out of here." But just as they turned to slink away¡ª She vanished. And then, a heartbeat later¡ª She was in front of them. Her arrival was completely silent, but her presence alone was enough to stop their hearts for a second. She stood with a calm smile, fingers gently adjusting the edge of her glasses. Denwen¡¯s soul nearly left his body. "Oh no. I completely forgot Miss Agrona was ridiculously fast¡­" Roy swallowed hard. "Welp. It was nice knowing you, buddy." Agrona tilted her head, her expression unreadable. "Oh my, what do we have here?" Her voice was soft, almost sweet, but somehow, it sent a chill down their spines. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. She turned toward Roy first, her glasses gleaming. "Roy, dear, you seem to be keeping questionable company." Denwen, still masked by his disguise, stiffened under her invisible pressure. "Uhm, Miss Agrona, I promise you this isn''t what it looks like," Roy stammered, his usual smoothness cracking. Denwen was about to jump in, throw some weak excuse into the mix¡ª And then, she laughed. "Hahahaha! Oh, you should have seen your faces!" She giggled, covering her mouth as if she had just heard the most amusing joke. Denwen and Roy blinked. "Huh?" Miss Agrona straightened, her laughter subsiding. "That¡¯s a very impressive disguise, young man. Unfortunately for you¡­" she leaned forward ever so slightly, her smile widening just a fraction, "...you met me." Denwen felt his stomach drop. She began listing all the possible punishments they could face¡ªhalving their weekly essence core allowance, suspension, a public disciplinary hearing¡ªeach sentence draining more color from their faces. Roy whispered, "We''re screwed." Denwen was already calculating how fast he could run. Then¡ª "I¡¯m going to allow it." Silence. "...Huh?" The boys blinked in unison. Agrona smiled again, though there was a mischievous glint behind her glasses. "What, did you think we teachers never did this kind of thing? Please, we had our moments. The key difference is, we never got caught." Roy and Denwen were still frozen in shock, unsure if this was a test or some kind of divine prank. Her voice dropped slightly, her glowing purple irises visible through her glasses. "So, don''t get caught.*" A pulse of pure pressure radiated from her, the weight of a Rank 3 bearing down on them for just a fleeting second. The boys nodded rapidly, stiffly swallowing in sync. "Good boys," she said, her charming smile returning. "Now, get out of here before I change my mind." Without hesitation, the two of them bolted, slipping past the supply gate faster than they ever thought possible. As they vanished into the night, Agrona chuckled to herself, shaking her head. "Ah¡­ youth." ¡ª- Denwen barely glanced back as he sped away from the academy, his hoverbike assembling seamlessly from his wrist device. The sleek, dark-red vehicle hummed to life beneath him, its smooth contours gleaming under the sunlight as he engaged the acceleration. With a firm twist of the handles, he shot forward, the wind whipping against his body as the academy quickly became a blur in the distance. After nearly an hour of high-speed travel, he finally arrived at his destination¡ªthe Fang Guild. The guild wasn¡¯t just a simple building; it was a fortress of warriors, a towering structure of dark stone and reinforced metals. Its entrance was marked by massive iron gates, adorned with the sigil of a flaming wolf¡ªa symbol of resilience and ferocity. Runes flickered faintly on the metal, a clear indication of magical reinforcements. Even the very walls of the guild carried scorch marks and deep claw grooves, remnants of battles fought within and outside these walls over the years. A sprawling plaza stretched before the entrance, where hundreds of awakened and non-awakened alike moved with purpose. There was an overwhelming scent of metal, sweat, and mana-infused potions, mingling in the air with the occasional scent of roasted meat from nearby food stalls catering to exhausted hunters. Denwen dismounted, swiftly collapsing his bike back into its wrist-bound form, a movement so fluid that it barely drew attention. His eyes scanned the guild¡¯s surroundings, taking in the sight of armored hunters, robed mages, and even a few beastkin mercenaries moving about in clusters. Some were boasting about their latest hunts, others were collecting rewards, and a few sat quietly in corners, sharpening their weapons with a grim, battle-worn air. ¡°Damn¡­ there¡¯s way more awakened here than I expected,¡± he muttered under his breath, impressed by the sheer volume of activity. He took a step toward the guild¡¯s grand entrance, but before he could proceed, a figure approached him¡ªa young woman in a crisp uniform, distinct from the hardened hunters around her. Her attire, a simple yet professional tunic marked with the guild¡¯s sigil, signified her role as one of the guild¡¯s many attendants. She walked with caution, her posture slightly hesitant but not timid, her eyes trained on him with a mix of curiosity and professionalism. ¡°Uhm¡­ excuse me, esteemed awakened sir,¡± she greeted, her voice careful, as if wary of offending. ¡°Are you new here?¡± Denwen raised a brow. ¡°Yeah, but¡­ how did you know I was an awakened?¡± He hadn¡¯t leaked a trace of his aura, and he was dressed in plain clothes, nothing that screamed hunter or mage. The girl gave a small, knowing smile and tapped the device resting over one of her eyes¡ªa single-lensed monocle-like glass that shimmered faintly. ¡°Sir, if you notice, all workers here wear these.¡± Denwen¡¯s gaze flicked to the other attendants bustling around the guild. Sure enough, each of them had similar one-lens glasses, a contrast to the usual two-lens eyewear commonly worn in the city. ¡°This device helps us identify who is awakened and who isn¡¯t,¡± she explained. ¡°It prevents¡­ certain mistakes from happening. You¡¯d be surprised how many conflicts arose from wrong assumptions before we started using them. Of course, we can¡¯t see your exact rank¡ªthat would be considered rude.¡± Denwen smirked. ¡°Interesting. So I can¡¯t pretend to be a normal civilian, huh?¡± ¡°Not within the guild, no,¡± she chuckled, though there was a hint of relief in her tone. ¡°You are here to register, I assume?¡± Denwen nodded. ¡°And let me guess¡ªyou¡¯re my guide?¡± The girl blinked in slight surprise before nodding. ¡°Yes, sir.¡± Denwen offered a polite bow. ¡°Then lead the way. I¡¯ll be in your care.¡± The girl¡¯s eyes widened slightly¡ªwhether out of surprise or confusion, he wasn¡¯t sure. But for a brief moment, she faltered before quickly regaining her composure, motioning for him to follow. Fang Guild "You can call me Saxa. Let¡¯s start with the mission board," the girl said, turning toward a massive holographic display that dominated the hall. Denwen¡¯s words caught in his throat as he stared at the ever-shifting display, its golden-blue interface flickering with the rapid exchange of missions. The sheer scale of the board left him momentarily stunned¡ªhundreds of tasks appeared and vanished as they were accepted in real-time, categorized by difficulty, rewards, and urgency. Lines of text flickered across the board: Every line shifted as hunters in the guild claimed jobs, causing completed tasks to disappear and new ones to take their place. The entire process was automated, the holographic board syncing directly with the hunters'' wrist devices, ensuring efficiency in mission allocation. ¡°As you can see,¡± Saxa continued, ¡°this board contains all available missions¡ªsome assigned by the guild, others requested by individuals or factions. Once you reach a certain credit score, you can even post your own missions for other hunters to accept.¡± Denwen glanced around, noticing several hunters tapping their wrist devices, syncing their mission selections with their personal interfaces. ¡°Well, since you already have a device, you can download the board directly onto it. The list will automatically update when you step into the building,¡± Saxa added, walking toward a nearby registration counter. ¡ª- ¡°This is Linda,¡± Saxa gestured toward a young woman sitting behind a counter, her auburn hair tied neatly behind her ears. ¡°She¡¯ll handle your registration and get everything installed for you.¡± Linda offered a professional smile. ¡°The registration fee is one silver coin, or you can pay with an essence core¡ªwe¡¯ll return the difference as credit score.¡± Denwen nodded and handed over a silver coin. In return, Linda gestured toward a small scanning panel embedded in the counter. ¡°Place your hand here,¡± she instructed. Denwen complied, pressing his palm against the cool surface. Almost instantly, the scanner hummed to life, tendrils of faint blue essence wrapping around his skin as it analyzed his body¡¯s mana signature, rank, and essence composition. The scan concluded with a soft chime. Linda nodded, inputting the data into the system. ¡°Your registration is complete,¡± she said. ¡°Your name, age, and essence type have been linked to your guild profile. If you check your device, you¡¯ll notice an empty mission log¡ªsince you haven¡¯t taken or completed any missions yet.¡± Denwen glanced at his wrist device, seeing the new interface overlay with his name, rank, and available credits. ¡°Now, let¡¯s assign your class,¡± Saxa chimed in. A new dropdown menu appeared on Denwen¡¯s device, listing an array of classes under two major categories: ¡ª Warriors ¡ú Swordmasters, Spearmen, Assassins, Shieldbearers, Brawlers, and more. ¡ª Mages ¡ú Fire Masters, Water Manipulators, Enslavement Specialists, Rune Crafters, and countless others. ¡°You can change your class at any time depending on your fighting style,¡± Saxa explained. ¡°So, what do you think fits you best?¡± Denwen hesitated for a moment. Weapons were never his forte. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. During sparring sessions at the academy, he had never excelled at using swords, spears, or bows¡ªhis body simply refused to channel essence into external weapons. However, there was one thing he had always been good at using. His fists. ¡°I¡¯d go with the warrior class,¡± Denwen said firmly. ¡°More specifically, I¡¯d like to be a brawler.¡± Saxa grinned. ¡°That¡¯s a solid choice. Brawlers are known for raw strength and resilience¡ªdefinitely a game-changer on the battlefield.¡± She gave him a thumbs-up before motioning back to the mission board. ¡ª- ¡°As you can see,¡± Saxa continued, ¡°the mission board is split into two major categories¡ªindividual missions and team missions. Some jobs are best handled alone, but higher-ranked tasks almost always require a party.¡± Denwen nodded, but his attention had drifted elsewhere. He had spotted a particular section of the mission board¡ªa page entirely dedicated to a single faction. A blood-red emblem flashed on the screen, overlaid with hundreds of names and bounties. The page title read: Emberfall ¨C Most Wanted Criminals & Open Bounties Denwen¡¯s brow furrowed as he skimmed the details. Each profile came with graphic details¡ªimages of entire towns reduced to ashes, bodies impaled upon crystalline spikes, and warriors frozen mid-battle, their souls extracted. ¡°You mean to tell me¡­¡± Denwen murmured, his voice laced with disbelief, ¡°that several towns and even continents have been destroyed by these guys?¡± Saxa sighed. ¡°Yep. They aren¡¯t just some random bandits or rebels¡ªthey are an extinction-level threat. Wherever Emberfall moves, trillions die.¡± Denwen clenched his fists. So many lives¡­ wiped out like nothing. ¡°But don¡¯t worry,¡± Saxa continued, sensing his unease. ¡°This town isn¡¯t as weak as you think. We have Crimson Academy, the Fang Guild, and powerhouse families like the Ignisclades and Emberbanes. If Emberfall ever dares to come here, they won¡¯t have an easy fight.¡± Denwen exhaled, his gaze lingering on the most-wanted list. ¡ª Denwen sighed, rubbing the back of his head. There was nothing he could do about Emberfall for now. Thinking about such massive threats wouldn¡¯t help him¡ªnot when he was still at the bottom of the ladder. Right now, the most pressing issue was earning money and getting stronger. If he didn¡¯t close the gap, Roy and the rest would leave him behind permanently. He turned back to Saxa. ¡°Are there any missions I can take with a good reward? I¡¯d prefer solo missions, but I wouldn¡¯t mind joining a team if necessary.¡± Saxa smirked. ¡°Oh? So eager already? Let¡¯s take a look.¡± She swiped her fingers across her wrist device, scrolling through the mission board before stopping at one. ¡°Ah, this seems just right.¡± A new holographic notification hovered in front of him: [¡ï ¡ï] Goblin Gate Mission Objective: Eliminate the goblins within the Ferrigton Dungeon. Location: Ferrigton, outskirts of the town. Reward: 10 gold coins or it¡¯s equivalent in cores from rank 1 to 3. Denwen¡¯s brows lifted slightly. Goblins weren¡¯t particularly difficult to deal with, but an entire dungeon meant numbers could become a problem. ¡°This would¡¯ve been perfect for you,¡± Saxa continued, ¡°but there¡¯s one issue¡ªyou need to be at least Rank 2 to apply to form a team.¡± Denwen frowned. ¡°And solo?¡± She shook her head. ¡°Same requirement. Rank 1s aren¡¯t allowed to take dungeon missions alone, especially since goblin nests can be unpredictable.¡± Denwen exhaled sharply, frustrated. He wasn¡¯t weak by any means for his rank, but guild rules were guild rules. ¡°Don¡¯t be too downcast, though.¡± Saxa smiled reassuringly. ¡°If you look around, you¡¯ll find a team or two that might be willing to bring you along¡ªeven if you¡¯re just Rank 1. Some squads are always looking for extra hands.¡± Before Denwen could respond, a soft beep sounded from Saxa¡¯s monocle, flashing red. She sighed. ¡°Oops. Looks like our time is up¡ªI need to attend to another newbie.¡± She straightened her uniform before giving him a friendly nod. ¡°I wish you all the best, sir. Welcome to Fang Guild.¡± With that, she turned away, already approaching another fresh recruit, leaving Denwen alone in the vast guild hall. Denwen exhaled, glancing at the busy room around him. Looks like it¡¯s time to find a team. First Day, First Team Denwen sat on the worn-out wooden bench, frustration settling deep in his bones. Every team he approached had turned him down, either for being too low-ranked or not fitting their needs. Mages were in high demand for their ranged attacks, enslavement masters were valued for their scouting abilities, and tanks were essential to lead the charge against dangerous creatures. But a lone brawler? No one seemed interested. He sighed, scrolling through the mission board on his wrist device. Solo missions paid less, and those that did have decent rewards were practically suicide for someone at his current strength. He considered heading back to school¡ªmaybe he was rushing things. Just as doubt began creeping in, a broad-chested man with a rough, weathered look approached. He had the classic hunter¡¯s appearance: an untamed beard, worn-out but sturdy armor, and a confident grin that made it seem like he owned the place. ¡°Hey man, heard you were looking for a team to join,¡± the man said, his deep voice carrying a casual friendliness. Denwen looked up, raising a brow. ¡°I guess you heard right. Let me guess, you¡¯re recruiting?¡± ¡°Yup. My team just needs one more guy to meet the hunter ratio for a dungeon mission,¡± the man answered, extending a hand. ¡°Name¡¯s Garric Ironveil, but just call me Garric.¡± Denwen shook his hand firmly, deciding to go with his chosen alias. ¡°Ren Voss. I¡¯m a brawler.¡± Garric¡¯s grin widened. ¡°A brawler, huh? Nice. The team¡¯s gonna love you. Come on, I¡¯ll introduce you to them.¡± Denwen followed as Garric led the way through the bustling guild hall, explaining the mission as they walked. ¡°The job is a simple mining mission in a dungeon. We¡¯re heading to a mana crystal deposit, but the place is crawling with lesser beasts and low-level disasters. Nothing we can¡¯t handle. Hell, I could probably deal with those Ironhide Boars myself, but guild rules say we need a full team.¡± He chuckled. ¡°Rules are rules, y¡¯know?¡± Denwen listened carefully, nodding along. A mining mission. Not glamorous, but it was something. Soon, they reached a long table where five people sat, engaged in casual conversation. As they noticed Garric approach, they turned their attention toward Denwen with curious but friendly expressions. Garric clapped his hands together. ¡°Alright, folks, this here is Ren. He¡¯s looking to join us.¡± A slender man with dark, messy hair that covered one eye leaned back in his chair, studying Denwen with a sharp gaze. ¡°Ren, huh? I¡¯m Roran. Archer, scout, and the best damn set of eyes you¡¯ll ever have on your team.¡± His voice was calm, confident, and carried the weight of experience. Next, a young woman with long silver hair and a mage¡¯s robe offered a warm smile. She wore a single conical hat, slightly tilted to one side. ¡°I¡¯m Elara. The healer. You get hurt? I patch you up. Simple as that.¡± Her voice was gentle, reassuring, but there was a quiet strength in her words. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, we take care of our own.¡± A shirtless, towering man with a body sculpted from raw muscle smirked, crossing his arms. His presence alone was overwhelming, exuding raw strength. ¡°Korrin. Brawler. You fight with your fists, kid? Good. We¡¯ll see if you¡¯re any good at it.¡± His grin was teasing but not unkind. Beside him, a lean warrior with quick, restless movements stretched his arms lazily. His short, dark red hair made him stand out. ¡°Renji. Speed specialist. I get in and out before anyone knows what hit ¡®em.¡± He gave a casual salute. ¡°Nice to have another pair of hands.¡± Finally, a man with short silver hair and piercing green eyes gave a polite nod, his sword resting in its sheath beside him. He had a composed aura, like someone who measured every action. ¡°Kaelin. Swordsman. If it bleeds, I can cut it.¡± His voice was smooth and steady, carrying no arrogance¡ªjust certainty. Garric wrapped an arm around Denwen¡¯s shoulders, grinning. ¡°And I¡¯m the tank. The one who makes sure we don¡¯t all die.¡± Denwen took a step back, looking at them all. He noticed something. ¡°Wait¡­ from the looks of it, you guys are already balanced. Why would you need another brawler?¡± Garric chuckled, rubbing his beard. ¡°Ah, well, see¡­ we don¡¯t need another brawler.¡± Denwen narrowed his eyes. ¡°Then why am I here?¡± Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. Garric clapped him on the back, laughing. ¡°We need a porter. Someone to carry our supplies while we¡¯re inside the dungeon.¡± Denwen¡¯s face twitched. ¡°You mean, a pack mule?¡± ¡°Hey, don¡¯t take it the wrong way,¡± Garric said, raising his hands. ¡°It¡¯s just that spatial rings don¡¯t work in all dungeons. Some places restrict them, so we need to carry our stuff the old-fashioned way. That¡¯s where you come in.¡± Denwen crossed his arms, skeptical. ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ This doesn¡¯t exactly sound like a great deal for me.¡± Garric grinned again. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about the reward. The system distributes everything fairly. You¡¯ll get paid for the work you do.¡± Elara leaned forward, giving him a warm, reassuring smile. ¡°Ren, relax. We¡¯re like family here. You¡¯d be the youngest among us, so we¡¯ll take care of you.¡± Her words were surprisingly genuine, enough to make him hesitate. The group seemed solid¡ªstrong, experienced, and actually welcoming. Maybe this wasn¡¯t such a bad idea. ¡°¡­Alright,¡± he said, exhaling. ¡°Is there a contract I need to sign?¡± Elara shook her head. ¡°No need for that. We trust each other.¡± Denwen looked at the team again, studying their expressions. There was something about their casual confidence and camaraderie that made him feel¡­ at ease. ¡ª- The hover bus hummed softly as it slowed to a stop in front of the Rank 2 dungeon gate. The massive rift shimmered with an eerie blue aura, its surface rippling like water disturbed by an unseen force. Like all Rank 2 gates, its glow mirrored the essence accumulated by Rank 2 warriors and mages within their cores. Gates were more than just portals; they were tears in space, connecting the known world to hidden subspaces¡ªpocket dimensions existing somewhere between one reality and another. Despite centuries of study, no scholar had truly unraveled the mystery behind them. Some theorized they were natural phenomena, unstable fractures in reality that formed due to essence buildup. Others believed they were artificial constructs, remnants of an ancient civilization that once controlled them. Regardless of their origins, dungeons were the foundation of modern civilization. Their depths contained mana-rich crystals, rare ores, and essence cores vital for cultivation, weapon enhancement, and artifact crafting. The disasters lurking within¡ªcreatures formed from raw essence¡ªwere both a constant threat and an invaluable resource. Their essence cores could be refined for personal strength or sold for massive profits, while rare skill books, occasionally dropped from them, allowed warriors and mages to unlock abilities they might never achieve through training alone. As the bus doors slid open, Denwen stepped out, shifting his grip on the large backpack strapped to his shoulders. It was filled with extra supplies¡ªrations, tools, emergency gear, and mining equipment. Even though he wasn¡¯t here as a proper hunter, his role as a porter was essential. The rest of the team exited behind him, adjusting their gear. Seven figures, each carrying themselves with the quiet confidence of seasoned hunters. Ahead, the dungeon entrance was encased by a fortified barricade, reinforced with essence-infused alloys to prevent potential breaches. Several uniformed officers stood at various checkpoints, their gazes sharp as they monitored the influx of hunters. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s move,¡± Garric said, leading the team forward. His heavy armor clinked with each step, his broad frame radiating authority. As they approached the checkpoint, Denwen¡¯s gaze drifted to the dungeon gate. Up close, the swirling blue aura pulsed in a slow, steady rhythm. It wasn¡¯t just for show¡ªit was a clear indicator of the dungeon¡¯s strength, just as warriors of Rank 2 radiated blue essence from their cores. The same principle applied to all gates, their colors aligning with the respective ranks of warriors and mages. ¡°What¡¯s wrong, kid? First time seeing a Rank 2 gate up close?¡± Renji smirked as he walked past him. Denwen exhaled. ¡°It¡¯s just different when you¡¯re actually about to step inside one.¡± Kaelin, the swordsman, chuckled. ¡°Better get used to it. If you stick around long enough, you¡¯ll see plenty of these¡ªand a whole lot worse.¡± They reached the registration checkpoint, where a stern-faced officer in a gray uniform sat behind a reinforced desk. A small monocle device glowed red as he scanned each hunter, verifying their rank, identity, and contribution record. Garric went first, handing over his hunter license. ¡°Garric Ironveil. Team leader of Iron Fang.¡± The officer gave a curt nod. ¡°Team size?¡± ¡°Seven members.¡± ¡°Mission type?¡± ¡°Mining and subjugation.¡± The officer tapped a few buttons on his device before scanning the rest of the team. When Denwen stepped forward, the officer¡¯s gaze lingered slightly. ¡°Rank 1¡­ And your role?¡± Denwen hesitated before responding. ¡°Porter.¡± The officer made a sound that was somewhere between a scoff and a grunt before logging him in. ¡°Alright, you¡¯re all set. Dungeon time limit is 12 hours. You must return before the deadline or risk being marked as missing. Any violations of guild protocol inside will be met with immediate penalties.¡± A small timer device was handed to Garric. The moment it touched his palm, the countdown began¡ª12:00:00. With their clearance granted, Garric turned back to the group, a grin spreading across his face. ¡°Alright team, time to get to work.¡± Denwen took a deep breath and stepped forward toward the unknown. First Day, First Lesson The moment they stepped through the shimmering blue gate, the world around them shifted, and the bustling noises of the outside vanished into eerie silence. The dungeon¡¯s interior was massive, a colossal cavern stretching as far as the eye could see, its walls adorned with countless mana crystals that bathed the space in an ethereal glow. The crystals pulsed faintly, their green and blue hues intertwining like veins of power coursing through the stone. Some even radiated a faint purple shimmer, indicating a deeper concentration of essence¡ªthe kind that, if left unchecked, could birth even deadlier disasters. The cavern¡¯s rock formations twisted unnaturally, almost as if the dungeon itself was alive, constantly reshaping and expanding. This was no ordinary cave; it was a subspace, a realm where essence condensed at an unnatural rate, forging resources and creatures alike. Denwen¡¯s eyes flickered to the clusters of mana crystals embedded in the walls, gleaming like frozen lightning. These were the true treasures of the dungeon, formed when world essence condensed over centuries. The older the crystal, the purer its power, making them highly sought after by mages, warriors, and artisans alike. But as valuable as they were, they also posed a significant threat¡ªdisasters could feed on them, accelerating their growth and mutation. The stronger the crystals, the deadlier the creatures that lurked nearby. Garric exhaled sharply, his eyes scanning the surroundings. ¡°Damn, this place is a goldmine,¡± he muttered, a greedy glint flashing in his gaze. ¡°If we hit the right spots, we¡¯ll be set for weeks.¡± Denwen had barely absorbed the sight before Garric spoke again. ¡°Renji, scout the perimeter. Make sure no ugly bastards are creeping up on us.¡± Renji smirked. ¡°On it.¡± A faint blue glow flickered around him as he channeled his essence, and then¡ªwhoosh¡ªhe was gone, vanishing in a burst of speed, leaving behind only a gust of wind. Denwen watched in silent amazement. These people weren¡¯t just casual hunters¡ªthey were professionals. The rest of the team began moving swiftly into position. Elara raised her hands, her golden essence swirling as she formed a protective barrier around their immediate vicinity. The translucent dome shimmered faintly before vanishing, leaving behind a subtle distortion in the air¡ªa passive defense against sudden ambushes. Kaelin strode forward, unstrapping a metallic case from his back. He clicked it open, revealing miniature mechanical constructs no larger than a child¡¯s toy. He pulled out twenty of them, channeling his essence into the devices. Their glass-like eyes flickered blue, and then¡ªsnap!¡ªthey expanded, unfolding into six-foot-tall autonomous mining bots with multi-jointed limbs and reinforced drills. Denwen¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Whoa¡­ so these are the autonomous mining bots?¡± Kaelin chuckled, gripping his sword. ¡°Hah! Smart kid.¡± He sheathed the blade against his waist, patting Denwen¡¯s shoulder. ¡°These little guys do the hard work. We just protect them.¡± The moment the mining bots activated, their drills roared to life, the screeching sound bouncing off the cavern walls as they dug into the crystal-rich stone. Suddenly¡ªwhoosh! A sudden gust of wind signaled Renji¡¯s return. He appeared in a blur, landing with a sharp breath. ¡°We¡¯ve got a problem.¡± His daggers gleamed as he reached into a pouch, pulling out a small vial of thick oil. He coated his blades with practiced ease. ¡°A horde¡¯s coming,¡± he said, voice tight. ¡°And it¡¯s led by a Rank 2 Ironhide Boar.¡± The atmosphere shifted instantly. Elara muttered an incantation, weaving empowerment spells into the team. Korrin let out a low, savage laugh, cracking his knuckles, the metallic braces strapped to his fists gleaming ominously. ¡°Hah! Finally, some action!¡± Garric sighed, unstrapping his massive shield from his back. As he pulled it forward, the heavy steel expanded, growing into a towering slab of reinforced essence metal. It was so massive that Denwen briefly wondered how the man even moved with it. The moment Denwen tried to ready himself, reaching for the gauntlet he had purchased on credit, Kaelin¡¯s gaze flicked toward him. ¡°What do you think you¡¯re doing?¡± His voice wasn¡¯t harsh, but it held a quiet authority. Denwen frowned. ¡°A battle is coming. Shouldn¡¯t I help?¡± Kaelin sighed, shaking his head. ¡°No, kid. You¡¯re our porter. We can¡¯t have you getting hurt over some pointless heroics. Just stay put and watch over the bots.¡± He turned away, drawing his sword, its azure glow reflecting in his sharp eyes. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. He smirked. ¡°Time to turn these pigs into pork.¡± Denwen gritted his teeth. He knew he was weaker than them, but being cast aside so easily still stung. A deep, rumbling growl echoed through the cavern, shaking the very ground beneath their feet. Then, the boars emerged. The Ironhide Chief led the charge, a monstrous creature standing nearly eight feet tall at the shoulder, its hide like blackened steel, rippling with muscle and reinforced essence plating. Its crimson eyes locked onto the intruders with pure aggression, tusks glistening like curved daggers, already stained from countless battles. Behind it, a horde of lesser Ironhide Boars followed, each the size of a small carriage, their hooves thundering against the rocky floor. Garric stepped forward, planting his colossal shield into the ground. ¡°Come on, ugly.¡± His voice was steady, confident. The chief snorted, pawing the ground before charging. BOOM! The impact shook the cave as Garric held firm, essence flaring around his shield, absorbing the brunt of the force. Roran, positioned at a distance, nocked an arrow, his fingers steady as he whispered an incantation. The arrow glowed before whistling through the air, finding its mark in the eye of a lesser boar. Renji was a blur, weaving between beasts, daggers flashing, cutting through exposed tendons and weak points. The boars squealed in agony, collapsing as the poison spread through their systems. Kaelin and Korrin took on the Ironhide Chief. Korrin dashed forward, fists coated in essence, delivering a thunderous uppercut to the beast¡¯s jaw. Double Impact. The skill triggered a second strike, reverberating through the boar¡¯s skull. The creature stumbled, but it didn¡¯t go down. It retaliated instantly, its massive maw snapping shut, aiming to tear Korrin in half. Before it could, Kaelin lunged in from the side, his sword flashing with blue fire, cutting across its flank. The blade bit deep, drawing dark, burning essence blood. But the boar didn¡¯t fall. Disasters were always stronger than humans of the same level, and even three Rank 2 warriors fighting with everything they had couldn¡¯t bring it down easily. Denwen clenched his fists, his mind racing. ¡ª- Time blurred as the battle finally came to an end, the once chaotic cavern now drenched in blood and exhaustion. The massive corpse of the Ironhide Chief lay sprawled on the rocky ground, its once-impenetrable hide now riddled with wounds, dark essence-blood pooling beneath its lifeless frame. Garric slumped against the beast¡¯s corpse, breathing heavily, his shield resting beside him. His armor was battered, smeared with blood¡ªsome his, some not. "That... really took everything we had," he muttered, running a hand through his sweat-drenched hair. His eyes were still clouded with the memory of the last moments¡ªthe Chief''s rampage, a desperate, final stand that nearly cost them everything. Elara had long since run dry, her mana reserves completely depleted. Roran¡¯s quiver was empty, forcing him to switch to a short dagger, barely enough to pierce the Chief¡¯s thick hide. Renji, despite his agility, had taken a nasty hit, leaving him in a critical state, his breath ragged as he clutched his wounded side. It had taken every ounce of strength they had to bring the beast down. Garric exhaled, glancing at the glowing timer etched into their guild bracelets¡ªless than thirty minutes left before their time in the dungeon ran out. ¡°We should head back,¡± he said, pushing himself to his feet. No one argued. They weren¡¯t fit to continue. Even if they wanted to push deeper, they¡¯d be walking into another disaster waiting to happen. Stronger groups could clear a dungeon in a single raid, but most hunters took it in stages, selling their gains and returning stronger. That¡¯s exactly what they¡¯d do. ¡ª- The Fang Guild¡¯s hall was bustling with activity when they returned. Other hunters lounged around, boasting about their conquests, some drinking, others engaged in business transactions. They moved toward the submission counter, where their haul was recorded. The mana crystals they mined were handed over in exchange for guild credit and currency, while the Ironhide cores belonged to the team unless they chose to trade them in. Denwen watched the entire process with quiet anticipation. His fingers clenched as the final earnings were tallied, his eyes narrowing as he examined his share. 50 silvers. His chest tightened. "Garric," he called, his voice sharp. Garric turned with a lazy smile. "Yeah?" Denwen held up the pouch of coins. "What the hell is this?" Garric blinked. "Your cut." Denwen¡¯s expression darkened. "Fifty silvers? That''s barely the worth of three Rank 1 cores¡ªand we pulled several out of that dungeon!" His voice rose, frustration spilling over. Garric sighed, as if he¡¯d been expecting this. "Ah, kid, that¡¯s just how it works. Porters get a set wage. You carry the gear, watch the bots, and make sure nothing happens to our loot. You don¡¯t fight, so you don¡¯t get a fighter¡¯s cut. That¡¯s how it¡¯s always been.¡± Denwen¡¯s jaw clenched. ¡°You never explained that beforehand.¡± A smirk tugged at Garric¡¯s lips, his tone laced with amusement. "Come on, Ren. You saw the battle, didn¡¯t you? You think you could''ve done anything out there?" He shook his head. "You¡¯re lucky you even got paid at all." Denwen¡¯s fists trembled. Garric must have noticed because he chuckled and, in a mock show of generosity, pulled out two additional Rank 1 cores from his own stash. "Here. Take these," he said, tossing them toward Denwen like they were scraps. "That should shut you up." Denwen caught them without thinking, but the gesture¡ªthe dismissive arrogance in Garric¡¯s voice¡ªmade his blood boil. He clenched the cores in his fist. Then, without hesitation¡ª ¡°Fuck you.¡± The words left his mouth like venom as he turned and walked away, shoving past the gathered hunters without looking back. Shocking Development Denwen stormed out of the guild hall, fists clenched so tightly his nails threatened to pierce his skin. His jaw was tight, breaths controlled but shallow, the heat of frustration boiling in his chest. They had played him. Used him. It wasn¡¯t surprising¡ªnot really. He had always known he was at a disadvantage. But knowing it and having it shoved in his face were two entirely different things. Their sneers, their dismissive words, the way they tossed him aside like a broken tool¡ªit gnawed at him. Weak. The word echoed in his mind, ringing like a bell of shame. Denwen hated this feeling. Hated being powerless. Something had to change. He had to change. As he mounted his hover bike, the engine roaring beneath him, he forced himself to push the anger aside¡ªat least for now. He had to think, to plan. And he knew exactly who to seek out. ¡ª- The academy halls had mostly emptied by the time Denwen arrived. The last chime of the school bell had long faded, leaving behind only the distant murmurs of lingering students and the occasional footstep echoing through the grand stone corridors. His destination was clear¡ªMiss Agrona¡¯s office. She was one of the few professors he actually respected. Not just because of her vast knowledge but because she had no bias. No false sympathy. If anyone could give him an actual solution, it was her. Reaching her office door, he knocked once. "Enter." Denwen stepped inside. Miss Agrona was seated behind her desk, adjusting the sleeves of her dark uniform, various ancient tomes and scrolls laid open before her. Her sharp eyes flicked up, locking onto his with piercing intensity. "Denwen," she greeted, her tone neutral but observant. "You look like you have something on your mind." "I need to get stronger." His voice was firm, unwavering. She arched a brow. "Everyone does. What makes you desperate?" Denwen exhaled sharply through his nose, his fingers twitching. "I don¡¯t want to talk about it. But I need something¡ªanything¡ªthat will help me grow stronger without relying solely on my talent. It¡¯s not enough. It never has been." Silence hung between them. Miss Agrona studied him, her gaze unreadable. Then, after a moment, she leaned back in her chair. "There is a way," she admitted. "But it¡¯s dangerous." "I don¡¯t care." "You should." Her voice hardened slightly. "The method I¡¯m thinking of involves forcefully channeling essence through your core. It¡¯s experimental, unpredictable, and incredibly painful. It will push your body beyond its natural limits¡ªbut most people can¡¯t handle it. Their minds break. Their essence pathways collapse. Some never recover." Denwen clenched his fists, the weight of her words sinking in. "I can take it." She exhaled through her nose, then stood. "Very well," she said. "But remember¡ªyou asked for this." ¡ª-- Agrona led him through the academy, past restricted sections that few students ever saw. Eventually, they arrived at a hidden entrance within the stone walls¡ªa sliding panel that revealed a descending staircase. As they stepped inside, the air grew colder, the walls narrowing into a dimly lit passage. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. At the bottom was her lab. It was unlike anything Denwen had imagined. Unlike her usual composed demeanor, the lab was a chaotic mess of alchemy equipment, preserved specimens, vials of glowing liquid, and intricate arrays carved into the floor. The faint hum of arcane energy filled the space, the air thick with the scent of chemicals and something¡­ unnatural. The room felt alive. Denwen¡¯s gaze flicked over a row of floating jars, each containing what looked like preserved organs, pulsing faintly with residual essence. Strange metallic instruments lay scattered on the worktables, some covered in dried blood. It was less of a laboratory and more of a mad scientist¡¯s playground. "Take off your clothes and get on the table," Agrona instructed casually as she moved toward a sink to disinfect her hands. Denwen stiffened. "Wait¡ªwhat?" She glanced over her shoulder, smirking. "Relax, boy. It¡¯s not that kind of procedure. Unless you¡¯re into older women, but I¡¯m afraid you¡¯re a little young for me." Denwen¡¯s face burned red as he quickly averted his gaze. "That¡¯s not¡ª!" "Then hurry up," she said, unbothered, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. He sighed and reluctantly obeyed, stripping to his underclothes before lying face-down on the cold steel examination table. A series of mechanical restraints snapped around his wrists and ankles, locking him in place. He swallowed. "Try not to pass out," she muttered, retrieving a syringe filled with a glowing silver liquid. Denwen barely had time to process her words before the needle pierced his spine. THUMP. THUMP. His heartbeat tripled. A raw, searing fire exploded through his veins, burning from the inside out. It was as if every nerve, every muscle fiber, was being shredded and rebuilt at the same time. Denwen''s back arched violently, his fingers clawing against the restraints. His vision blurred, sweat dripping down his face. Pain. Indescribable. Unrelenting. It was like molten steel being poured into his core, like something inside him was trying to tear free. Agrona watched intently. "Fascinating." His essence surged uncontrollably, threatening to crack his core. The light green color of his essence turned black, churning violently as it struggled against his body¡¯s limits. But then¡ªsomething changed. Agrona''s smirk vanished. The energy in Denwen¡¯s body shifted, inverted¡ªdevouring itself. "Impossible¡­" she whispered. She rushed to place her hand on his back in other to regulate what was happening but her own Rank 3 essence began to siphon into him against her will. The harder she tried to regulate it, the faster it drained. His body was a black hole. "STOP," she commanded, slamming her hand against his back, trying to halt the process. But the core within him absorbed even that. Cracks spread across his skin. Dark essence leaked from his pores, burning away impurities. "Enough!" Agrona snarled. She gathered a burst of essence and forced it into him¡ªdisrupting the absorption. BOOM. The backlash exploded outward, sending her skidding backward. The lab trembled, equipment shattered, and the walls cracked from the force. When the dust settled, a foul, black sludge oozed from Denwen¡¯s body, the scent putrid beyond words. Agrona slowly stood, brushing off debris, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "You¡­" she whispered, stepping forward. "Just what are you?" Denwen¡¯s body, once trembling with strain, now radiated a newfound steadiness. His core¡ªonce damaged and fractured¡ªwas healing. No, not just healing. Changing. ¡ª- "Boy, wake up." Denwen groaned, barely able to pry his heavy eyelids open. Agrona sat beside him, her arms crossed, eyes sharp. He was no longer in the lab but in a clean, sterile room. He was dressed in a medical robe, lying on an actual bed this time. "You¡¯ve been out for a day," she said, tapping his cheek lightly. "Didn¡¯t I tell you not to pass out?" His body ached, but he ignored it. "Did it work?" Agrona rolled her eyes. "No ¡®thank you¡¯? No appreciation for the woman who just kept your core from exploding?" Denwen just stared at her, waiting. She sighed. "The procedure didn¡¯t go as planned. But something¡­ else happened." She let the words sink in before dropping the revelation. "Your talent advanced." Denwen¡¯s eyes widened. "Your core healed itself," Agrona continued, voice laced with intrigue. "And you just jumped from D-grade to C-grade." New Teacher Denwen blinked, his mind still struggling to process Agrona¡¯s words. C-grade. He had spent his entire life shackled to a D-grade core, watching others soar ahead while he clawed desperately for even the smallest progress. And now, in a single night, everything had changed. ¡°What do you mean I¡¯m now a C-grade?¡± Denwen asked, his voice laced with disbelief. Agrona adjusted her glasses, her gaze sharp and thoughtful. ¡°I mean exactly what I said. Your talent has advanced.¡± She crossed her arms. ¡°It¡¯s unheard of, of course. Talent is determined at awakening and is meant to be fixed. But for some reason, your core adapted. Perhaps due to the overwhelming strain, it evolved in the best way possible to ensure your survival.¡± Denwen stared at his hands, flexing his fingers. He felt¡­ different. Stronger. The essence within him no longer sluggish, no longer resisting his control. Agrona continued, her tone now laced with curiosity. ¡°It¡¯s just a hypothesis, but I¡¯d love to put it to the test.¡± Her eyes gleamed in a way that made his skin crawl, like she had just discovered a fascinating new specimen. Denwen immediately scooted back to the farthest edge of the bed, his instincts screaming danger. ¡°Hell no.¡± Agrona smirked, adjusting her sleeves. ¡°That¡¯s too bad.¡± Then, her expression grew serious. ¡°Listen. Although this is good news for you, I strongly advise that you keep this information to yourself. You never know what kind of intentions people have.¡± Denwen nodded, fully understanding her warning. If people learned he had somehow increased his talent rank, there would be questions¡ªdangerous ones. Agrona studied him for another moment, then smiled. ¡°Hmmm, first you have an odd physiology, and now your core is unusual as well¡­ I think I know just the right sort of lesson you need.¡± She turned and walked towards the door. ¡°Wait, I need to change.¡± ¡°There¡¯s a compartment in the wall with your uniform. Put it on and catch up.¡± She waved him off as she left. Denwen exhaled, then sat up, taking a moment to scan himself internally. His essence pool had expanded significantly¡ªa full 20% increase. Combined with his refined control, this meant he could finally meet the evaluation requirements. He clenched his fist. Now we¡¯re getting somewhere. ¡ª- A Different Kind of Training Agrona led him through the academy¡¯s corridors, past the regular training halls and into a different section¡ªone he had never visited before. The atmosphere shifted as they entered, the usual chatter of students replaced by the rhythmic sounds of battle. The scent of sweat, polished wood, and sharpened steel filled the air. They stopped before the entrance to a massive open dojo. Inside, students sparred on wooden platforms, their movements sharp and disciplined. Training dummies lined the far wall, some reinforced with enchanted metals, others wrapped in thick layers of leather. At the center stood a towering figure with broad shoulders, his skin marred by old battle scars. His amber eyes flickered with authority, scanning the room like a predator observing his domain. ¡°Vorden,¡± Agrona called out. The man turned, his gaze landing on Denwen. He exuded strength¡ªnot just physical but a deep, disciplined kind honed over decades. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Hm?¡± His voice was deep and rough, like stone grinding against steel. ¡°Who¡¯s this?¡± ¡°A student eager to learn,¡± Agrona replied. Vorden studied Denwen, his sharp gaze scanning him from head to toe. His expression remained unreadable. "Name?" "Denwen." Vorden grunted. ¡°Hmph. You¡¯ve got the build, but that doesn¡¯t mean anything.¡± His eyes flickered toward Agrona. ¡°You know I don¡¯t take just anyone.¡± Agrona smirked. ¡°You¡¯ll find this one interesting soon enough.¡± She tapped Denwen¡¯s shoulder confidently. Vorden stared at her for a long moment before sighing. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll do this as a favor to you.¡± He turned back to Denwen. ¡°But if he¡¯s not worth my time, he¡¯s out.¡± Denwen swallowed, standing his ground. ¡°Good. Follow me.¡± Vorden stepped onto the combat mat in the center of the dojo, his voice booming. ¡°Class is over. Make sure you practice today¡¯s lesson, or you¡¯ll bleed for it tomorrow.¡± ¡°YES, SIR!¡± the students responded in unison, bowing before quickly exiting. Now alone with Denwen, Vorden studied him again. ¡°Do you know why she brought you here?¡± Denwen nodded. ¡°To learn how to fight with my body.¡± Vorden chuckled. ¡°Smart kid.¡± He walked over to a weapons rack, picking up a longsword. ¡°Many people rely on weapons for their strength. Swords, spears, bows, magic¡ªyou name it. They all have their uses.¡± He gripped the sword in one hand and swung it downward, burying the blade deep into the floor. The sheer force of the impact sent cracks spider webbing across the dojo¡¯s wooden panels. ¡°But let me ask you something,¡± Vorden continued. ¡°What happens when you lose your weapon? When it breaks? When the enemy disarms you?¡± He released the hilt, stepping back. Then, in a single motion, he smashed his fist down on the embedded sword¡ªshattering the steel into shards. Denwen¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Why would you put your life in something so fragile?¡± Vorden asked, his voice calm but firm. He stepped closer, his imposing frame looming over Denwen. ¡°The strongest body is sharper than the sharpest sword. It hits harder than the mightiest hammer. It strikes with more precision than the fastest arrows. And when trained properly, it cannot be taken from you.¡± Denwen clenched his fists. The words struck a chord deep within him. He thought back to the Ironhide Chief. If he had been strong enough, if his strikes had been absolute, would the monster have stood back up? The answer was clear. No. Vorden¡¯s gaze remained steady. ¡°Can you channel essence through your body?¡± Denwen hesitated before nodding. He had felt a change since the experiment. His circuits were clearer, his essence responding faster. ¡°Good,¡± Vorden said. ¡°Otherwise, I would¡¯ve sent you straight back to Agrona.¡± He led Denwen toward a towering stone pillar at the edge of the room. A red mark was etched at its center. ¡°This is a testing apparatus,¡± Vorden explained. ¡°It measures the force of a strike. I use it to separate those worth training from those who are wasting my time.¡± He gestured to the pillar. ¡°All you have to do is channel your essence and hit that red mark with everything you¡¯ve got.¡± Vorden casually tapped the red mark with the back of his hand. The numbers on the pillar¡¯s display rapidly climbed to 250. Denwen¡¯s jaw nearly dropped. ¡°That¡¯s the standard for a trained warrior,¡± Vorden said, stepping aside. ¡°Now, let¡¯s see what you¡¯ve got.¡± Denwen took a deep breath, focusing on his core. He could feel the difference¡ªthe refined flow, the increased density of his essence. It moved through him smoothly, empowering his muscles. He struck. The impact sent a sharp shock up his arm. The pillar vibrated slightly. Denwen stepped back, eager to see the number. 35. Silence. His excitement shattered instantly. He had expected at least half of Vorden¡¯s score. Vorden shook his head slightly, making Denwen look away in shame. But then, the man clapped a hand on his shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t look so damn dejected. You pass.¡± Denwen blinked. ¡°I¡­ pass?¡± Vorden smirked. ¡°That was a hell of a punch for a rank one. Most can¡¯t even break 20.¡± Denwen exhaled in relief. Meanwhile, Vorden kept his true thoughts hidden. What the hell? Normal rank ones barely hit 20 on that meter. He glanced at the boy. Agrona, what kind of monster have you uncovered? Relentless Training Denwen¡¯s world became one of sweat, blood, and pain. Every day, from dawn until the dead of night, he trained with a desperation that bordered on madness. He had no choice. He had to utilize his new talent to the max. The memory of Garric¡¯s smirk, the weight of those pathetic silvers in his palm, and the shame of being sidelined as a mere porter gnawed at him like a parasite. He refused to be weak. So he trained. ¡ª- The special gym was nothing special¡ªa bland room with nothing but a few pieces of equipment and a large mat in the centre. A heavy sandbag hung from chains, barely holding together, yet it was enough. He wrapped his fists in rough cloth, not even bothering with proper gear. Each punch slammed into the bag with force, the impact rattling through his bones. Again. And again. And again. Until his knuckles split open, skin tearing, blood seeping into the coarse fabric. When the pain became unbearable, he grit his teeth and struck harder. Vorden watched silently from the shadows, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. He never interrupted, never offered encouragement¡ªonly observed. Denwen didn¡¯t care. He wasn¡¯t doing this for anyone but himself.
The training intensified. His morning routine consisted of early morning cultivation, running through the scorching sands outside the academy, barefoot, his feet torn and blistered. But the real challenge came next. A steel cauldron filled with burning-hot sand sat before him. With no hesitation, he plunged his fingers inside. The heat seared his skin instantly, the agony clawing up his arms, but he didn¡¯t pull away. He forced his fingers to move, clenching and unclenching his fists within the searing grains. It felt like his bones were snapping. And sometimes, they did. Crack. The pain was unbearable. But he had read once¡ªpain was just weakness leaving the body. He embraced it, let it consume him, let it mold him into something stronger. Vorden finally spoke, his voice calm yet firm. "You''re breaking yourself faster than you''re improving." Denwen panted, sweat pouring down his face as he withdrew his trembling hands from the burning sand. His fingers were red, raw, some even dislocated. "Then I¡¯ll just heal faster," he muttered, popping a finger back into place with a sharp wince. "I don¡¯t have the luxury of pacing myself." Vorden stared for a moment before exhaling. He didn¡¯t argue. ¡ª Back in the Fang Guild, his previous team was out of the question. He refused to work under them again. Instead, he took on solo missions¡ªlow-risk, low-reward, but enough to survive. Collection tasks, resource gathering, corpse retrieval¡ªjobs no one wanted. It didn¡¯t pay well, but cumulatively, it was enough. He avoided team missions. The last experience had been enough to show him that relying on others was a fool¡¯s game. His first few missions were simple: hunting weak disasters, scavenging abandoned ruins, escorting minor merchants. They weren¡¯t lucrative, but they provided a steady stream of income. Every coin earned went into buying cores. Every core was consumed, feeding his growth. The improvement was slow¡ªfrustratingly so. But it was still progress. ¡ª-- The dojo was nearly empty now, the last echoes of sparring matches and footfalls fading into silence. Dim lanterns cast long shadows across the polished wooden floor, reflecting the sweat that dripped from Denwen¡¯s brow. His breath came in steady but heavy exhales, his muscles aching from another grueling session with Vorden. At the entrance, Kara leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, her sharp eyes locked onto him. In one hand, she held a towel; in the other, a bottle of chilled water, condensation dripping down its sleek surface. "You really are pushing yourself, huh?" she said, her voice light but tinged with something else¡ªsomething just shy of concern. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. Denwen exhaled deeply before taking the water from her hand. "Come on, this is the only way I can truly catch up with you guys," he said, tilting his head back to take large gulps, the cool liquid soothing his parched throat. Kara didn¡¯t respond immediately. Instead, she stepped forward and lightly pressed the towel against his forehead, dabbing away the sweat. Her touch was brief¡ªalmost dismissive¡ªbut the small gesture made his grip tighten around the bottle for just a second. "That being said," she continued, her tone shifting, "I¡¯ve noticed you¡¯ve been visiting Professor Agrona¡¯s office a lot these past few weeks." Her golden eyes studied him carefully, searching for something beneath the surface. Denwen lowered the bottle, swallowing the last bit of water. "Well¡­ she took an interest in me a while back and later introduced me to Vorden for training," he said, flashing a small smile¡ªone that didn¡¯t quite reach his eyes. Kara didn¡¯t miss the slight hesitation in his words, the way he smiled just a little too quickly. She knew him well enough to sense when he was holding something back. "You sure that¡¯s all it is?" she asked, her voice deceptively casual. Denwen blinked. "What else would it be?" For a moment, Kara just stared at him, the dojo¡¯s silence stretching between them. Then she exhaled, shaking her head lightly. "Nothing," she muttered, stepping back and tossing the towel onto his shoulder. But the look in her eyes lingered, and Denwen could tell¡ªshe didn¡¯t like being left in the dark. "Just¡­ don¡¯t overdo it," she added, turning toward the exit. "Training¡¯s good, but don¡¯t forget to breathe." He watched as she walked away, the tension in her shoulders subtle but unmistakable. Denwen exhaled, rolling the water bottle between his fingers. ¡°She doesn¡¯t trust me¡±. ¡ª-- In an alley Far away from the Academy, The alley reeked of damp filth and decay, the moonlight barely piercing through the thick, suffocating fog that clung to the abandoned street. Cracked cobblestones lay uneven beneath his feet, splattered with his own blood¡ªthick, dark streaks trailing behind him like a signature of his impending death. Elric''s breaths came in ragged gasps, his chest heaving as he pushed his failing body forward. Every step sent sharp daggers of pain up his shattered leg, but he didn¡¯t stop. He couldn¡¯t stop. His left arm dangled uselessly at his side, twisted unnaturally from the brutal fall he had taken earlier. His once-pristine coat was now soaked in blood, torn open by gashes across his ribs, his shoulder, his thigh¡ªeach wound leaking life with every second. He turned another corner, nearly stumbling as his boots splashed through a murky puddle. The flickering light of a broken street lamp illuminated the holographic screen on his wrist, the numbers crawling upward¡ª92% uploaded. "Not fast enough." ¡°Come on¡­ just a little more,¡± he gritted through clenched teeth. But he knew¡ªat this pace, they were going to catch up. He pressed a trembling hand against the alley wall, forcing himself forward. Then he heard it. The sound of footsteps. Slow. Measured. Unhurried. They didn¡¯t need to run. They knew he was done. Elric turned his head, his vision swimming from blood loss, and caught the faintest shimmer of movement at the alley¡¯s entrance. Dark figures, draped in long, tattered cloaks, faces obscured by shadowed hoods. Their presence felt¡­ wrong. Unnatural. They made no sound beyond their footsteps, no visible weapons drawn, yet the air itself seemed to tighten around them, pressing against Elric¡¯s already labored breathing. "They¡¯re here." Panic surged in his chest as he scanned for an escape¡ªanother turn, another alley¡ªanything. He forced himself forward, ignoring the searing pain that wracked his body. But when he reached the end of the block, his heart sank. A dead end. His bloodied fingers curled into a fist. Five separate passages stretched outward, leading to potential freedom¡ªbut before he could even take a step, more figures emerged from the darkness, blocking every exit. One by one, they stepped forward, their faceless hoods turning in eerie unison to face him. Trapped. Elric clenched his jaw. 93% uploaded. A deep, velvety voice echoed through the alley, almost amused. ¡°Elric¡­¡± The spy stiffened as one of the hooded figures took a step forward, the others standing eerily still. Unlike the rest, this one radiated authority¡ªa quiet, suffocating presence that coiled around Elric like unseen tendrils. ¡°Looks like you truly are at the end of your road,¡± the figure mused, voice devoid of urgency. ¡°Why not make this easy and hand over your findings? Maybe, just maybe, we¡¯ll consider sparing you.¡± Elric let out a breathless laugh, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. ¡°Spare me?¡± He spat onto the ground. ¡°You mean¡ªturn me into one of those things.¡± His grip on his ruined arm tightened. ¡°Not a fucking chance.¡± A sigh. "You really were a solid member," the figure said, almost sounding disappointed. ¡°You were even being considered for a promotion. But it¡¯s a shame¡ªyou turned out to be a spy.¡± The voice darkened, amusement fading. ¡°Still, if you convert now¡­ perhaps your blunder will be forgiven.¡± Elric exhaled, his lips curling into a grim smile. He let his head hang for a second, his body trembling¡ªnot from fear, but from acceptance. He lifted his good hand, fingers twitching as heat pulsed through them. Slowly, the warmth spread, igniting the air around his palm. A flickering ember. Then a flame. Then a roaring inferno. "You already know my answer to that," he said, firelight reflecting in his weary eyes. The figures remained motionless, the oppressive silence stretching. Elric took a slow step forward, his last step forward. And then, without hesitation¡ªhe charged. Suspicion The steady hum of essence-powered mechanisms filled the dojo, accompanied by the low whirring of three mechanical training puppets. Their alloy frames gleamed under the soft glow of the overhead lights, their essence cores pulsing faintly within their chests. Each one stood in a different stance, their postures reflecting distinct martial disciplines¡ªone was a swift and precise striker, another a brutal grappler, and the last a fluid evasive fighter. Denwen exhaled, his muscles coiling like a compressed spring. Three at once. This was new. Vorden leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, watching closely. ¡°I¡¯ve increased their strength and speed to the peak of rank one,¡± he said casually. ¡°Since you¡¯ve been making scrap metal out of single puppets, I figured I¡¯d make things more interesting.¡± Denwen rolled his shoulders, eyeing his opponents. This wasn¡¯t just a test of strength¡ªit was a test of survival. Three enemies at once meant that brute force alone wouldn¡¯t cut it. If he allowed them to coordinate their attacks, he¡¯d be overwhelmed in an instant. His only option? Outthink them. The puppets moved. Clank. Whir. The striker lunged first, its metal feet barely making a sound as it shot forward with lightning speed. Its body twisted mid-air, sending a devastating spinning kick toward Denwen¡¯s ribs. Denwen¡¯s instincts screamed. He barely sidestepped in time, the force of the kick ripping through the air where he had just been standing. The moment his feet touched the ground, the grappler moved in, aiming to close the distance. Denwen had studied this one before. Its movements were deceptive¡ªslow at first, but relentless once it got a grip. If it got a hold of him, it wouldn¡¯t let go until his bones cracked. It lunged, hands outstretched. Denwen didn¡¯t retreat. He moved forward. At the last moment, he twisted his body, using the puppet¡¯s own momentum against it. His arm shot out, grabbing its wrist and pulling it into the striker¡¯s range. Boom! The striker¡¯s next kick slammed straight into the grappler¡¯s side. The impact sent the grappler staggering, its balance momentarily thrown off. Denwen didn¡¯t hesitate. He moved. He dashed toward the evasive fighter, the last remaining puppet that had yet to engage. It was different from the others¡ªits stance was loose, fluid, constantly shifting like a predator waiting for an opening. Denwen faked a right jab. The puppet reacted instantly, twisting away from the strike. But that was exactly what Denwen wanted. He had studied this one too. It was programmed to dodge rather than block, prioritizing evasion over counterattacks. That meant its weak point wasn¡¯t in its defense¡ªit was in its recovery. Denwen had already shifted before it could stabilize. He shot his leg out in a sweeping kick, catching its foot mid-step. Clang! The evasive fighter collapsed, its balance completely destroyed. Two left. The grappler had recovered from the accidental hit and was moving in again, its metallic limbs clicking into place as it prepared to grab him. The striker was already repositioning, waiting for a clean shot. Denwen¡¯s mind worked at full speed. If he attacked the striker, the grappler would grab him. If he focused on the grappler, the striker would land a decisive blow. It was a trap. So he did something unexpected. He attacked neither. Instead, Denwen dashed backward. His heel skidded against the floor, leading both puppets toward the fallen evasive fighter. He then pivoted suddenly, shifting his direction at the last second. The striker had been mid-motion, preparing a powerful kick. But instead of striking Denwen, its attack landed directly on the evasive fighter as it was getting up. Boom! The evasive puppet went flying, crashing into the dojo wall. Its circuits sparked violently before going completely dark. One down. Denwen turned to the remaining two, sweat beading on his forehead. His breath was steady, but the fight was far from over. The striker adjusted its stance. The grappler flexed its fingers. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Denwen exhaled. Two left. The striker made the first move again, darting toward him with inhuman speed. This time, it didn¡¯t jump¡ªinstead, it feinted low, attempting to bait Denwen into dodging the wrong way. Denwen saw through it. Instead of dodging outward, he moved inward, closing the gap instead of creating distance. The striker¡¯s kick missed by a hair, but Denwen was already reacting. He twisted, his elbow driving into the puppet¡¯s knee joint. Crack! The striker¡¯s leg buckled under the impact. The damage wasn¡¯t fatal, but it was enough. Denwen followed up immediately, driving a brutal kick into its chest. Boom! The puppet slammed into the floor, its core flickering violently before shutting down. Two down. Only the grappler remained. Unlike the others, the grappler didn¡¯t hesitate. It charged straight at him. Denwen clenched his fists. This one was built differently¡ªit didn¡¯t rely on technique, only overwhelming force. Even with all his skill, one wrong move and he¡¯d be caught in a hold he couldn¡¯t break free from. So he didn¡¯t let it get close. The moment it lunged, Denwen sidestepped just enough to avoid its grasp. Then, he slammed his knee into its elbow joint. Crack! The grappler¡¯s arm snapped backward at an unnatural angle. But even with a broken arm, it still kept moving. Denwen clicked his tongue. ¡°Stubborn.¡± The grappler lunged again, forcing Denwen onto the defensive. He dodged, ducked, and weaved through its relentless grabs, waiting for the right moment¡ªthen he saw it. The grappler¡¯s legs. Unlike its arms, they weren¡¯t as reinforced. If he took them out¡ª Denwen spun, driving a brutal kick into the back of its knee. The grappler collapsed. Before it could recover, Denwen struck again and again, his fists pounding against its exposed core. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! The final hit sent the puppet crashing onto its back, sparks flying from its circuits. Silence. Denwen exhaled, shaking off the numbness in his knuckles. He expected some praise, maybe even an approving nod from Vorden. But instead, he found the instructor staring at him with sharp, calculating eyes. ¡°Something wrong?¡± Denwen asked, feigning ignorance. Vorden said nothing for a moment, then clicked his tongue. ¡°Your growth rate is unnatural.¡± Denwen wiped the sweat from his forehead. ¡°I train hard.¡± Vorden narrowed his eyes. ¡°Hard work doesn¡¯t explain how a so-called D-grade talent is already outpacing peak-rank-one training puppets." Denwen felt the air grow heavier. This was dangerous. Over the past few weeks, Vorden had been testing him, pushing him in ways that seemed less about training and more about evaluation. The man wasn¡¯t just observing his strength¡ªhe was measuring it. A bad sign. Denwen knew that if someone like Vorden truly suspected him of lying about his talent, things could escalate beyond mere training. At best, he¡¯d be forced into public scrutiny. At worst? He¡¯d be labeled a threat. Vorden took a step forward, his eyes still locked onto Denwen. ¡°Stay still for a moment,¡± he said. ¡°I want to check something.¡± Denwen¡¯s heartbeat slowed. This wasn¡¯t a simple examination. He knew how talent checks worked¡ªsome could detect subtle essence fluctuations, measuring whether someone¡¯s talent was truly what it seemed. Others, particularly those experienced with soul readings, could bypass superficial grades entirely. Denwen wouldn¡¯t let that happen. As Vorden reached out, Denwen shifted slightly, adjusting his posture in a way that forced Vorden¡¯s hand toward his shoulder instead of his core. The moment contact was made, Denwen channeled a faint pulse of essence, subtly disrupting the flow between them. It was a risky move¡ªbut necessary. Vorden¡¯s eyes flickered. His brow furrowed slightly, and for a moment, Denwen thought he might have noticed something. Then, with a small shake of his head, Vorden withdrew his hand. ¡°Never mind,¡± he muttered. ¡°Maybe I¡¯m overthinking things.¡± Denwen relaxed inwardly but kept his expression neutral. Vorden sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. ¡°Regardless, those training puppets aren¡¯t cutting it anymore. At this rate, you¡¯ll be breaking them every damn session.¡± He turned toward the storage room, muttering something under his breath before glancing back. ¡°Forget the puppets. You¡¯re training with me from now on.¡± Denwen raised an eyebrow. ¡°You¡¯re replacing mechanical enemies with yourself? That seems reckless.¡± Vorden smirked. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry¡ªI¡¯m not about to hold back just because you¡¯re a student.¡± He cracked his knuckles. ¡°You¡¯ve already learned four distinct martial arts under me, yeah?¡± Denwen nodded. ¡°Good. Then it¡¯s time I introduce you to something different¡ªBrawler Arts.¡± The name alone made Denwen instinctively straighten his posture. Vorden stepped forward, his stance shifting in an instant. Unlike the precise, measured positions of traditional martial arts, this one was¡­ wild. It had a looseness to it¡ªyet despite the lack of rigid form, it felt refined, efficient, deadly. ¡°Martial arts are structured,¡± Vorden said. ¡°Each has rules, techniques, foundations that define them. But in a real fight? Rules don¡¯t mean shit.¡± He stepped forward and threw a casual jab at Denwen. Denwen dodged¡ªbut barely. The speed was deceptive. Way faster than before. Vorden grinned. ¡°Brawler Arts take the best elements of multiple martial arts and combine them into something unpredictable. It doesn¡¯t rely on set movements¡ªit adapts. The more styles you know, the more dangerous it becomes.¡± Denwen narrowed his eyes. ¡°So it¡¯s just a mix of everything?¡± ¡°No.¡± Vorden suddenly lunged. Denwen instinctively blocked, but the moment he raised his arms, Vorden¡¯s attack changed. Instead of following through with a strike, he used the momentum to spin, bringing his knee straight toward Denwen¡¯s ribs. Denwen barely twisted away in time, but the sheer force grazed him, sending a sharp sting through his side. Vorden straightened, smirking. ¡°See? If that had been a normal martial art, you¡¯d have predicted the next move. But this? This is designed to be unreadable.¡± Denwen rubbed his ribs, already calculating how such an unpredictable style could be countered. Vorden clapped his hands together. ¡°Normally, I wouldn¡¯t even think about teaching this until someone¡¯s mastered at least four different arts to a high level. But¡­¡± He grinned, stepping back into stance. ¡°Fuck it. A genius will always be a genius.¡± Breakthrough The cultivation chamber was silent, save for the soft hum of essence swirling in the air. The room, designed to amplify focus and isolate distractions, was dimly lit by the soft green glow of essence crystals embedded in the walls. The air was thick with energy, pulsating in rhythm with the steady breathing of the lone figure sitting in the center. Denwen sat cross-legged, his body bare from the waist up, revealing a frame that had grown leaner yet stronger over the past weeks of relentless training. His eyes were closed, his hands resting on his knees, and in his palm lay a single Verdant Core Pendant, pulsing faintly in sync with his breath. Around him, scattered essence cores sat cracked and dimmed, drained of their power. He had spent the last few days ensuring his body was saturated with essence, refining every last trace of energy within him in preparation for this moment. A breakthrough was not something to be rushed. If he failed, the consequences would be disastrous. Denwen exhaled slowly, his breath steady and deep. He could feel the essence within his body, coiled like a tightly wound spring, waiting to be compressed, refined, and pushed beyond its current limits. Mid Rank One. He had long since reached the peak of Low Rank One. His mastery over essence channeling to external objects had been refined with the help of the Verdant Core Pendant, allowing him to strengthen weapons, extend his attacks, and even manipulate essence beyond his own body. But that wasn¡¯t enough. If he wanted to stand against real threats¡ªmonsters, disasters, even the unknown dangers lurking in the shadows¡ªhe needed more. And so, with a final deep breath, Denwen began. ¡ª Denwen withdrew all the essence within his body, pulling it away from his limbs, his muscles, his very nerves. Instantly, a numbing sensation spread through his body. His fingers, his arms, his legs¡ªeverything began to feel disconnected, as if he were floating within his own skin. His heartbeat slowed, his breathing became shallow, and his awareness narrowed to a single point within him¡ª His core. At the center of his being, where all his essence resided, a swirling light green mass of energy pulsed and churned. This was his foundation, his very source of power. The process had begun. Denwen focused, drawing every last trace of essence from his body into his core. The light green mist that had once flowed freely through his body now gathered into a dense, liquid-like sphere. This was the most dangerous part. The essence had to be compressed. Denwen¡¯s mind sharpened, his will locking onto the swirling mass within him. He began applying pressure, forcing the energy to shrink, to compact, to refine itself beyond its previous limits. His breath hitched. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. The moment the compression began, pain flared through his body. A deep, internal ache, like his very soul was being squeezed. This was the true danger of breaking through. If he lost focus¡ª**if he allowed the compression to falter even slightly¡ª**his core would destabilize. And if his core collapsed¡­ Denwen gritted his teeth. Failure was not an option. The essence within him shrank, its vibrant light green glow darkening ever so slightly. Sweat dripped down Denwen¡¯s brow. His body remained completely numb, as if he were nothing but a husk. All his senses, all his awareness, were locked onto his core. The swirling energy twisted and churned, resisting the compression. Denwen pushed harder. A sharp jolt of pain ran through him. His core shuddered, resisting the transformation. For a brief moment, doubt threatened to creep into his mind. What if he wasn¡¯t ready? What if his foundation wasn¡¯t strong enough? No. He crushed those thoughts immediately. There was no turning back now. He applied even more force. The essence within him twisted violently, writhing as it condensed further, its color shifting from light green to a deeper shade¡ªan emerald hue. He was close. His core trembled, the compression nearing completion. Denwen¡¯s breath came in ragged gasps. Every fiber of his being screamed in protest. Just a little more. He clenched his fists, focusing all his willpower into the final push. The core shrank further. Emerald green. Then¡ª BOOM. A silent explosion erupted within him. A wave of power surged outward, flooding his limbs, rushing back into his nerves, his muscles, his veins. His body roared to life. The numbness was instantly replaced by an overwhelming rush of energy. Denwen gasped, his eyes snapping open. His skin tingled, his senses sharpened to an almost painful degree, and the once-dormant power within him now burned like an untamed fire. He had done it. Mid Rank One. He exhaled, his breath slow and controlled, but his lips curled into a satisfied smile. The path forward had just widened. ¡ª- Elsewhere¡­ The air inside the control room was thick with tension. Dim screens flickered across the walls, displaying streams of data, maps, and incoming transmissions. The room was filled with officers in uniform, their faces grim, their eyes locked onto a single holographic projection hovering in the center of the room. A video message from a certain spy. A final, desperate transmission from a fallen spy. A woman with sharp features and piercing amber eyes leaned forward, her gaze locked onto the decrypted message. The contents scrolled rapidly before her, revealing words that made her chest tighten. ¡°Elric¡± she muttered his name softly as her fingers twitched. ¡°¡­So that¡¯s what they¡¯re doing.¡± A long silence followed. The officers around her exchanged wary glances. None dared to speak first. Finally, the woman straightened, inhaling sharply before turning to the nearest operator. ¡°Send this directly to the Duke,¡± she ordered, her voice unwavering. ¡°This isn¡¯t something we can ignore.¡± The operator hesitated. ¡°Ma¡¯am¡­ does that mean Elric didn¡¯t make it?¡± The woman¡¯s jaw tightened. ¡°¡­No. He didn¡¯t. But he succeeded, and we won¡¯t waste this chance. This is the first time we have gotten something this critical before it escalated¡± Another heavy silence. She turned away, staring at the screen one last time. Elric, the spy, had given everything¡ªhis life, his last breath¡ªto deliver this warning. And now, the weight of that truth rested in her hands. Her fingers clenched into fists. ¡°We move immediately.¡± Proud Masters The air inside the academy¡¯s grand combat hall was electric with anticipation. Hundreds of students lined the stands, their whispers a dull hum against the sounds of clashing weapons and rapid footwork. On the elevated sparring platform, two figures stood at the center of it all¡ªRoy and Denwen. The former held his signature wooden swords, their edges worn from continuous use, yet still firm in his hands. The latter stood with bandaged fists, his knuckles already stained with fresh blood from the relentless exchange. They were battered. Bruised. Gasping for air. Yet, the fire in their eyes refused to fade. On the observation deck, Principal Dvalin and Instructor Vorden stood side by side, arms crossed, watching the fight unfold like proud sculptors admiring their finest work. ¡°You¡¯ve really outdone yourself, Vorden,¡± Dvalin admitted, his gruff voice tinged with admiration as he stroked his long dwarven beard. Vorden chuckled, shaking his head. ¡°I think you¡¯re giving me too much credit, Principal. Besides, you¡¯re the one training the A-grade prodigy. The rest of us are just babysitting the scraps compared to that.¡± He waved a dismissive hand, but the smugness in his tone was impossible to miss. Dvalin, however, didn¡¯t share the sentiment. His sharp gaze flickered toward Denwen, who had just sidestepped an overhead strike, weaving through Roy¡¯s guard with unnerving precision. With a well-timed twist, he parried the sword away with a brutal forearm block, then delivered a devastating counterpunch to Roy¡¯s chest. The impact sent Roy skidding backward, his boots dragging lines into the platform. He coughed, momentarily winded. Denwen smirked, rolling his wrists. ¡°Come on, bro. Is this all an A-grade talent is worth?¡± Laughter echoed through the hall as Roy wiped blood from the corner of his mouth. He didn¡¯t look offended. If anything, he looked more excited. ¡°Hah! That¡¯s more like it!¡± he bellowed. ¡°Bring it on, then!¡± Discarding his now-splintered sword, he grabbed a fresh one from the weapons rack at the edge of the platform and lunged back in, his movements sharper, faster. Back on the observation deck, Vorden¡¯s lips curled into an unmistakable grin of pride. ¡°Look at that,¡± he said, voice rich with satisfaction. ¡°That kid picked up Brawler Arts like it was nothing. Not just the stance, but the flow, the movement¡ªthe instinct. He¡¯s barely had a month with it, yet he¡¯s already using it to challenge your golden boy.¡± Dvalin narrowed his eyes, genuinely surprised now. ¡°Wait, you¡¯re telling me he learned Brawler Arts that fast?¡± Vorden shrugged, arms folded. ¡°Not only learned it. Mastered the basics. The last time I saw someone grasp it this quickly¡­ well, let¡¯s just say they weren¡¯t a D-grade.¡± Dvalin exhaled, shaking his head. ¡°Sigh¡­ If that kid had awakened a better talent, he¡¯d be even more of a monster than he is now.¡± Vorden chuckled. ¡°Funny thing is, the world doesn¡¯t care about ¡®ifs.¡¯ He¡¯s stuck as a D-grade forever.¡± Dvalin didn¡¯t respond immediately. His gaze lingered on Denwen, watching him weave through Roy¡¯s relentless strikes with frightening efficiency. ¡°¡­Then why,¡± he muttered, ¡°has a D-grade become the second strongest in his entire year? And why does it feel like¡ª¡± Before he could finish, Denwen drove a knee into Roy¡¯s gut, forcing the A-grade genius to double over for a split second. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. That split second was all Denwen needed. BAM! A crushing elbow strike slammed against Roy¡¯s ribs, sending him stumbling. Vorden smirked. ¡°Like I said. The world doesn¡¯t care about ¡®ifs.¡¯¡± Dvalin sighed, glancing at his colleague. ¡°You said Agrona was the one who introduced you to this kid?¡± Vorden¡¯s expression darkened slightly. ¡°¡­Yeah. She just brought him to me one day. No real backstory. No real explanations.¡± Dvalin stroked his beard. ¡°I¡¯ve run multiple background checks on him. Everything about his history seems¡­ too clean.¡± ¡°You think something¡¯s off?¡± Dvalin didn¡¯t answer immediately. His eyes drifted downward, watching the fight unfold. ¡°¡­Something doesn¡¯t add up,¡± he muttered. Vorden sighed. ¡°There¡¯s that, yeah¡­ but at the end of the day, I was skeptical at first too. But the kid¡¯s a gem. I stopped caring where he came from. Besides, with his talent, the most he¡¯ll ever reach is Mid Rank 3. There¡¯s nothing to be afraid of.¡± Dvalin wasn¡¯t so sure. ¡°That¡¯s a fair assumption. But we still need to be careful, especially now that Emberfall is becoming more active.¡± Vorden¡¯s expression shifted. His arms uncrossed, his fingers clenching into a fist. A faint shockwave pulsed from his hand. ¡°I heard about the attack on Flendon. The people they slaughtered. The lives lost¡­¡± His voice hardened. ¡°I dare them to try something here. I¡¯ll crush them with my own hands.¡±
Meanwhile, in the stands¡­ Angus sat stiffly, his fists clenched. His knuckles had turned white from how hard he was squeezing. He watched as Denwen¡ªa mere D-grade¡ªstood toe-to-toe with Roy. Each exchange, each clash, burned him with frustration. ¡°¡­I don¡¯t get it,¡± he muttered under his breath. ¡°Such a shame, isn¡¯t it?¡± He tensed. Melissa. She approached him slowly, her arms crossed, her tone dripping with sarcasm. ¡°A mere D-grade catching up to us B-grades in cultivation¡­ even surpassing us in some areas. It¡¯s almost like fate mocked us by giving us a head start we didn¡¯t even need.¡± ¡°Melissa, not now,¡± Angus grumbled. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t be so grumpy,¡± she teased. Then, in a more serious tone, she nodded toward Roy. ¡°You know, the only reason Roy is dominating the fight now is because he broke into Peak Rank 1 a week ago. The fastest in academy history.¡± ¡°¡­Do you think he¡¯ll do it?¡± ¡°Do what?¡± ¡°Break the record. Become the first Rank 2.¡± Melissa thought for a moment, then sighed. ¡°Given that the semester evaluation is in a week, I doubt it. But this is Roy. He keeps throwing surprises in our faces.¡± Angus stood abruptly. ¡°Where are you going?¡± ¡°I need to prepare my own surprise.¡± Melissa raised an eyebrow but didn¡¯t stop him. She simply sighed, shaking her head before turning her attention back to the fight. ¡ª-- Back on the platform¡­ Denwen and Roy stood on opposite ends, panting heavily. ¡°¡­Time to finish this with a bang, don¡¯t you think?¡± Roy smirked, his emerald-green aura darkening slightly as he channeled his true Peak Rank 1 essence into his wooden sword. The sword trembled, cracks forming under the sheer pressure. Denwen felt the power. It made him sweat. But he didn¡¯t buckle. His own emerald-green aura flared, wrapping around his body. His stance shifted¡ªBrawler Arts. Roy¡¯s grip tightened. Denwen exhaled. Both combatants cleared their minds. Then¡ªthey moved. A final clash. A loud bang. They stood frozen for a moment, backs facing each other. Roy glanced at his fractured wrist. ¡°¡­Good hit, bro.¡± Denwen said nothing. He collapsed. Blood trickled from a deep gash down his chest to his abdomen. The medics rushed in. From a hidden corner of the hall, Agrona watched. She smiled. Then, without a word, she turned and walked away. Expectations Inside a dimly lit private training chamber, Angus knelt on the cold stone floor, his sweat mixing with the blood dripping from his split lips. His training tracksuit was torn in several places, his body lined with fresh welts and bruises, each one evidence of his repeated failures. The man standing before him was none other than Instructor Dorne, a veteran combat trainer known for his merciless discipline. His sharp, hawk-like eyes gleamed with disdain, and in his hand, he held a thick, black leather belt¡ªstained with blood from repeated use. Crack! The belt whipped across Angus'' exposed back, the force of the impact sending a sickening sound through the room. Angus gritted his teeth, his nails digging into the ground, but he didn¡¯t scream¡ªhe wouldn¡¯t give the man that satisfaction. But Dorne wasn¡¯t finished. Another strike. Then another. And another. The leather bit into Angus'' skin like the fangs of a starving beast, each blow leaving behind deep red welts that throbbed with unbearable pain. ¡°You worthless disgrace.¡± Dorne¡¯s voice was calm but layered with raw disappointment. He circled Angus slowly, like a predator inspecting its wounded prey. ¡°Do you have any idea how much your parents have sacrificed for you?¡± Crack! Another lash. This time, the pain was so sharp Angus instinctively gasped, his body lurching forward slightly before he caught himself. ¡°Do you know how much they''ve invested in you?¡± Dorne continued, his tone sharpening. ¡°A B-grade talent. A gift that should have placed you among the elites. A talent that should have made you untouchable.¡± He came to a stop in front of Angus, staring down at him with pure disgust. ¡°And yet¡ª¡± Crack! Angus flinched violently as the belt struck across his chest, opening fresh wounds over old bruises. He gasped for air, his body trembling, but still, he held himself together. Dorne leaned in, his voice a venomous whisper. ¡°You let a D-grade catch up to you.¡± Angus¡¯ breath hitched. Crack! This time, the force of the strike sent him sprawling onto the floor. His body convulsed in pain, muscles twitching as he gripped his ribs, where the belt had landed hardest. He felt like he was suffocating. Dorne exhaled deeply, shaking his head. ¡°Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic.¡± With slow, deliberate steps, he walked over to a small obsidian tablet mounted on the wall. With a single press, the tablet activated, projecting a shimmering screen into the air. The faces of Angus¡¯ parents materialized before him. His father, a stern man with graying temples, sat in his study, his sharp gaze piercing through the projection. His mother, ever composed, stood beside him, arms crossed, expression unreadable¡ªbut in her eyes was something even worse than anger. Disappointment. ¡°Angus,¡± his father¡¯s deep voice resonated through the room. ¡°We heard about your failure this time.¡± Angus didn¡¯t dare lift his head. His mother sighed. ¡°Tell me¡­ what excuse do you have this time?¡± Silence. There was nothing he could say. His father¡¯s cold gaze narrowed. ¡°We placed you in this academy not just for you to succeed or to prove our name stands among the best but a once in a lifetime opportunity to rise into a better position than your mother and I. Yet here you are¡­ humiliated by a D-grade reject.¡± Angus'' fists trembled against the floor. He hated hearing those words. ¡°We¡¯ve wasted too many resources on you already,¡± his father continued. ¡°Time, effort, wealth¡ªall squandered.¡± Angus felt his breath quicken. His vision blurred¡ªnot from the pain but from the shame suffocating his very soul. His mother finally spoke. ¡°Tell me, Angus, do you even deserve to bear our family name?¡± That broke him more than any lash ever could. Dorne deactivated the projection, leaving the room in eerie silence. For a long moment, nothing happened. Then¡ª Crack! Another lash. This time, across his ribs, where the skin had already been broken. Angus screamed. Dorne finally stopped, watching as the boy gasped for air like a drowning animal. A long, uncomfortable silence followed before Dorne reached into his coat and flicked a small, crimson pill onto the floor. ¡°Your parents asked me to give you this.¡± His voice was emotionless. ¡°A high-grade cultivation booster. The kind of pill that should only be used when you''re desperate.¡± Angus stared at the pill, his body frozen. ¡°You are to take this in your next cultivation session,¡± Dorne said, his tone low. ¡°You will either break through to Peak Rank 1¡­ or you will die trying.¡± You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. Angus felt his stomach twist. Dorne stepped forward, crouching down beside him. His voice dropped to a whisper. ¡°You have one last chance, Angus.¡± He grabbed Angus by the collar, lifting him slightly before hissing: ¡°Either you rise¡­ or you rot.¡± With a flick of his wrist, Dorne sent a surge of essence through his palm, and in the next instant¡ª Angus was forcefully teleported out of the room. He landed harshly on the corridor outside, his back slamming against the cold, hard floor. The doors sealed shut behind him. He lay there for a moment, his body aching, his mind drowning in turmoil. Then, slowly¡­ painfully¡­ he turned his gaze to the crimson pill resting in his trembling hand. His mind only had one name repeating in his head, laced this terrifying hatred and malice: ¡°Denwen, just you wait¡± ¡ª- The training hall was a stark contrast to the cold, oppressive chambers of the combat wing¡ªit was bright, spacious, and alive with the hum of mana flowing through the air. Elegant arcane runes lined the marble walls, pulsing with a gentle glow, reinforcing the room¡¯s barrier enchantments. At the center stood Mellissa, her golden hair tied back in a sleek ponytail, her deep red training robes embroidered with the flaming insignia of her lineage¡ªthe Ignisclade family, one of the most prestigious fire-attribute bloodlines in the kingdom. With a single graceful motion, she extended her slender fingers, allowing the fiery mana within her to surge outward. A brilliant sphere of flames erupted from her palm, its intensity warping the air around it. With a flick of her wrist, the fireball whistled through the air before slamming into a nearby Peak Rank 1 puppet. Boom! The puppet was obliterated instantly, its reinforced exterior melting under the sheer heat before erupting into scattered embers. The explosion sent waves of heat rippling across the hall, yet Mellissa remained perfectly still, unfazed by the inferno she had created. A slow, approving clap followed. ¡°Excellent, Mellissa.¡± Lady Poffin, a woman of grace and wisdom, stood nearby with her arms folded behind her back, watching with unconcealed pride. Her presence exuded authority¡ªnot just as an instructor but as a renowned mage of the Ignisclade family. ¡°You have finally reached the point where you can annihilate a Peak Rank 1 construct in a single strike. That is a monumental step forward,¡± she praised, her sharp eyes gleaming. Mellissa, despite the accomplishment, did not allow herself to bask in the moment. Instead, she gave a slight bow of respect. ¡°It¡¯s all thanks to your guidance, Lady Poffin¡­ and my parents¡¯ expectations. I wouldn¡¯t have gotten this far without them.¡± Lady Poffin¡¯s lips curled into a smirk as she walked forward, placing a hand on Mellissa¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Now, now. Don¡¯t be too modest,¡± she chided playfully. ¡°You are an Ignisclade. You were never meant to fail.¡± Mellissa stiffened. Her fists clenched tightly, her nails digging into her palms. She knew. She knew the weight of her name¡ªthe unshakable expectations, the legacy that loomed over her like an eternal flame. Ignisclades were born to stand above others, to burn brighter than the rest. Anything less than greatness was unacceptable. Lady Poffin noticed the subtle tension in her expression but said nothing. Instead, she turned away and gestured toward the glowing ambient mana that filled the room. ¡°The beauty of being a mage,¡± she continued, ¡°is that your strength is limited only by your mastery over mana. You don¡¯t need a sword, or brute strength, or some petty tricks to aid you.¡± She gestured toward the air. ¡°The world essence is your weapon, and it exists all around you, waiting to be shaped.¡± Mellissa listened intently, pushing her thoughts aside as Lady Poffin continued. ¡°The world¡¯s essence contains all attributes, all possibilities¡ªeven those we have yet to discover. A true mage does not simply wield magic¡ªthey claim their birthright, filter the elements they resonate with, and shape them into something unstoppable.¡± Mellissa exhaled slowly, nodding. ¡°Of course, most people are naturally attuned to one or two affinities,¡± Lady Poffin said, flashing a knowing look. ¡°But that¡­ is a conversation for another time.¡± Mellissa felt a flicker of curiosity at that statement but pushed it aside. For now, all that mattered was fire. Her fire. She lifted her gaze, determination blazing behind her golden eyes. She couldn¡¯t fail. She wouldn¡¯t fail. She was Mellissa Ignisclade. And she would make sure the world never forgot that name. Aftermath of the Duel The medical ward was a picture of serene elegance, its walls crafted from polished white stone that shimmered faintly under the glow of suspended essence lamps. The gentle hum of healing formations pulsed through the air, creating a soothing atmosphere. Neatly arranged beds lined the room, though at the moment, Denwen was the only patient present. He lay on one of the pristine beds, his body fully healed, not a single mark left from the brutal duel. His chest, which had once been marred by a deep, nearly fatal slash, was now as smooth as if nothing had ever happened. The only thing left was the lingering exhaustion that weighed on his limbs. That peace, however, was short-lived. The doors burst open, and in walked Roy and Kara¡ªone looking completely unbothered, the other looking ready to strangle someone. "You really couldn''t have gone easy on him?" Kara snapped, her sharp gaze drilling into Roy as she stomped toward the bed. "You do remember that he''s your friend, right?" Roy, already sweating, averted his eyes as if suddenly fascinated by the intricate ceiling designs. "Uhh¡ªwell, technically, I also got injured. See? Broken arm." He wiggled his arm in its bandages in a almost healed state, trying to gain some sympathy. Kara didn''t buy it. She narrowed her eyes, arms crossed, her foot tapping against the polished floor. "Really?" She took a step forward, and Roy instinctively stepped back. "A broken arm? You almost split him in half!" "It wasn''t that bad¡ª" "You cut his chest open!¡± Roy let out a nervous chuckle, dodging a playful but very pointed slap aimed at his shoulder. He sidestepped again when she tried to jab him in the ribs. "Okay, okay, I might have gone a little too hard, but I really held back a lot¡ªOw! Kara, stop hitting me!" Roy complained, raising his hands in surrender as he narrowly dodged another light punch. "You deserve it!" she huffed, puffing out her cheeks in frustration. "You know, this is a hospital room, right?" Denwen¡¯s voice finally cut through their squabble, weak but tinged with amusement. Both heads snapped toward him. In an instant, Kara forgot her anger at Roy and rushed to Denwen¡¯s side, concern overtaking her expression. "You''re awake!" Roy, however, smirked. "Hey, porter boy, up already?" Denwen shot him a glare that could melt steel. Kara rolled her eyes. "I really don''t get your weird inside jokes, and honestly? I don''t want to. Just keep them far away from me." She turned back to Denwen, her expression softening. "You were lucky my master was the one in charge of your healing," she said, her voice carrying a mix of relief and scolding. Denwen offered a small, grateful smile. "I take it you were here the whole time, then?" Kara faltered for a split second before looking away. A faint dusting of pink graced her cheeks. "Well¡­ someone had to make sure you didn''t do something stupid in your sleep." Denwen chuckled softly but winced as a dull ache pulsed through his ribs. Seeing that, Kara¡¯s scowl deepened. "I swear, how many times do I have to tell you two? It''s a duel, not a death match! You''re not supposed to try and kill each other!" Both boys looked anywhere but at her, suddenly very interested in the fine details of the ward¡¯s ceiling and furniture. She sighed, shaking her head before taking a seat beside Denwen¡¯s bed. Her voice softened again, concern lacing her words. "I know you want to become stronger, to catch up to them, but¡­ you don¡¯t always have to push yourself past your limits. Rest is important too, Denwen." She hesitated for a moment before adding, "At least with the Verdant Core Pendant, you¡¯ve already broken through and caught up to me and the other B-grades¡­ there¡¯s no need to keep hurting yourself like this." A silence settled over the room. Denwen lowered his gaze as if weighing his next words. "...But you know¡ª" He didn¡¯t get to finish. Kara suddenly shot up from her seat, frustration flashing across her face. "But what?!" Denwen blinked. "What excuse are you going to make this time?" she demanded, her hands clenching at her sides. "Why do I even care so much when you clearly don¡¯t care about your own well-being?!" The boys tensed. Then, out of nowhere, Kara scoffed, throwing her hands in the air. "You know what? Go ahead. Keep getting yourself nearly killed. Maybe that¡¯s what you want. You can even go date death for all I care!" Before Denwen could ask what she even meant by that, she spun on her heel and stormed out, the door slamming behind her. A long, stunned silence followed. Roy let out a low whistle. "You really fucked up there, bro," he muttered, patting Denwen¡¯s shoulder. "I highly recommend fixing that." ¡ª- A silence lingered between them after Kara¡¯s dramatic exit, leaving the atmosphere slightly tense. Denwen exhaled slowly, his fingers lightly gripping the sheets of the hospital bed. His mind wandered, thoughts racing between Kara¡¯s concern and the deeper struggles that gnawed at him. Roy, sensing the shift in mood, leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. ¡°You good?¡± Denwen let out a soft chuckle, but it didn¡¯t quite reach his eyes. ¡°Do you think she¡¯ll ever understand?¡± His voice was quieter now, almost distant. Roy sighed, rubbing the back of his head. ¡°Come on, bro. No one¡¯s really gonna understand. Not completely, anyway.¡± He gave him a nudge on the shoulder. ¡°But putting that aside, you really shook everyone back there. Who the hell would¡¯ve guessed you¡¯d actually break through?¡± If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Denwen¡¯s lips pressed into a thin line before he let out another sigh. ¡°Honestly¡­ it should be expected.¡± Roy raised an eyebrow. ¡°Expected? Bro, you¡¯re a D-grade¡ªbreaking through at this point should¡¯ve been impossible.¡± Denwen glanced around the ward cautiously. It was still empty, save for the faint glow of the essence lamps and the occasional flicker of healing runes embedded into the walls. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. ¡°¡­Yeah, that¡¯s the point.¡± Roy¡¯s expression twisted in confusion, but before he could ask, Denwen continued, his voice barely above a whisper. ¡°I¡¯m not exactly a D-grade anymore¡­¡± He paused, scanning the room one last time, then whispered the last part. ¡°I¡¯m now a C-grade.¡± For a second, Roy just stared at him. Then¡ª ¡°A C-GRADE?!¡± Denwen¡¯s hand shot out like lightning, clamping over Roy¡¯s mouth before his voice could echo through the ward. ¡°What did I just say about being loud?!¡± Denwen hissed, glaring daggers at him. Roy¡¯s muffled protests came out as incoherent grumbles until Denwen finally let go. He coughed dramatically, leaning forward with wide eyes. ¡°Bro¡­ you serious?¡± Denwen nodded, watching as Roy processed the sheer insanity of it. ¡°This¡­ this is unheard of,¡± Roy muttered, still trying to wrap his head around the situation. ¡°How the hell did it even happen?¡± Denwen leaned back against the pillows, arms crossed. ¡°After that first mission¡ªyou know, the disaster I told you about¡ªI went to Agrona to see if she had anything that could help.¡± Roy¡¯s eyebrows shot up. ¡°Agrona?¡± Denwen nodded. ¡°Yeah, considering her expertise, I figured she¡¯d have something that could at least help me start channeling my essence properly. She gave me this¡­ injection, something that was supposed to improve my channeling speed.¡± His fingers drummed against his arm as he continued. ¡°But some¡­ stuff went down, and¡ªboom.¡± He gestured vaguely. ¡°C-grade.¡± Roy¡¯s mouth hung open slightly before he slowly shook his head in disbelief. ¡°So you¡¯re telling me¡­ you just skipped all the usual struggle and jumped straight to C-grade? Just like that?¡± Denwen let out a dry chuckle. ¡°Not exactly ¡®just like that.¡¯ I did almost die in the process.¡± Roy blinked. ¡°Huh.¡± A pause. ¡°Well,¡± Denwen added, waving a hand, ¡°I¡¯m basically Agrona¡¯s lab rat now. She¡¯s trying to see if she can understand and possibly replicate what happened.¡± Roy let out a low whistle, shaking his head. ¡°Man, you just keep throwing surprises at me. First, your freakish strength in the duel, and now this? No wonder your punches packed way more of a punch this time.¡± Denwen smirked. ¡°Guess you underestimated me.¡± Roy rolled his eyes but grinned. ¡°So, does this mean you¡¯re the strongest in our class now?¡± He leaned back dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. ¡°Well, that is¡­ if I¡¯m not included in that statement, of course.¡± Denwen snorted, throwing a light punch at Roy¡¯s arm. Roy dodged, laughing. ¡°Hey, hey! I¡¯m just saying, the class won¡¯t be that mad anymore. Well¡ª¡± He smirked. ¡°¡ªthey might be if they heard a porter boy was now leading the pack.¡± Denwen¡¯s glare sharpened instantly. ¡°Say that again.¡± Roy laughed, dodging another jab before holding up his hands in surrender. ¡°Alright, alright, I¡¯ll stop!¡± After a bit more back-and-forth teasing, the two finally settled down. Then, Roy¡¯s expression shifted slightly, turning more serious. ¡°So¡­ I spoke with my uncle, you know, about dungeons and stuff.¡± Denwen¡¯s brows furrowed slightly. ¡°Hope you didn¡¯t¡ª¡± ¡°No, obviously. I¡¯m not that dumb,¡± Roy interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out something small and metallic. A ring. It shimmered under the soft glow of the essence lamps, faint runes carved into its sleek surface. ¡°I basically asked him for something that could keep someone safe in case of an emergency. Especially since you¡¯ve been taking on more missions lately.¡± Roy handed it over. ¡°And he gave me this.¡± Denwen took the ring carefully, inspecting it with a wary expression. ¡°What is it?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a one-time-use rank 3 space artifact,¡± Roy explained. ¡°All you have to do is imbue your essence into it over time. It¡¯s gonna take a lot of essence to activate, since you¡¯re still rank 1, but once it¡¯s filled, the color will change.¡± Denwen turned it over in his palm, the weight of the artifact feeling heavier than it should. ¡°¡­And what happens when it activates?¡± Roy shrugged. ¡°No clue. My uncle didn¡¯t tell me, so don¡¯t ask.¡± Denwen remained silent, staring at the ring. It was¡­ a lot. A rank 3 artifact. That was no joke. Part of him wanted to refuse. He didn¡¯t want to rely on something like this. He didn¡¯t want to need something like this. But¡­ he also knew better. With the missions he was taking, the fights he was getting into¡ªthere was no guarantee he¡¯d make it out of everything alive. Denwen exhaled, then, after a moment, slid the ring onto his finger. It was a perfect fit. ¡°¡­Thanks, Roy.¡± His voice was quieter, more genuine. Roy smirked. ¡°Just don¡¯t go dying on me, yeah?¡± Denwen chuckled, shaking his head. ¡°No promises.¡± End of Semester Evaluation The academy buzzed with restless energy. First-year students from Room A to Room C were caught in a whirlwind of emotions¡ªsome filled with excitement, others drowning in silent dread. This was the day that determined everything. The End of Semester Evaluation wasn¡¯t just a test of progress; it was a reckoning. Unlike the Awakening Ceremony, which had been a grand event for all, these evaluations were conducted separately in their respective classrooms. Room teachers would be overseeing the process, and some high-profile instructors, like Dorne and Lady Poffin, were also present, observing their chosen students. The stakes were clear¡ªpass and move forward, or fail and be dropped. Denwen, Roy, and Kara walked into the classroom together, the tension in the air palpable. Students were either nervously whispering among themselves or sitting rigidly at their desks, deep in thought. Kara nudged Denwen lightly with her elbow, a teasing smile on her lips. ¡°I guess there won¡¯t be anyone collapsing today.¡± Denwen shot her a dry look. ¡°You just had to bring that up.¡± Roy smirked, adding fuel to the fire. ¡°Come on, the porter boy isn¡¯t that weak-minded anymore.¡± Denwen sighed. ¡°You two really fit each other, you know? You¡¯ve both got a talent for setting just the right mood.¡± Roy and Kara exchanged glances before grinning at him. ¡°See? He does get us.¡± Denwen shook his head, moving toward his usual seat at the back. But as he did, his gaze locked onto Angus¡ªand the moment their eyes met, a cold chill crawled up his spine. Angus sat at his desk, arms crossed, his face a mask of silent rage. But then¡ªhis expression shifted. The anger melted into something worse¡­ a smirk. A wicked, knowing smirk. Denwen felt his steps slow involuntarily. ¡°Look who decided to show up today,¡± Angus mused, his voice casual, but laced with something sharp. His smirk widened. ¡°I guess your little breakthrough must¡¯ve put you in really high spirits.¡± The room grew noticeably quieter as nearby students turned their attention to the brewing exchange. Denwen stopped in his tracks, keeping his posture relaxed but his voice steady. ¡°Well, isn¡¯t that a lot coming from someone who¡¯s still at the level of a measly Grade D?¡± A few students snickered. Someone in the back muttered, ¡°Damn¡­¡± Angus didn¡¯t flinch. He merely chuckled, shaking his head like he was humoring a child who didn¡¯t know better. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk, his gaze never breaking away from Denwen¡¯s. ¡°I suppose I¡¯ll just let you enjoy your little bubble, then,¡± Angus said smoothly. ¡°It¡¯ll be so much more satisfying when I burst it.¡± His voice dripped with certainty. Denwen felt it¡ªthe weight behind his words. It wasn¡¯t just an empty threat. Something was up. His fingers twitched slightly at his sides, but he didn¡¯t let his expression falter. Instead, he held Angus¡¯s stare for a few lingering seconds before finally smirking back. ¡°You¡¯re welcome to try.¡± Angus¡¯s smile widened, but there was something dark behind it. Denwen didn¡¯t wait for a reply. He turned and headed toward his seat at the back of the class, but the unease in his chest lingered. ¡®Something¡¯s definitely up with him.¡¯ ¡ª- This outcome had been expected by many students. They were well aware of the timeless feud between the two boys, and after Denwen¡¯s surprising breakthrough in the last duel, anticipation had only grown. Today¡¯s evaluation would determine more than just rankings¡ªit would set the tone for the coming semester. The classroom buzzed with murmurs and hushed whispers, excitement and anxiety weaving together in the air. That energy, however, was immediately silenced when the crisp echo of footsteps rang through the room. Kael had arrived. The instructor strode in, his long coat shifting as he carried a sleek, black briefcase. Without a word, he placed it on the table at the center of the room, clicking it open with a practiced motion. A faint hum of power pulsed from within, drawing the students'' gazes. ¡°Good morning, class.¡± His voice was measured but carried an unmistakable authority. ¡°I can see some of you are quite eager for today¡¯s evaluation, while others¡­ not so much.¡± A wry smirk touched his lips before fading. ¡°We all know what¡¯s coming, and I¡¯d like to be efficient so we can move on with our day. I deserve a break as much as you do.¡± He gave a half-hearted sigh before continuing, eyes sweeping over the students. ¡°This semester has yielded some... interesting surprises. Some who were expected to rise have stagnated, while others¡ªagainst all odds¡ªhave clawed their way forward. However, speculation ends today. This evaluation will reveal the true standing of every student here.¡± A few students fidgeted, exchanging nervous glances. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. Kael¡¯s expression darkened slightly. ¡°As I mentioned at the start of the semester, anyone who hasn¡¯t broken through to Mid Rank 1 will be dropped from the class. No exceptions.¡± His sharp gaze lingered on a few individuals, assessing them as though he already knew the outcome. With that, he lifted the lid of the briefcase, revealing a smooth crystal orb nestled inside. The room fell utterly silent, the orb¡¯s faint glow casting eerie reflections across Kael¡¯s face. ¡°Step forward, one at a time,¡± he instructed. ¡°Just place your hand on the ball and infuse your essence. It will extract your true strength whether you try to hide it or not.¡± He arched a brow. ¡°Don¡¯t ask how¡ªjust don¡¯t be stupid. Thanks.¡± A few chuckles broke the tension, but it was fleeting. The real test was about to begin. ¡°Alright, Number 50¡ªDor Dum. Step forward.¡± A timid boy hesitantly rose from his seat. He was among the few D-grade talents in the class, and though Denwen didn''t care for him personally, he was aware that his own progress had given hope to students like Dor. But there was always a stark divide between hope and reality¡ªand reality was unforgiving. Dor approached the orb, placed his hand on it, and the glow intensified. Numbers formed above the sphere, displaying his strength for all to see. The result was immediate. He had failed to reach Mid Rank 1. A heavy silence settled over the room. Dor¡¯s shoulders slumped, and he quickly shuffled back to his seat, avoiding everyone¡¯s gaze. One by one, the bottom ten students stepped forward, only to be met with the same crushing fate. Some clenched their fists in frustration. Others, unable to bear the humiliation, quietly left the room altogether. The names continued. Kara approached when it was her turn, her movements controlled yet resolute. The orb flared as she infused her essence, and her results displayed a solid improvement. Denwen met her gaze and gave a small nod of acknowledgment. She responded with a smirk before folding her arms and looking elsewhere, as though his approval didn¡¯t matter. Then¡ª ¡°Number 5¡ªDenwen Hale.¡± A ripple of whispers spread through the classroom, though none were truly surprised. Denwen walked forward at an unhurried pace, placing his hand on the orb. The essence within him surged, and for a moment, the crystal seemed to thrum in response, as though recognizing something beyond its usual readings. The numbers appeared. It wasn¡¯t anything grand in the grand scheme of things, but for a D-grade talent, it was nothing short of astonishing. A few students exchanged stunned glances. Even with his unique physiology, most had expected him to be, at best, 15th in the rankings. But Denwen kept defying expectations¡ªand that alone was enough to stir unease among some of his peers. Vorden and Agrona clapped for him enthusiastically, while Kara only huffed, pretending not to care. Angus, however, just rolled his eyes. ¡°Tch.¡± He leaned back in his seat, unimpressed. Kael moved on. ¡°Number 4¡ªJay Mankin.¡± Jay stepped forward, his expression calm and composed. He had once been second in the class, but over the weeks, he had been dethroned. Despite this, his progression remained solid¡ªhe was the closest C-grade talent to Peak Rank 1. His results showed as much, earning nods of approval from both his instructor and his peers. Then¡ª ¡°Number 3¡ªMelissa Ignisclade.¡± A hush fell over the room as Melissa rose with unmistakable elegance, flipping her silver hair with a slow, deliberate motion. Every movement oozed confidence. She had never challenged Denwen, Roy, or Jay in combat, opting instead to defeat weaker opponents to accumulate more points. It was a calculated strategy¡ªand one that had paid off. The orb glowed, and then¡ª GASPS. ¡°She¡¯s at Peak Rank 1?!¡± ¡°That¡¯s a B-grade talent for you¡­¡± Whispers erupted across the room. Melissa closed her eyes briefly, basking in the admiration. Her instructor, Lady Poffin, smiled in satisfaction, clapping lightly. Kael didn¡¯t linger. ¡°Number 2¡ªAngus Emberbane.¡± Angus rose with a smug air, exuding the same quiet arrogance as always. But Denwen had begun to notice something different¡ªa certainty in his demeanor. ¡°Did he¡­ break through as well?¡± Denwen mused, narrowing his eyes. Angus made his way forward, pausing slightly to lock gazes with Denwen. It wasn¡¯t just a glance¡ªit was a silent challenge. The orb pulsed, revealing his results. Angus had indeed broken through. A mix of awe and dread filled the room, yet Denwen only sighed, rolling his eyes as Angus took his moment of glory. And finally¡ª ¡°Number 1¡ªRoy Clifford.¡± Roy stretched lazily before standing up. He barely looked concerned, offering a carefree yawn as he walked toward the orb. Across the room, Dvalin¡¯s grin widened, sending a shiver down Vorden¡¯s spine. Much Needed Break (1) ¡°Den! Could you run down to the store and grab the groceries? I already told the attendant you''d be stopping by to pick them up,¡± Racheal called from the kitchen, her voice slightly muffled over the sound of clattering pots. Denwen groaned from the couch, lazily tugging on a branded polo to pair with his shorts. ¡°Come on! You still don¡¯t trust me to do your shopping? After all these years?¡± Before Racheal could respond, Nicole sauntered into the room, shaking her head dramatically like she¡¯d just witnessed the fall of a great empire. ¡°Tsk, tsk, tsk¡­ You might be perfect in every other way, Den, but even the heavens must balance perfection with a fatal flaw.¡± She pressed her hand to her cheek, adopting the serene pose of a wise, ancient sage. ¡°And yours¡­ is haggling.¡± Denwen clutched his chest as if struck by an invisible blade. ¡°Nicole¡­ how could you? After everything we¡¯ve been through¡­¡± Nicole just shrugged. ¡°I speak only truth.¡± From the kitchen, Racheal chimed in without missing a beat. ¡°She¡¯s not wrong, Den. You negotiate like a five-year-old trying to trade a stick for a gold coin. And none of us here are five.¡± Denwen dramatically collapsed to his knees, hands slapping the floor as though the weight of their betrayal had physically crushed him. ¡°I am being slandered in my own home!¡± Before anyone could console him¡ªnot that they would¡ªVarek strolled in from the hallway, yawning as he adjusted his glasses. ¡°What¡¯s this? Denwen on the floor? Must be Grocery Day.¡± Denwen pointed an accusatory finger. ¡°Et tu, Father?¡± Varek smirked, crossing his arms. ¡°Son, the last time you did the shopping, you paid full price¡­ during a discount sale. The cashier gave you change out of pity.¡± Nicole burst out laughing, nearly doubling over, while Racheal wiped a pretend tear from her eye. ¡°We still talk about it at dinner,¡± she added. Denwen stared up at the ceiling. ¡°Why¡­ why was I taken into a family of professional bullies?¡± ¡°Because the universe loves balance,¡± Nicole replied sagely, patting him on the shoulder like a war veteran. Varek handed Denwen the grocery list with a grin. ¡°Go on, Champion. Try not to bankrupt us. Not like you can, it has already been done for you¡± Denwen took the list with the weariness of a man walking to his execution. ¡°One day... I swear I¡¯ll master the art of the bargain. And when that day comes, you¡¯ll all regret this slander.¡± Nicole snorted. ¡°Yeah, yeah. Now hurry up, Imperfect One.¡± And with that, Denwen trudged toward the door, the sound of his family''s laughter following him all the way out. --- The break had begun immediately after the end-of-semester evaluation, giving students a rare chance to return home and recharge before the storm of the new semester. The whispers about their first dungeon dive were already everywhere¡ªparents scrambling to fortify their kids with extra training, rare gear, and secrets pulled from long-forgotten scrolls. Denwen, however, was taking his moment of quiet. He strolled through the twilight streets of Ashvale, ear pods snug as the golden hour bathed the rooftops in soft amber light. Above, hover cars glided by in orderly streams, their usual honks and engines dulled beneath the ocean of sound flowing through his ears. It was Xena. It was always Xena. Tonight¡¯s track¡ª¡°Veil of the Forgotten¡±¡ªwas one of his favorites. The song unfolded like a secret being whispered from another realm. Chimes drifted through the melody, layered beneath a fragile electronic hum, and her voice¡ªbreathless and weightless¡ªcarried words that felt like old myths brought back to life. Xena wasn¡¯t just popular. She was¡­ unreal. Some even said she wasn¡¯t fully human. Not exactly. Theories floated around¡ªwhispers that her voice could manipulate essence, that the reason her music hit so deeply was because it resonated on frequencies most people couldn''t even perceive. There was even a rumor she''d been found as a child, standing alone in the ruins of an ancient temple, singing to herself in a language no one understood. Denwen didn¡¯t care if any of it was true. Because when Xena sang, the chaos of his world untangled. The weight on his shoulders lightened. And for a few minutes, he felt like maybe, just maybe, he wasn¡¯t completely alone in how he saw things. ¡°She sings so well¡­¡± he muttered to himself, a soft smile creeping in. ¡°She¡¯s one of the few people in this world I¡¯d protect, no matter what.¡± The bell above the door jingled as he entered the corner store, the anti-theft runes flickering blue as they scanned his essence. The comforting scent of dried herbs and old paper greeted him as he removed his right ear pod, the music fading to a gentle background hum. ¡°Hey, Mary. I¡¯m here again,¡± he called, stepping toward the counter. Mary glanced up and beamed. ¡°Hey, cutie. Right on time.¡± She ducked behind the counter, retrieving several bulky bags and plopping them in front of him. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Denwen blinked. ¡°Uh¡­ why so much?¡± Mary shrugged. ¡°Maybe your folks are expecting a siege. Or maybe Racheal thinks you¡¯re finally gonna hit that growth spurt.¡± He chuckled, slipping his fingers through the handles with practiced ease. ¡°Yeah, well. I better get home before you-know-who starts making comments.¡± Mary watched him turn to leave, eyes briefly trailing over the way he handled the weight without a second thought. There was something magnetic about the boy, even if he didn¡¯t seem to notice. She cleared her throat and shook her head, almost laughing at herself. ¡°Alright, Mary, calm down. He¡¯s sixteen. Sixteen,¡± she whispered, smirking as the door closed behind him. Outside, Denwen reinserted the ear pod, the music swelling just in time for the chorus. And as he walked, he thought again about Xena, the girl from the ruins, the girl whose voice could make him forget the ache of trying to belong. Maybe, one day, he''d find a way to meet her. But for now, her songs were enough to keep the shadows at bay. --- Denwen nudged the door open with his shoulder, balancing the hefty grocery bags like a pro. He barely took two steps inside before the familiar chaos hit him like a wall. The living room was alive. Loud, booming laughter from Varek rumbled from the couch as he argued with Vahn, both of them talking over each other like two rival kings. ¡°I¡¯m telling you, the blade¡¯s weight distribution matters more than the core density!¡± Vahn barked, slamming his hand on the table. Varek scoffed, waving him off with a grin. ¡°Oh, please! Says the man who nearly threw his back out trying to swing a longblade. Maybe ask your chiropractor what he thinks about weight distribution!¡± They both roared into laughter, starting the cycle all over again. To the side, Roy was sprawled across the rug, using his hands to launch Nicole¡¯s plush toys into the air with little bursts of essence, while Nicole squealed, diving to catch them mid-flight. ¡°Roy, higher! Higher!¡± Nicole demanded, her hair a wild mess from chasing after the stuffed animals. ¡°I¡¯m not trying to launch it into orbit, Nicole,¡± Roy laughed. ¡°Well¡­ unless you really want a new moon.¡± In the kitchen, Denwen spotted Kara standing beside Racheal, helping chop up vegetables with calm, practiced movements. Kara didn¡¯t even spare him a glance, keeping her focus entirely on the cutting board, as though he was just part of the furniture. Typical. Denwen set the bags on the kitchen counter with a heavy sigh. ¡°Home sweet home.¡± Racheal glanced over and flashed him a smile. ¡°Perfect timing. I was just telling Kara how you always seem to come back right when the hard part is over.¡± Denwen smirked. ¡°What can I say? Talent.¡± Kara gave the faintest huff, still not meeting his gaze, her knife slicing a carrot with surgical precision. He leaned over slightly, whispering just loud enough for her to hear, ¡°Hey Kara, are we pretending I don¡¯t exist today or tomorrow?¡± She ignored him, sliding the chopped carrots into the bowl like a queen dismissing a peasant. Denwen chuckled to himself. Guess it¡¯s both. Before he could try again, Racheal wiped her hands on a towel and clapped her palms together. ¡°You know what? We should go out tonight. Grab some food, see the city lights, talk a bit. Could do us some good to get fresh air.¡± Denwen raised a brow. ¡°Just us?¡± ¡°Of course¡ª¡± Racheal began, but¡ª ¡°I¡¯m coming too!¡± Nicole piped up from the living room, practically leaping onto the couch armrest. ¡°I¡¯m old enough, and I want fries. And ice cream. And¡ª¡± Racheal looked heavenward. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean it like a family trip, Nicole.¡± Nicole folded her arms, her expression dead serious. ¡°Well, I¡¯m family.¡± Denwen snorted. ¡°She¡¯s got you there.¡± ¡°Please, Rach, pleeease,¡± Nicole begged, her voice turning into that weaponized whine only little sisters perfected. ¡°I¡¯ll be so good.¡± Before Racheal could relent, Roy sat up and ruffled Nicole¡¯s hair. ¡°I¡¯ll keep her company. We¡¯ll hang back, play a few rounds of Skybreaker, yeah? You can owe me later.¡± Nicole blinked. ¡°Wait. But¡ª¡± Roy leaned in close and whispered just loud enough for Denwen to hear, ¡°And that, my friends, is what we call a noble sacrifice.¡± Nicole pouted but, after a moment, relented. ¡°Fine. But you better make me popcorn.¡± ¡°Deal.¡± Racheal sighed in relief, looking to Denwen. ¡°Alright then. Go change into something decent. You look like you just crawled out of training.¡± Denwen glanced down at his shorts and branded polo. ¡°Wow. The disrespect in this house.¡± Kara finally¡ªfinally¡ªlooked up from the cutting board, just to roll her eyes at him before turning away again. Denwen smirked. ¡°Ah. Progress.¡± And with that, the house carried on around him. Voices overlapped, laughter rose from the living room, and the warm, chaotic pulse of family life filled the space like music. For a moment, Denwen just stood there, taking it all in. Much Needed Break (2) The night was alive. Though it wasn¡¯t terribly late, the sky had already draped itself in a deep indigo, and the hum of Ashvale¡¯s mall district was in full swing. Neon signs pulsed in rhythmic waves of violet and gold, casting glows onto the polished streets where students, families, and vendors bustled in all directions. It felt like the entire continent''s youth had spilled into the night, eager to spend their semester break filling the air with laughter and chatter. Roy walked a few paces behind Denwen and Kara, his hands tucked into his pockets as his eyes lazily followed the bobbing of Kara¡¯s hair beneath the ambient lights. He held Nicole¡¯s hand tight so she doesn¡¯t wander off into the unknown The gentle scent of street food drifted on the breeze¡ªsweet pastries, roasted meats, spiced teas¡ªand somewhere distant, a busker played soft acoustic notes that barely managed to float above the noise. Kara¡¯s voice cut through the atmosphere, low but certain. ¡°You know,¡± she said, glancing at Denwen beside her, ¡°if I could picture the perfect life¡­ it wouldn¡¯t be like this.¡± He cocked a brow. ¡°What, shopping and battling for fried dough balls?¡± She gave a rare, soft smile. ¡°No. I mean¡­ all of this.¡± Her hand made a vague gesture toward the glowing city, the scattered laughter, the constant movement. ¡°The endless climbing, fighting, competing for strength. People obsessed with rankings, power, how high they can go. My ideal life wouldn¡¯t be any of that.¡± Denwen shrugged. ¡°Most people we know, they¡¯d sell their souls just to hit the next rank. It¡¯s kinda the way things work, Kara. Win or get left behind.¡± ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I mean.¡± She slowed her pace, looking down at her hands, turning them over as if expecting something else to appear. ¡°I don¡¯t want my hands to exist just to hurt people. To be another person adding to the noise of destruction. Everyone¡¯s obsessed with how well they can break things. I want to learn how to fix them.¡± He blinked at her. ¡°Fix¡­ people?¡± ¡°Heal them,¡± she said. ¡°Not just patch up wounds but really¡­ bring life back. I¡¯ve been thinking about it a lot lately. Becoming a mage, for me, isn¡¯t about getting strong to win fights. It¡¯s so I can create something beautiful in the middle of all this chaos. I want to be able to stand in the middle of a battlefield and save people no one else can.¡± Her gaze rose toward the night sky, and Denwen swore the lights of the city dulled in comparison. ¡°To take lives is easy. But to preserve them?¡± Kara continued, her voice calm and resolute. ¡°That¡¯s real power.¡± For a moment, he didn¡¯t reply. The honesty of it settled over them like a warm, steady breeze. Denwen was about to say something¡ªhe wasn¡¯t even sure what, only that he wanted to¡ªbut before a word could leave his mouth, the group turned the corner of the upper balcony, overlooking one of the mall¡¯s open entertainment decks. There, beneath the lantern-lit canopy, was Nicole and Roy¡­ or rather, Roy in his second battle of the night¡ªthis time against an overly determined child. ¡°Roy, you''re going down! Again!¡± Nicole cackled from across the holographic game table, her small hands expertly flicking glowing tiles as her avatar on the screen launched yet another devastating combo. Roy slammed his palm on the table. ¡°That was pure luck. Run it back!¡± Nicole pointed dramatically. ¡°Nope! I¡¯m retiring undefeated. Get good!¡± A few nearby students snickered as Roy hung his head in exaggerated defeat, muttering something about how the universe was conspiring against him. Kara stifled a laugh, covering her mouth. ¡°Wow. A-grade talent, beaten by an twelve-year-old.¡± Denwen chuckled, leaning on the railing as he watched them. ¡°I would call it embarrassing, but honestly¡­ it¡¯s kinda impressive.¡± They stood there for a moment, watching the game reset as Nicole smugly tapped the console and Roy groaned in despair. The wind brushed softly past them, carrying with it the hum of music, the glow of passing hover cars, and the muffled conversations of countless lives intertwining for just this one night. Denwen glanced back at Kara, watching her watch the people below. Maybe it was the lights, or maybe it was just her, but somehow everything felt a little warmer. ¡°That dream of yours,¡± he finally said, voice lower than before, ¡°it¡¯s a good one.¡± Kara looked over, meeting his gaze briefly. ¡°Thanks.¡± --- The night at the mall felt like it had no end. Waves of laughter, chattering students, and the low hum of music blended into a perfect evening. Under the vibrant canopy of lantern lights and glowing shop signs, Roy, still rubbing his temples from his crushing defeat to Nicole, leaned dramatically against the game table. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. "First rank in the class," Denwen teased from behind him. "Bested by a pre-teen." Nicole smirked, already halfway through her victory dance. ¡°Legendary performance, Roy.¡± As they all shared a light laugh, a pair of voices approached from the side, cutting through the noise with ease. ¡°Well, well, well,¡± came the playful lilt of June, a bubbly girl with fiery orange curls tied up messily and a grin that practically never left her face. ¡°If it isn¡¯t the mighty Rank 2, getting his butt handed to him by a twelve-year-old... in public.¡± She leaned dramatically on the table, chin resting on her palm as if observing some exotic creature. ¡°Hey, June,¡± Roy greeted sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. ¡°You really didn''t have to say it out loud.¡± Beside her was Mellissa, ever the picture of composed elegance, standing slightly behind with her arms crossed, her sharp gaze flickering from Roy to Denwen to Kara, analyzing the group. ¡°Honestly, it''s more surprising this isn¡¯t a daily occurrence,¡± she added dryly. Kara shot her a look but said nothing, adjusting her scarf as if already preparing for Mellissa¡¯s inevitable backhanded comments. ¡°Relax, we''re just browsing,¡± June continued, her eyes bright. ¡°This mall''s crazy tonight. Didn¡¯t expect to see the whole gang here.¡± Before anyone could respond, the ground nearly vibrated from a booming voice somewhere across the upper balcony. ¡°ROY!¡± Heads turned as Jay Manakin stormed into view, all six foot three of him, broad-shouldered and built like someone who trained for fun by bench-pressing small vehicles. His sleeveless hoodie barely contained his frame, and his wild, dark hair was held back with a bandana. "Finally! Someone manly enough to challenge me!" he bellowed, stomping closer. Then his eyes landed on Denwen. "Wait, hold up. Denwen''s here too? Oh-ho! Perfect! The two toughest guys in the year in one spot? Fate has blessed me!" He struck a double bicep pose as if this alone might pressure them into agreeing to a match. "Jay, please," Kara groaned under her breath. Nicole snickered behind her hands. ¡°Is he... always like this?¡± ¡°Only on days ending in ¡®Y,¡¯¡± Roy muttered, shaking his head as Jay kept flexing like he was in the middle of a body-sculpting competition. While Jay was distracted hyping himself up, Kara¡¯s gaze drifted further down the plaza. Her eyes landed on a familiar figure loitering near a row of video game stores, his green hoodie pulled low over his forehead and the distinctive glint of a wired eyepiece catching the light. "Hey," she said, pointing subtly, "that''s Logan. He''s from Room B. He¡¯d rather spend all day tinkering with gadgets than lifting a staff or casting a spell.¡± Logan, as if hearing his name, glanced their way with mild alarm before hastily pretending to examine the latest holographic console in the shop window. One of his ears had a small wire trailing into an old, scratched music player strapped to his waist, the kind people half-joked belonged in a museum. Roy nudged Denwen. ¡°Childhood friend, huh? Someone¡¯s got a type.¡± Denwen shot him a glare. ¡°Don¡¯t make me remind Nicole who¡¯s still undefeated tonight.¡± That earned a snort from Nicole and an exaggerated gasp from Roy. ¡°Cruel.¡± The group¡¯s laughter filled the air again, the night feeling light and easy¡­ until the mood shifted like a sudden draft. Across the street, accompanied by a man in a tailored black uniform with a long, silver-streaked beard, walked Angus. Where most students carried themselves with excitement or at least relaxation, Angus moved with a smug, measured pace, his red scarf draped loosely around his neck as though he were starring in some grand, private drama only he understood. His lips curled into a cold, faint sneer as his gaze swept across the group. ¡°Figures,¡± he muttered just loudly enough, locking eyes with Denwen as he passed. ¡°Low lives stick together.¡± The words hung in the air, souring the warmth of the moment. Nobody replied. Not because they couldn¡¯t, but because there wasn¡¯t any point. The instructor beside Angus said nothing, merely ushering him along, and soon they vanished into the crowd, leaving a ripple of tension behind them. Jay, oblivious as ever, frowned after them. ¡°Man, what¡¯s his deal? I thought we were all supposed to be enjoying break.¡± Kara exhaled slowly, shaking off the encounter. ¡°Ignore him.¡± June, always the optimist, clapped her hands. ¡°Right! How about we all get something to eat? I¡¯m starving.¡± ¡°Only if Roy pays,¡± Nicole chimed in sweetly. ¡°Why me?!¡± ¡°Because losers buy dinner.¡± The group laughed again, and just like that, the night began to feel lighter once more, as they drifted together toward the food court, leaving the shadows behind. Table of Chaos The food court of the mall was packed, bustling with students enjoying their break. Neon signs flashed over various stalls, holographic menus hovered in the air, and the scent of fried food, grilled meat, and sugary sweets mixed in the air like some dangerous potion. As the gang slid into a large corner booth, Mellissa stood off to the side, clutching her purse. "I''ll pass," she said coolly, eyeing the crowd like they were all beneath her. "I have better things to do than waste my time stuffing my face in a noisy food court." June rolled her eyes and looped her arm through Mellissa¡¯s before she could make her getaway. ¡°Oh, no you don¡¯t! Come on, Mel. You need a life outside your textbooks. Your goals aren''t going anywhere tonight. Take a break before you turn into stone.¡± Mellissa hesitated, clearly torn between her pride and the gentle but firm tug of her friend. "Tch¡­ Fine. But only for a little while. And don''t expect me to eat anything... disgusting." "Deal!" June grinned, pulling her along toward the ordering stations. --- ¡°Jay, please tell me you¡¯re not doing what I think you¡¯re doing,¡± Roy groaned, watching the big guy pile his tray with what had to be half the available protein in the food court. Jay beamed as though proud of his masterpiece. ¡°Chicken, beef, pork, AND shrimp! Balance is important, my friends. Gotta fuel these guns!¡± He flexed unnecessarily as the cashier blinked in disbelief at the total. Roy glanced at Denwen, his smile already trembling. "My wallet¡¯s crying. I feel it." Nicole, meanwhile, had two scoops of rainbow swirl ice cream and a large order of curly fries. Denwen leaned over and plucked the fries from her tray. "Nope." ¡°Hey!¡± Nicole pouted. ¡°This is my break! I''m allowed to treat myself.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll treat yourself to a stomachache,¡± Denwen replied, putting the fries on his own tray like a protective parent. She crossed her arms. ¡°You¡¯re so dramatic.¡± Mellissa, true to her word, ordered nothing but a simple veggie salad. She poked at it with a plastic fork like it had personally offended her. June and Kara both opted for burgers and fries, raising their drinks like a toast. ¡°To bad decisions!¡± June cheered. Kara smirked. ¡°And clogged arteries.¡± Logan finally appeared with just a small cup of warm milk and a neat stack of chocolate chip cookies. Hood up, earbuds in, eyepiece glowing softly. He slid into the booth without a word, nibbling on a cookie like the world''s most low-maintenance cat. Jay, balancing his mountain of protein, thumped into the seat next to him and nearly knocked over Logan¡¯s milk. Logan caught it in time, sighing like this was his fate. ¡°Jay, the table¡¯s gonna snap,¡± Kara said, half amused, half serious. ¡°If it breaks, we¡¯ll know it wasn¡¯t worthy!¡± Jay declared before biting into an entire chicken leg like it was nothing. --- As they started eating, the table buzzed with casual conversation and teasing. "So," Roy said, glancing between Kara and Logan with a grin. "Childhood friends, huh? What¡¯s that like? Got any embarrassing stories about Kara?" Logan shrugged without looking up from his milk. "She once tried to enchant a toaster. Set half the dorm''s kitchen on fire." Kara flushed. "Logan! You swore" ¡°What? It¡¯s true,¡± Logan said, deadpan, dunking a cookie like this was the most ordinary thing in the world. ¡°Wait, so it was you that cause the fire out break back then¡± June said with a bit of shock in her voice Nicole burst out laughing. "I knew you were hiding some chaos in you." Denwen chuckled quietly as he peeled a drumstick. "Now I¡¯m wondering what other secrets you¡¯re hiding, Kara." ¡°None!¡± Kara snapped, shoving fries into her mouth to avoid further interrogation. Jay, already halfway through his meal, looked around the table. ¡°You know, this is nice. Eating with the squad. We should do this more often. Maybe at the gym! Post-training feast!¡± ¡°Define ''we,¡¯¡± Mellissa muttered. ¡°If you''re expecting me to lift weights or ¡®feast¡¯ after sweating, count me out.¡± June bumped her shoulder. "Oh, c''mon! One day, we¡¯re dragging you out. You¡¯ll thank us." ¡°I won¡¯t.¡± ¡°You will.¡± Denwen just leaned back, observing the whole scene. The soft mall lights glowed like starlight above them, and the laughter from their booth blended with the general hum of the night. For a moment, the worries of school, rankings, and futures felt far away. Just friends. Just food. Just peace. Until Jay suddenly slapped the table. "Next week! Eating contest! I challenge you all!" Roy groaned. "Bro... No." Nicole raised her hand. "I''m in." "Same," Jay said, eyes shining. ¡°Let¡¯s make this legendary.¡± Mellissa sighed. "Why am I still here?" June grinned. ¡°Because deep down, you love us.¡± And Mellissa, with a soft, barely-there smile, didn''t argue. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. --- Away from the food court chaos, on the upper level of the mall, Garrick Clifford strolled with casual confidence. The night was buzzing, the neon glow of the storefronts painting the crowd in soft blues and purples. People moved in waves, and overhead, soft instrumental music filled the air. Garrick adjusted his lightweight jacket, the emblem of Ashvale¡¯s 3rd Tactical Unit stitched boldly on the shoulder. Beside him walked Corbin, one of his squad members, reviewing a holo-screen displaying mission details. ¡°You sure about the dispatch?¡± Corbin asked. ¡°The HQ brief sounded... heavy, we would need to head back to confirm the brief properly.¡± ¡°Yeah, I know¡± Garrick replied, his gaze lazily scanning the crowd below. ¡°High-priority stuff. Probably nothing we haven''t handled before.¡± But his words trailed off as his eyes locked onto a familiar blonde head seated at a packed booth below. ¡°No way. That little brat¡¯s actually outside?¡± He smirked, nodded for Corbin to go ahead, and made his way down the glass escalator, weaving easily through the crowd until he stood right behind the table where the group was mid-banter. --- ¡°Hey, Roy.¡± Before anyone even noticed him approaching, Garrick ruffled Roy¡¯s hair with one large hand, completely wrecking his carefully styled look. Roy jolted. ¡°Uncle! Come on... not here!¡± Everyone turned at once, eyes widening as they recognized Garrick Clifford in the flesh. ¡°No way¡­¡± Logan murmured, his eyes briefly flicking up from his milk and cookies. ¡°You¡¯re Captain Clifford... from the 3rd Unit.¡± Jay''s chicken wing paused mid-air. "The 3rd Unit? Seriously?" ¡°Yeah,¡± Logan continued, now fully paying attention. ¡°They¡¯ve been in the news. Completed back-to-back clears on high-risk missions without a single casualty. They¡¯re considered one of the best squads in the city right now.¡± ¡°Hey, you didn¡¯t tell me you had such a high-profile uncle as well,¡± Denwen said June practically glowed. ¡°You¡¯re that Garrick Clifford? Wow¡­ I¡¯ve always wanted to see someone from an elite squad in action.¡± Her eyes trailed over Garrick¡¯s tall frame and broad shoulders with obvious appreciation. Her eyes looking down on his well-structured body that was visible through his body-tight uniform with very unholy thoughts going through her mind. Mellissa seeing her friend going off the deep end stepped on her foot under the table, making June jolt and straighten up. ¡°W-What? I was just being polite.¡± Garrick laughed at their antics, finally releasing Roy¡¯s head and giving the boy a hearty slap on the back. "Look at you, out here socializing. Proud of you, kid.¡± Roy sighed, his blush refusing to die down. ¡°Please don¡¯t make a scene.¡± Garrick shrugged, already taking a seat at the end of the table. ¡°Too late, you know what¡± He glanced at their trays, then waved down a passing staff member. ¡°Listen, get whatever you all want. It¡¯s on me.¡± A pause. Then, as if summoned by divine intervention, Jay stood like a man reborn. ¡°Another round of protein!¡± he declared, dramatically raising his hand. Nicole immediately followed suit. ¡°Triple scoops of the galaxy swirl ice cream! With extra toppings!¡± Denwen groaned. ¡°You guys have no shame.¡± Roy buried his face in his hands. "I''m never living this down." Garrick smirked, resting his chin on his fist. "What¡¯s family for, huh?" --- While the food court buzzed and plates clattered, the group settled into a surprisingly comfortable rhythm. Jay dominated the protein like it was a final boss battle. Nicole gleefully devoured her mountain of ice cream, despite Denwen¡¯s attempts to slow her down. June was still sneaking glances at Garrick, and Mellissa looked like she regretted agreeing to stay but couldn¡¯t find the willpower to leave. Kara sipped her drink with a relaxed expression, occasionally throwing a smile Denwen¡¯s way. Logan, even with all the noise, kept quietly munching his cookies, the glowing interface of his eyepiece shifting between tabs as if he were reading news reports mid-bite. And Garrick just watched them all, a proud glint in his eye. "Good crew you''ve got here," he said to Roy. Roy looked around at the laughter and chaos. ¡°Yeah... they¡¯re not bad.¡± Garrick leaned closer to Roy, his tone dropping into something quieter, more sincere. ¡°Your dad¡¯s proud of you, y''know.¡± Roy looked away, picking at his fries. "Yeah, right." ¡°I mean it. He¡¯s just... bad at saying stuff. Always has been. But after your last evaluation, he couldn¡¯t shut up about you at HQ.¡± Roy blinked. "Really?" Garrick nodded. "Talked about your control, your skill, your rank and even your potential. He''s watching, even if he doesn''t always show it." Roy didn''t reply immediately, but a faint, almost embarrassed smile crept onto his face. ¡°Thanks¡­ I guess.¡± Dungeon Break (1) On the far outskirts of Ashvale, beyond the bustling streets and towering mage academies, lay a modest village cradled by golden fields and sleepy hills. Time seemed slower here. Where the city pulsed with arcane light and distant thunder of awakened combat drills, the village exhaled quietly beneath the soft hues of dusk. The roads were nothing more than well-worn dirt paths, their edges lined with simple wooden fences and low stone walls. Lanterns of dull crystal light flickered to life, casting a gentle amber glow across the cottages, each roof thatched and patched from years of wear. Smoke curled lazily from chimneys as the scent of stews and baked breads drifted through the air. Children ran barefoot across the open fields, their laughter carrying on the evening breeze. A group of them had gathered near the edge of a small irrigation stream, balancing on wooden planks laid as makeshift bridges. ¡°Bet you can¡¯t cross without falling in!¡± a freckled boy challenged, his patched tunic flapping as he skipped across the narrow board. ¡°You¡¯re on!¡± shouted another, a girl with tangled hair and dirt-smudged cheeks, gripping a stick like a sword as she ran after him. Near the cottages, older women sat in quiet circles, knitting or darning old clothes beneath the last rays of sunlight. They hummed soft tunes, occasionally glancing up to call out warnings to the children or greet passing neighbors with gentle nods. A few tended small gardens, pulling weeds with practiced hands, whispering about the coming harvest and the rumors from the city. At the village¡¯s only bar¡ªa simple wooden structure with creaky steps and faded signage¡ªtwo rank 2 patrol officers leaned back in their chairs, their uniforms slightly unbuttoned and wrinkled from the heat of the day. "Why is it that we get posted out here of all places?" the younger one groaned, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced around the nearly empty room. "Nothing ever happens." Across from him, his partner gave a lazy shrug, lifting a worn mug to his lips. "Come on. I¡¯d rather rot in peace out here than dodge spellfire on the frontlines. You ever seen a Gamma-class beast up close? No thanks." The younger officer scoffed. "Yeah, well, my sword was made for battle, not for scaring off stray dogs and checking farmer permits." ¡°On the bright side,¡± his partner smirked as a young barmaid approached, her brown hair tied back neatly under a faded scarf, ¡°the pay¡¯s decent.¡± She offered a tired smile as she set down two wooden mugs filled with frothy mead. ¡°Evening, officers. Anything else?¡± ¡°Just keep them coming,¡± the younger one muttered. --- Out on the Fields A little ways from the village center, the fields stretched wide and golden, swaying softly under the evening breeze. Here, men worked with the tired rhythm of habit, sweat gleaming on their brows as they tended the last of the day''s chores. Some were low-ranked mages, using minor water spells to pull moisture from the air, guiding thin streams of water across the dry earth to soften the soil. In the distance, a large, slow-moving beast plodded through the rows. The Toothless Bull, a rank one beast known for its harmless demeanor and strange, straw-like tongue, tugged lazily at a tree stump, sucking out its essence with long, slurping pulls. Harnessed to a wooden plow, it dragged the tool through the dirt with heavy, steady steps. Near the edge of the field, Charles straightened with a groan, pressing a gloved hand to his back. His white singlet was soaked through, streaked with dirt and dust, while his straw hat hung loosely over his dark hair, shielding his weary eyes from the setting sun. ¡°Man... I¡¯m exhausted,¡± he sighed, leaning on the handle of his hoe. "Can¡¯t wait to get home. My wife promised pudding tonight. Her good one, with the caramel drizzle. You should stop by, Josef." Nearby, Josef looked up from where he was kneeling, adjusting the irrigation line. His own shirt was a loose green tunic, sleeves rolled up past his elbows, and his pants had been patched at the knees from years of wear. ¡°Don¡¯t joke about things like that,¡± Josef whispered dramatically as he joined Charles, wiping sweat from his brow. He leaned closer. ¡°Seriously, though... don¡¯t go telling everyone. You know how the others get when pudding''s involved.¡± The two shared a quiet laugh. But as the sun dipped lower and the sky shifted from gold to deep lavender, the mood softened. ¡°My boy keeps going on about this new video game all the kids in town have,¡± Josef said, running a hand through his short, graying hair. ¡°Been saving for months. Hopefully, the harvest''s good enough to cover it.¡± Charles nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the village lamps were beginning to glow. ¡°Sigh... Sometimes I wonder where we¡¯d be if I¡¯d scored higher at Awakening,¡± he muttered, fingers tapping idly on the wooden handle of his hoe. "A damned D-grade. Useless. Maybe we wouldn¡¯t be stuck out here, breaking our backs for scraps." Josef was quiet for a moment, then sat back in the dirt, legs stretched out. ¡°You can¡¯t change the past, brother,¡± he said simply, his voice steady. "But we can still build something for them. Our kids¡­ they don¡¯t have to live like this. Maybe one day, they get out of here. Better schools. Better homes. Better lives.¡± Charles glanced down at him, then up at the darkening sky. Lantern light flickered along the village paths. Somewhere, a child¡¯s laughter echoed faintly. ¡°Yeah,¡± he said softly. ¡°For them.¡± For a few minutes, neither man spoke. The fields quieted, the last of the day''s work winding down. In the distance, someone rang the village bell, signaling the end of the shift and the start of evening meals. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Josef stood and offered his hand. ¡°Come on. Let¡¯s get you that pudding.¡± Charles chuckled and took it, both of them heading back toward the village, the warmth of home calling them through the cooling night. --- The sun had barely kissed the edge of the horizon when the first shiver ran through the fields. It started as a subtle hum¡ªso faint it was almost imagined. The gentle clinking of tools and idle chatter among the farmers were slowly drowned beneath a low, vibrating pulse that seemed to rise from the very earth itself. The wind shifted, carrying with it a static charge that tingled against the skin. Hairs lifted on arms and the back of necks. The golden fields, moments ago bathed in evening calm, stiffened as if holding their breath. At the center of the field, the Toothless Bull froze mid-step. Its thick tongue hung limp from its mouth as its black eyes widened. With a low, uneasy grunt, it stepped backward, hooves sinking into the softened soil. Its entire body trembled as it raised its flat snout, sniffing the air. Without warning, the beast turned sharply and bolted, dragging its heavy harness behind it with wild, panicked thuds. A few farmers looked up from their work, confused. ¡°The hell¡¯s gotten into it?¡± Charles murmured, gripping his hoe tighter as a cold wave passed over him. Before Josef could answer, a sudden whip of wind tore through the fields, carrying with it a pressure that made their hearts pound out of rhythm. The essence in the air¡ªnormally calm and invisible¡ªbegan to swirl, thick and oppressive. The soil vibrated beneath their feet. The distant trees shivered despite the absence of a storm. And then came the sound. A low groan¡ªlike metal grinding against stone¡ªechoed across the open land. It reverberated in their chests, growing louder and more distorted as if something immense was straining to push through the very fabric of the world. From the bar, the two officers snapped upright, mugs forgotten as they exchanged glances. Across the village, others emerged from their posts, hands already tightening around hilts and staves. ¡°Gate,¡± the older officer hissed. ¡°That¡¯s a gate forming.¡± They moved without hesitation. In less than a minute, twenty officers in worn but well-maintained uniforms sprinted toward the fields, kicking up dust as they moved in practiced formation. Mana shields shimmered into existence with low hums of power, casting translucent barriers of green and blue across the village perimeter. A few officers began setting down mana anchors, embedding glowing spikes into the ground that connected in arcs of light¡ªforming an early containment grid. ¡°Everyone back!¡± one of them barked, voice amplified through a minor wind spell. "Farmers to the square! Move quickly but stay calm!" Despite the sudden orders, the farmers grumbled with a tense sort of acceptance. In rural life, gates were rare, but not unheard of. Especially green gates. Rank one. Manageable. The officers were competent. The shields were up. This was supposed to be just another drill with a bit of real danger. Josef dusted off his pants and sighed. ¡°Probably some small fry popping out. Guess we¡¯re drinking late tonight.¡± Charles nodded but couldn¡¯t shake the cold creeping down his spine. Something felt wrong. In the heart of the field, the air folded on itself. The swirling essence converged into a spiraling core of color and sound. The space cracked, not like glass but like something ancient and deep, and from that fracture bloomed a gate. A shimmering green oval formed¡ªabout twice the height of a man. Its surface rippled like a sheet of water suspended upright, the inside swirling with dull light. Relief rippled through the officers. Green. Rank one. Just as they''d hoped. ¡°Standard protocol,¡± the squad leader ordered. ¡°Send notice to HQ, prep extraction. We can handle this.¡± An officer nodded and tapped the side of his comm crystal. But before he could speak, the green light began to pulse¡ªonce, twice¡ªand then darkened. Everyone froze. The gentle hum twisted into a high-pitched screech. The wind doubled, whipping cloaks and hats from their owners. Essence flared, sharp as daggers in the air, crackling in wild arcs across the containment grid. The gate shifted color. First blue. Then deep indigo. And then... purple. A Rank 3 Gate. The field fell silent except for the wind''s howl. The Toothless Bull, already halfway down the road, bellowed in pure terror and kept running. The farmers who hadn¡¯t yet made it back toward the village square stumbled and looked back, mouths agape. The officers¡¯ shields flickered under the sheer weight of the essence being pulled into the growing tear in reality. Mana anchors sparked and buckled as if reconsidering their loyalty to the earth. No one spoke for a moment. The air was thick with the scent of damp soil and raw, untamed power. A low, vibrating drone seemed to pierce through bone and thought. Then came the whisper from one of the officers, voice barely louder than the wind: ¡°...We¡¯re screwed.¡± The squad leader¡¯s hands trembled as he rechecked the readings on his crystal. ¡°This wasn¡¯t supposed to happen,¡± he muttered, voice thin. ¡°It was green. It was just green¡­¡± Charles and Josef, now standing near the edge of the field, could do little more than watch as the officers scrambled, sending frantic messages to the nearest stations and deploying additional layers of shields that immediately groaned under the pressure. Dungeon Outbreak (2) There were about 40 officers present in the village, ranging from Peak Rank One to Peak Rank Two, each equipped with solid weapons refined to match their individual classes. In precise and practiced formation, the Tanks had already formed a fortified wall in front of the gate, their shields grounded and linked, bracing for any sudden breakout. Spearmen stood by their sides, their spear tips angled forward like a field of steel, while the Swordsmen lined up behind, ready to fill any gap or finish what broke through. At the rear, Archers and Mages had positioned themselves on raised ground, long-range attacks primed and waiting for the command. This was protocol. Especially for abnormal gates like this one. Raid it first. Clear it before it breaks. Prevent the disaster. But as the purple glow of the gate continued to pulse stronger, growing darker and thicker with streaks of black essence, many began to realize¡­ This might not go the way protocol intended. --- At the village square, Healers and low-level Mages worked frantically to evacuate the remaining families, guiding them into the Dome Sanctuary and securing its defenses. Several Defensive Artifacts hummed to life, resonating in tune with the hexagonal structure of the dome, casting a faint purple glow over the villagers inside. Even as fear crept in, the villagers felt slightly reassured knowing the dome was powered by four Peak Rank One mages and two low Rank Two mages working in shifts. But those with sharper senses knew better. They could feel the weight in the air. The swirling essence wasn¡¯t calming. It was building. And building. ________________________________________ ¡°Earth mages! Dig a trench now! Raise the walls and activate the sanctuary dome! I want mana coursing through those artifacts nonstop!¡± the head captain shouted, his voice cutting through the wind as dust and energy filled the air. ¡°Yes, sir!¡± a group of earth mages responded, slamming their hands into the dirt as the ground shifted, walls rising in layers and sealing the perimeter. The captain¡¯s eyes stayed fixed on the gate. His mind spun through every possibility. Why is the dispatch taking this long? The thought haunted him, looping over and over. He maintained a strong front, but deep down, his gut twisted violently. I can¡¯t send my men into that gate. Not like this. The moment they cross, it''s death. He exhaled slowly, calculating every route. Best case¡­ the gate holds until reinforcements arrive. Worst case¡­ His eyes narrowed on the darkening gate. Worst case¡­ we retreat, if we¡¯re lucky. If the boss doesn''t cross over first. --- ¡°Trevor! Come here!¡± the captain called out. Trevor jogged over, his uniform damp with sweat, his breaths uneven. ¡°Sir!¡± ¡°Get inside the dome.¡± Trevor frowned. ¡°Sir? Wouldn¡¯t I be more help out here? I can reinforce the earth wall, maybe slow the breakout¡ª¡± ¡°Trevor.¡± The captain¡¯s tone silenced him immediately. ¡°You¡¯re Peak Rank One. Out here, that¡¯s not enough. In there, you¡¯re the best earth mage we¡¯ve got. Those people are going to need weapons, lots of them. Axes, spears, swords¡ªwhatever you can craft. I need you keeping them armed for the worst-case scenario.¡± Trevor clenched his jaw. ¡°But sir¡ª¡± ¡°No buts,¡± the captain cut him off, lowering his voice. ¡°Listen¡­ we can handle the Rank One mobs. Maybe. But when Rank Twos start coming through, even I¡¯m going to struggle. If the boss steps through before help arrives... it won¡¯t matter how many walls you raise out here.¡± If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. He paused, looking Trevor square in the eyes. ¡°If the dome falls... you''re the last line of defense for everyone inside. I need you in there, understood?¡± Trevor swallowed hard. ¡°Understood, sir.¡± ¡°Good man. Go.¡± --- Inside the Dome Sanctuary, panic quietly stirred. Families huddled together. Mothers held children close. Fathers scanned the gate from a distance, their faces pale. The dome hummed faintly, the mana-infused walls shimmering with protective light, but even that wasn¡¯t enough to ease the atmosphere. Josef moved quickly with his wife at his side, his son held tight in his arms. They settled near the center of the sanctuary as the energy from the dome rippled around them. ¡°Daddy¡­ are we going to be okay?¡± his son asked quietly, his little fingers clinging to Josef¡¯s shirt. Josef smiled faintly, even though his heart was pounding. ¡°Of course we are, champ. There are warriors and mages out there stronger than your old man. They¡¯re going to clear that gate before you know it.¡± His wife glanced at him. She didn¡¯t say anything, but her eyes told him she wasn¡¯t convinced either. Nearby, Trevor was already at work, kneeling on the ground, pulling stone from the earth and shaping it into sharp, solid weapons. ¡°Hey Josef,¡± Charles whispered, gesturing toward Trevor. ¡°Does it look like that mage is... struggling?¡± Josef followed his gaze. Trevor¡¯s hands were trembling. His face was pale, sweat running down his jawline as his mana flickered sporadically. Josef exhaled slowly. ¡°Yeah... it¡¯s the strain. Has to be.¡± ¡°Right¡­¡± Charles muttered. ¡°Let¡¯s just hope help comes soon.¡± --- Back at the gate, the captain stood atop the earth wall, the cold night wind whipping against his face. The gate pulsed again, its purple light flashing like a heartbeat, and the air grew heavier. Beside him, Jon held a device, the screen blinking numbers rapidly. ¡°How¡¯s it looking?¡± the captain asked, though he already knew the answer. Jon adjusted his lens, his hand trembling. ¡°Bad, boss. Really bad.¡± The captain said nothing, waiting. ¡°A stable Rank Three gate usually reads between 1,000 to 1,500 essence points,¡± Jon continued, licking his dry lips. ¡°This one¡¯s already at 1,800¡­ and it¡¯s still rising.¡± The wind howled over the walls. Jon glanced at him, his voice barely a whisper. ¡°What happens if it hits 2,000?¡± The captain didn¡¯t hesitate. ¡°It breaks.¡± The silence that followed was heavier than any essence they¡¯d ever felt. ¡°Send another call to command,¡± the captain said softly. ¡°Tell them... if that Rank Three doesn''t get here soon, they can collect our bodies in the morning.¡± "Hold positions! Shields up! Weapons ready!" From within the gate, something stirred. The hum shifted into a low, resonant growl, echoing across the field as shadowed figures began to press against the shimmering surface. The first Rank One mobs were ready to spill out. But behind them¡­ Larger shapes loomed. Thicker essence poured through. The gate wasn¡¯t just rising. It was feeding. Growing. The first wave hadn¡¯t even come through yet, and already, the air tasted like blood. The captain closed his eyes for a brief moment. Just hold... hold until the Rank Three arrives... But as the gate darkened further, deep down, he knew. Help wasn¡¯t coming in time. Dungeon Outbreak (3) The air had turned thick. Too thick. Essence pulsed like an invisible heartbeat, pounding through the atmosphere, growing stronger with every passing second. From within the village square, the faint murmurs of fearful families rose beneath the protective dome, yet no voice dared to carry too loud, as though even a whisper might provoke the horror festering at the gate. The tension wasn¡¯t just in the air ¡ª it had seeped into the skin, into the bones of every man, woman, and child. On the farms, silence had taken over. Only the subtle groans of straining earth mages finishing the last of the barricades broke the dreadful hush. Atop the earth wall, Captain Raynor stood, his eyes locked on the pulsing purple mass of the gate, watching the swirling vortex deepen, twisting and convulsing as if something monstrous on the other side was clawing its way through reality. The wind shifted, carrying a strange, bitter heat that made the hairs on his neck stand on end. And then¡­ it broke. A high, piercing crack ripped through the night, like glass shattering in an empty hall, followed by a low, guttural rumble that made the very ground quiver. The gate flexed outward and collapsed in on itself like a dying star, before blooming open, splitting the sky with an eruption of light and hellish sound. They came in droves. From the gaping maw of the gate, the first wave of Blaze Tail Lynxes burst forth with such speed and violence that several of the officers nearly lost balance on the wall. Their bodies were low and lean, reminiscent of oversized wolves, but with a sleek, almost serpentine agility. Their fur was a deep, infernal black, with veins of molten red running across their bodies, pulsing with the rhythm of an unseen flame. But it was their tails ¡ª long, sinewy appendages engulfed in living fire ¡ª that cut through the night like burning whips, leaving arcing trails of flame in the air and scorched lines across the earth. As they moved, their claws tore up the soil like parchment, their fangs glinting white-hot under the gate''s glow. Each of them snarled with an eerie, guttural shriek that reverberated across the fields. These were not mere disasters. They were predators, tuned perfectly with the fire essence in the atmosphere. Flames clung to them like loyal pets, never flickering out, burning hotter as the creatures rampaged. "Hold formation!" Captain Raynor bellowed, his voice cracking through the fear that clung to the officers like a second skin. "Archers! Fire! Mages, suppress them! Tanks ¡ª brace the wall!" As if waking from a trance, the officers snapped into action. From the backline, glowing arrows streaked through the air, each shot enhanced with piercing runes, finding their mark within the flesh of the oncoming Lynxes. Explosions of flame and gore littered the field, but for every Lynx that fell, two more emerged from the gate, claws scraping, tails lashing, eyes burning with untamed hunger. Water mages did what they could, sending spiraling torrents to snuff out the fires where possible, but the infernal nature of the flames resisted, burning unnaturally bright even beneath the deluge. Raynor vaulted from the wall, twin machetes already glowing like molten iron in his grip, runes along their edges flaring with his essence. As he landed, the earth quaked from the force of his arrival, and with a fluid motion, he swung his blades wide, carving into the first Blaze Tail Lynx that dared to leap at him. The creature''s head separated cleanly from its body, steam rising from the wound as burning blood hissed against the dirt. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Push forward!¡± he commanded, and a squad of ten brave officers surged behind him. Swordsmen and spearmen flanked his sides, their weapons flashing under the glow of the flames. Earth mages shifted the battlefield, making patches of ground slick and unstable, causing Lynxes to slip and stumble just long enough for blades to find their mark. For a time, it almost felt manageable. Until the rank twos arrived. The gate pulsed again, this time with such force that a shockwave rippled across the farmland, knocking weaker men to their knees. And then they came ¡ª larger, deadlier versions of the Blaze Tail Lynx, their bodies nearly the size of carriages, their flames brighter, hotter, more volatile. These were no longer beasts; they were walking infernos with muscle and fang. Their tails cracked like whips, igniting the very air, and when they moved, they became blurs of fire and death. Officer Balen was the first to fall. One moment, he was driving his spear through the flank of a smaller Lynx; the next, a rank two predator crashed into him from the side, its tail wrapping around his body. There was no time to scream. The flame lashed tight, and with a violent tug, Balen was split in two, his charred remains hitting the ground with a sickening wet sound. ¡°Balen!¡± someone cried out, but it was already too late. Another officer, Maren, a swordswoman known for her agility, tried to flank one of the rank twos, aiming for its exposed side. But the beast was faster. Much faster. In the blink of an eye, it twisted around, catching her mid-strike. Its maw clamped down on her torso with bone-crunching finality. She managed only a strangled gasp before the creature shook her like a ragdoll and flung her broken body into a nearby tree with such force that the trunk split. Captain Raynor¡¯s breaths grew ragged as he ducked beneath a sweeping tail, narrowly avoiding a flame arc that would have gutted him alive. He knew the tide was turning. Knew that they couldn¡¯t hold much longer. "Push them back! Form ranks! TANKS, FRONT!" Raynor ordered, but his voice was losing its bite. For every order given, fewer men responded. Still, they fought. Steel clashed against claw, magic roared across the field, and the air became thick with smoke and the stench of burning flesh. The wall still stood, but even the archers and mages atop it were beginning to falter as the battlefield descended into chaos. And then, through the chaos, a voice crackled into Raynor¡¯s earpiece. ¡ª ¡°Captain Raynor. This is HQ. Hold the line. Reinforcements inbound. Captain Garrick of the 3rd Unit is on his way. Estimated arrival¡­ fifteen minutes.¡± Raynor''s heart skipped a beat. Relief. Hope. For the briefest of moments. But then his eyes flicked back to the gate. More shapes, bigger shapes, prowled just beyond the threshold, waiting their turn to enter this world. Rank threes. Maybe worse. ¡°Fifteen minutes¡­¡± he whispered. ¡°Might as well be a lifetime.¡± With a grunt, he swiped the blood from his face and opened his comm again. ¡°Trevor,¡± he said, his voice low, steady despite the storm raging around him. ¡°Begin arming everyone inside the dome. Every able-bodied man and woman. Get the weapons out and start forming lines.¡± There was a pause. Then Trevor¡¯s voice came through, shaken but resolute. ¡ª ¡°Understood.¡± Raynor exhaled slowly, turning his gaze to the inferno ahead, the night lit with the glow of unending flames. And then he charged back into the fray. The Calm Before the Roar The mall had never felt warmer. Not from the flickering lanterns hanging above nor the gentle, ambient glow of the enchanted bulbs tucked into the corners, but from the quiet laughter and shared breaths of people who, for a moment, had nothing to fear. Gathered around a low table stacked high with plates of roasted meats, steaming breads, and freshly brewed teas, the group found themselves sinking into a rare peace. The scents of fire-grilled dishes filled the air, mingling with the faint smell of oil and metal from Garrick¡¯s armor, freshly cleaned yet still marked with the scars of battle. Jay leaned back against the booth, arms stretched lazily across the backrest. "So," he drawled, fighting back a yawn, "when are we getting to the good part? I¡¯m talking about the real stories. Battle stories, Garrick. Don¡¯t hold out on us." Garrick chuckled, the sound low and gravelly. His rugged features softened, eyes crinkling at the corners as he wiped his mouth with the back of his glove. "What, you¡¯re already bored of the basics?" Before Jay could press him further, Mellissa leaned forward, her eyes glinting with an academic sharpness that hadn''t dulled since their first conversation. "Before you go rambling about beheading disasters," she said, adjusting the golden ribbon around her wrist, "I actually had a question. Fundamentals, if you will. As a fire mage¡­ when manipulating external flames, do you control the core essence directly or the surrounding temperature to guide the flame¡¯s behavior?" Garrick, despite not being a mage himself, blinked once in thought before giving a slow, knowing nod. "It¡¯s both. The core essence gives the flame its strength, but the external temperature molds its shape and speed. The real trick is knowing when to prioritize one over the other. Too much control over the core and you burn out fast. Too much focus on the surroundings, and the flame collapses under its own instability." Mellissa hummed, clearly satisfied with the answer, scribbling mental notes as though her life depended on it. "Not bad for someone who can¡¯t even cast a spark." The table erupted with light laughter. Jay was just about to fire back with another demand for gory tales when Corbin, who had been lingering nearby with his usual silent vigilance, suddenly leaned down beside Garrick, his lips barely moving as he whispered something into the captain''s ear. Whatever was said, it drained the humor from Garrick¡¯s face instantly. His brow furrowed, lips pressing into a tight line. His fingers flexed around the handle of his cup as though imagining it was the body of his spear. Without so much as a word to the group, Garrick pushed back his chair, his movements sharp and purposeful. "Where you off to?" Roy asked, his voice cutting through the quiet tension that had settled over the table. Garrick''s gaze lingered on them for a moment before he exhaled through his nose. "Got a call. Nearby. Some mess that needs cleaning, and I¡¯m closest. Shouldn¡¯t take long." Roy sat forward. "Then we¡¯ll come." "Yeah!" Jay agreed, practically bouncing in his seat. "What¡¯s the point of sitting around if there¡¯s work to be done? Unawakened need help too." Even Nicole, typically more reserved, nodded firmly. "If we can support in any way, we should." Corbin scoffed immediately, his arms folding over his chest. "Out of the question. It''s not safe. You¡¯ll be nothing but a hindrance out there. These aren¡¯t practice drills. People are dying." The words hung heavy in the air. But none of them backed down. Not even Mellissa, who tilted her head slightly, her lips curling into the faintest smirk. "We know. All the more reason to help." This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Garrick¡¯s eyes swept across the table, noting the steel behind their stares. Kids. Too young to understand the weight of what they were asking. But there was something else. Something older beneath those youthful exteriors. Something he couldn''t quite place. After a moment''s pause, Garrick leaned toward Corbin, murmuring something too low for the others to hear. Corbin''s jaw tightened. He looked as though he might protest, but after a frustrated exhale, he gave a stiff nod. "Fine," Corbin growled. "But you follow every command exactly as it''s given. One mistake and you''re out." The group rose from their seats with quiet determination, the air shifting from one of warmth and laughter to something colder. Heavier. ¡ª Back at the town, the night had become a battlefield of smothered screams and distant roars. The protective dome glowed faintly behind them, offering sanctuary only to those who could no longer fight. The elderly. The children. The wounded. But outside its pale light, the able-bodied had joined the fray. Men and women who had never picked up weapons before now wielded them with shaking hands and desperate hearts. The air stank of ash and blood, a suffocating mixture that made every breath feel like inhaling smoke. Captain Raynor''s machetes were drenched in black blood, the runes along their lengths still burning with essence as he clashed with a Rank 2 Blaze Tail Lynx. The beast was relentless, its flaming tail whipping through the air with such force that the ground itself sizzled wherever it struck. Raynor sidestepped, his movements sharp and practiced, yet even he was beginning to slow. He could feel it ¡ª the weight of exhaustion pressing into his limbs, the sluggish pull of overextended essence gnawing at his core. The Lynx roared again, and Raynor barely managed to deflect its fangs with a swift upward slash. And then the air changed. It wasn¡¯t gradual. One moment the battlefield was filled with the familiar sounds of combat ¡ª metal against claw, magic against flame ¡ª and the next, silence. A silence so profound it felt as though the very essence of the world had been sucked away. The first to feel it were the mages. Their spells faltered mid-cast. The flow of essence from the earth slowed, as if nature itself recoiled. Then came the roar. It wasn''t just a sound. It was an event. A phenomenon that cracked the air and made the ground tremble. It rolled over the battlefield like a storm surge, ripping through the hearts of every fighter and freezing them in place. Even the Rank 2 Lynxes paused, their heads turning toward the gate with something that almost resembled fear. From the gate, a shadow emerged. Larger than anything Raynor had ever seen outside the old war chronicles. The Rank 3 Blaze Tail Lynx moved like a nightmare given flesh, its body stretching nearly twice the size of a transport truck, its fur a molten mass of living flame. Its eyes glowed with a malicious, intelligent hatred. And its tail ¡ª gods help them ¡ª its tail burned white-hot, the flames no longer bound to mere orange and red, but shifting into hues of blinding blue. "Rank... three," Raynor whispered, his voice barely audible. Despair spread like a plague. Those who had fought bravely until now faltered. Swords wavered. Shields dropped an inch lower. Spells fizzled out before completion. This was no longer a fight. It was survival. Barely. Raynor tightened his grip on his machetes, his jaw clenching as the Rank 3 let out another thunderous roar, its voice rolling across the battlefield like an omen. Somewhere, deep inside, he knew the worst had only just begun. When Night Burns Blue The night over the village had fallen into a dreadful silence, save for the hum of the dome and the faint crackle of distant flames. It was a fragile peace, brittle and trembling on the edge of collapse. And collapse it did. From within the monstrous, swirling mass of the gate, something ancient and cruel stirred. The air rippled with suffocating heat as the Blazebane Howler stepped forward¡ªno rush, no frantic scurrying like the lesser disasters that had poured from the rift before. This was different. This was deliberate. Its enormous frame emerged, towering over the battlefield like a god of fire and ruin. Thick, coarse fur, blackened like smoldering coal, rippled with every movement, and along its back, deep blue flames licked and twisted like serpents, casting ghostly lights across the scorched earth. Its long tail flicked lazily behind it, every pass through the air releasing shimmering arcs of flame that painted the night in streaks of deadly cobalt. Where its paws pressed into the ground, the earth itself seemed to ignite. Not red. Not orange. But blue¡ªa hue that was never meant to belong to fire, a color that whispered of heat so intense it transcended normal flame. This was elemental fire, the kind only disasters of the highest tier could manipulate. Fire that obeyed no ordinary laws. Fire that consumed not just matter but the very essence of life itself. And then it roared. A guttural, earth-shattering sound, so deep and vast it felt like it rose from the core of the world itself. The Blazebane Howler''s roar wasn¡¯t merely heard¡ªit was felt, vibrating through the bones of every fighter present. It was a command to its kin, and they obeyed. The rank two lynx scattered across the field lifted their snouts and howled back, their bodies invigorated by the dominion of their master. Their eyes gleamed brighter. Their speed doubled. Their attacks grew savage, ruthless beyond what any of the soldiers had encountered thus far. And as the echoes faded, so did the last vestige of hope. The earth wall, hastily erected and reinforced with layers of essence, crumbled like dust beneath the resonance of that roar. Large cracks tore through it as if invisible hands had smashed it from the inside. Before anyone could blink, sections of the defense simply collapsed in on themselves, leaving only broken stone and open sky. Captain Raynor, panting, the blood of slain lynx staining his twin machetes, stood atop the rubble, eyes wide as the colossal figure lounged at the gate''s mouth. ¡°That¡¯s... a Blazebane Howler,¡± he muttered, voice hoarse as ash-laden wind battered his face. He turned and shouted, his voice cutting across the chaos. ¡°Everyone retreat! Back to the dome! Now!¡± The command was absolute. Raynor swung his blades, finishing off the stunned rank two lynx before him, cleaving through its neck in one smooth, practiced motion, its body falling limp as embers escaped from its wounds. ¡°We won¡¯t last another minute out here! Every second we stay, that thing feeds its minions! If we don''t pull back, we won''t even get the chance to fight the dungeon boss!¡± They ran. Fifteen fighters left from what had once been nearly forty. Some sprinted. Some stumbled. Others weren¡¯t fast enough. A young officer¡ªbarely past his first year¡ªwas the first to fall, his leg snagged by a rank two lynx, its flaming maw tearing into his back before he could scream. He thrashed, sword scraping uselessly against its hide, before he was dragged back into the sea of snarling bodies. Another, a spearman, tried to cover his comrades¡¯ retreat, spinning his essence-forged spear with desperate precision. For a moment, it seemed he might hold. But then, three lynx leapt upon him at once, pinning him down as teeth and claws tore him apart, his dying roars drowned beneath their growls. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Raynor heard every death. Felt each loss like a blow to his own ribs. But they had no choice. The survivors slammed into the sanctuary of the dome just as the first of the lynx battered themselves against its shimmering walls. The entire structure hummed with the strain of the assault, the hexagonal panels flickering with ripples of lavender light as the mages within fought to maintain the barrier. And from outside the dome, the Blazebane Howler watched. Silent. Patient. It barely cared for the skirmish unfolding at its feet. Instead, it lowered its body onto its haunches, like a king observing a pitiful rebellion. The ground blackened beneath its weight, and the very air grew thinner, filled with the scent of ozone and ash. When it opened one glowing eye to survey the scene, the pressure was so intense that even from behind the safety of the dome, Raynor felt his knees weaken. Then its tail lifted. The blue flames along its length condensed, coiling inwards like a serpent ready to strike. The night itself seemed to pulse as the light grew unbearably bright, and then the flames snapped forward¡ªa singular beam of searing blue fire that shot across the battlefield and tore through the dome''s side like paper. One of the supporting mages screamed as the inferno washed over him, his body reduced to cinders before he could even register his own death. For a heartbeat, silence. And then the lynx poured in. Raynor fought. They all fought. Josef and Charles struck with everything they had, blades flashing, essence burning away in their desperation. But the flood was too much. Josef fell first, overrun by three lynx that tore him down before he could raise his shield. Charles tried to pull him back and was met with fangs at his throat, his final gurgled breath lost amidst the chaos. Raynor backed into a corner, breath ragged, the last of his energy dripping away like a leaking faucet. He swung his twin machetes weakly, feeling the inevitable crawling closer with every second. A rank two lynx lunged¡ªand then, it didn¡¯t. A gale of wind, cold and fierce, ripped through the battlefield, sweeping away the lynx at the entrance in a sudden, thunderous burst. Raynor blinked. For the first time in what felt like hours, he breathed. ¡°Finally... reinforcements.¡± Corbin floated down from the skies, his figure illuminated in the moonlight, robes fluttering as currents of air spiraled around him like a living shield. The aura of a mid-rank three wind mage radiated from his body, filling the field with a breeze so strong it felt as if the night itself had shifted in his favor. For a moment, even the Blazebane Howler opened its other eye, staring lazily at him. But as it sensed the Amethyst Purple hue of Corbin¡¯s essence, it scoffed¡ªfiguratively, if not literally¡ªand closed its eye once more. A mid-rank three? Irrelevant. Corbin snorted at the disrespect but knew better than to challenge it directly. ¡°Cover the breach,¡± he ordered, his voice cutting like a blade. ¡°I¡¯ll hold the barrier from here. Kids, help wherever you can¡ªbut stay smart.¡± Above, a hover car hovered just out of reach. From its side door, Garrick stepped out, calm as the night was hot, and as he descended, the air shifted once more. The Royal Purple aura of a peak rank three warrior unleashed itself in full, flooding the battlefield like a rising tide of pure power. Below him, lesser lynx simply collapsed, crushed beneath the sheer weight of it. Even the Blazebane Howler snapped its head up, its eyes narrowing as its own lavender aura surged, and for the first time that night, it stood. The air between them cracked as two titans prepared to collide. A clash not just of strength, but of supremacy. And the night... The night was just getting started. Stepping Into the Inferno The air within the dome was thick with residual heat, the distant echoes of clashing auras sending a constant tremor through the ground. People huddled together, seeking solace in numbers, while others moved frantically to aid the wounded. Denwen stood frozen, his gaze locked onto the sky where two overwhelming forces clashed. The very air seemed to groan beneath the weight of their presence. He could barely fathom it¡ªwas this truly the power of a Peak Rank 3? Garrick''s presence alone seemed to distort the space around him, his deep purple aura surging like a roaring tide. "Is this what it means to be strong?" Denwen murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. Jay, standing beside him, grinned and nudged Roy. "Damn, Uncle¡¯s a monster." Roy didn''t respond immediately, his sharp eyes focused beyond the dome. He saw what Denwen saw¡ªthe destruction, the suffering, the weight of battle pressing down on the people. Children sobbed, their voices raw and hoarse, as they clung to lifeless bodies. A boy, no older than eight, gripped a tattered straw hat, his tiny hands trembling while his mother wrapped her arms around him protectively. The sight stirred something deep within them. Nicole had already rushed off, following Mellissa and Kara as they knelt beside the injured, applying makeshift bandages, whispering reassurances through gritted teeth. Mellissa¡¯s silver hair was matted with sweat and grime, but she didn¡¯t stop. She tore a piece of her own clothing to wrap around a man¡¯s bleeding arm, her hands shaking slightly but her determination unwavering. Roy clenched his fists. "This isn¡¯t right." Denwen''s nails bit into his palms. "We can help." Jay cracked his knuckles. "Then let¡¯s do it." They turned to Corbin, who stood near the damaged section of the dome, his arms raised as he poured his essence into the barrier, reinforcing it. His expression was one of focused exhaustion, but his ears perked when Roy and Jay approached. "Let us go out there," Roy said, his voice firm. "We can take care of the remaining lynx before they regroup. That will make a difference." Corbin didn¡¯t even turn to look at them. "No." Jay frowned. "Why not?" "Because you¡¯re not needed out there," Corbin replied. His voice was even, but there was an undeniable weight behind his words. "The Rank 3 Blazebane Howler might be terrifying, but Garrick is stronger. There¡¯s no need to risk your lives when the battle is already under control." Denwen wasn¡¯t convinced. He turned his head and saw the truth outside the dome¡ªa man trapped beneath a pile of stone, his body pinned while two lynx circled him like starving predators. "Look!" Denwen pointed. "That man is going to die if no one helps him! We can be useful, we can make a difference!" Corbin finally turned to them. His sharp green eyes flickered toward the battlefield, then back at them. "You¡¯re not fast enough to escape a Rank 2," he said coldly. "If one catches you, you¡¯re dead. It¡¯s that simple." The words stung, but Roy refused to back down. He exhaled slowly, then moved. With a swift kick, he launched one of the fallen earthen swords from the ground. The blade spun in the air before his hand snatched it with ease¡ªand at that very moment, his essence burst forth. A light blue aura ignited around his body like a roaring flame, swirling with controlled power. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Corbin¡¯s breath hitched. "What¡ª?" "You said we weren¡¯t fast enough." Roy¡¯s voice was calm, but there was an undeniable confidence in his tone. "I¡¯m a Rank 2. Will that convince you?" Corbin blinked, stunned. A sixteen-year-old in under half his first year of awakening¡­ already a Rank 2? His mind raced back to Garrick¡¯s words from earlier that night. "Let them come with us. It¡¯s only a Rank 3 gate. Let them come and see the reality of life. You just keep them within the dome and let them learn. Besides¡­ I¡¯m sure one or two of them might surprise you." Corbin chuckled softly. "So that¡¯s what you meant, Garrick¡­" His eyes swept over the group¡ªDenwen, Jay, Roy¡ªall of them standing with the fire of determination in their eyes. Even Mellissa had stepped forward now, her silver hair catching the dim glow of the dome¡¯s barrier. "I¡¯m going too," she declared. Corbin¡¯s expression darkened. "No. You are just a young lady, and would be much more useful in here¡± he mentioned and looking carefully at her he saw the unique silver hair she had: ¡°You¡¯re from the Ignisclade Clan. If something happens to you¡ª" "That is right, I am a peak rank 1 Fire mage of the Ignisclade family and if you know a bit about my family you should know..." Her voice cut through the air like a blade. "My place is on the battlefield!" Corbin hesitated. He knew her family¡¯s name carried weight¡ªbut looking at her now, seeing the unwavering resolve in her gaze¡­ He sighed. "Damn brats." With a single hand signal, he gestured for Trevor. "Get them their weapons." Denwen was given a gauntlet, Jay took a heavy mace, testing its weight with a grin. Mellissa didn¡¯t need anything extra¡ªher flames were enough. "Stick together," Corbin ordered. "Roy, you lead. Handle the Rank 1 lynx quickly, hold off any Rank 2 if necessary. Denwen and Jay, focus on recovering the injured and protecting the flanks. Mellissa, stay at the back and provide cover with your flames." The four of them nodded. Corbin raised his hand¡ªand a small section of the dome parted open just enough for them to step through. The moment their feet touched the ground, the battlefield swallowed them whole. --- Above the battlefield, inside the hovering transport¡­ Garrick¡¯s purple essence pulsed in the sky, clashing violently against the purple aura of the Blazebane Howler. The two beings locked eyes¡ªone a seasoned warrior, the other an ancient disaster. The lynx snarled, its razor-sharp fangs glistening under the moonlight as it crouched, its muscular frame coiled like a spring ready to pounce. Garrick smirked as he caught sight of the kids stepping out of the dome. "That took them long enough." His grip tightened around his spear. "Alright, you mutt," he muttered, rolling his shoulders. "We¡¯ve been staring at each other long enough, time to take this to somewhere else" In a blur of motion, Garrick vanished from the sky. The next moment, he reappeared below, using the butt of his spear to slam directly into the underside of the Blazebane¡¯s jaw. BOOM! The massive lynx was lifted off its feet, its body flung backward into the woods, crashing through trees like they were twigs. Garrick spun his spear and chased after it, his deep purple aura trailing behind him like a storm. The battle had truly begun. Wrath of the Blazebane The sky howled with the echoes of battle. A violent gust swept through the charred battlefield as the Blazebane Howler crashed through the forest, its massive form ripping through countless trees, reducing them to splinters. The once-proud canopy of green now lay in ruin, scattered across the land like brittle twigs beneath the weight of a storm. Smoke rose from the crater where the Disaster had landed, its body twitching from the force of Garrick¡¯s previous strike. But it was far from defeated. Garrick descended like a meteor, his spear spinning in a deadly arc, aiming straight for the lynx¡¯s exposed side¡ªbut this time, the beast was ready. BOOM! A shimmering shield of purple essence erupted around the Blazebane, stopping the spear dead in its tracks. The impact sent out a concussive blast, flattening the nearby brush, but Garrick had already expected resistance. His eyes gleamed with anticipation as he dug his boots into the ground, preparing for retaliation. The lynx snarled, its lips peeling back to reveal fangs that glowed with a sickly purple hue. Its tail whipped around, burning sigils flaring to life along its length. Then, it struck. A roaring beam of blue fire shot forth from its tail, the temperature rising to infernal levels in an instant. The sheer intensity of the blast caused the air itself to warp, superheating the battlefield. The trees behind Garrick ignited instantly, turning to blazing pillars as the inferno roared toward him. But Garrick was already moving. He spun his spear, the runes along its shaft igniting in brilliant purple, forming an unbreakable vortex of whirling energy. The beam collided with the spinning spear, its flames splitting apart and dispersing into harmless embers. Garrick grinned, his voice a low murmur beneath the roaring wind. "Predictable." The lynx lunged with frightening speed, its claws aiming straight for his throat. But Garrick twisted mid-air, narrowly evading the attack before slamming the blunt end of his spear into the lynx¡¯s exposed ribcage. CRACK! The Disaster howled in pain, its body skidding backward, tearing deep trenches into the ruined earth. Garrick didn¡¯t relent. His spear lashed out again, this time aimed at the lynx¡¯s left eye. The beast barely managed to raise its mana shield in time, but the force of the strike still sent it reeling. The shield flickered, weakened. "It¡¯s slowing down," Garrick noted, his mind already calculating his next move. --- Back in front the Dome Roy, Denwen, Jay, and Mellissa stood at the battlefield¡¯s edge, watching as the violent waves of energy from the ongoing fight rippled through the air, making their very bones tremble. The sheer scale of the clash between Garrick and the Blazebane was beyond anything they had ever seen. Denwen could still hear the echoes of trees collapsing miles away. But they had no time to admire the fight. A Rank 1 Lynx prowled toward them, its golden eyes locked onto its prey. It barely took a single step before Roy moved. His blade flashed once¡ªand the lynx was cleaved in half. Blood splattered across the cracked dirt as Roy swung the excess from his sword, his expression as cold as steel. Mellissa stepped forward, her silver hair billowing in the rising heat. Her eyes glowed as she brought her palms together, whispering an incantation. Then¡ª FWOOM! A ring of fire erupted around them, its scorching embers rising like vengeful spirits into the night. The flames flickered hungrily, their searing heat warding off any lurking threats. Denwen stared, awed by the sheer scale of her spell. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ a high-level incantation,¡± he muttered. Mellissa smirked, wiping the sweat from her brow. ¡°It should at least cause trouble for the weaker ones,¡± she said casually, though Denwen knew better. That spell wasn¡¯t just powerful¡ªit was draining. For someone at Peak Rank 1, maintaining such a large-scale burn effect required immense mana control. Either she was burning through her reserves dangerously fast, or¡­ Denwen¡¯s eyes narrowed. "She must have an artifact or pill to sustain her mana." Jay gave a whistle, slamming his mace against his palm. ¡°Damn, I almost feel bad for these lynx.¡± Denwen smirked. ¡°Then don¡¯t.¡± They had work to do. While Roy and Mellissa held off the Rank 1 lynx, Denwen and Jay moved swiftly through the wreckage, dragging the injured away from danger. A lynx leaped toward Denwen from behind¡ªbut he was ready. His gauntlet-clad fist slammed into the beast¡¯s skull, sending it reeling. Jay followed up with a mace swing to its ribs, the heavy weapon cracking bones on impact. The beast yelped and stumbled back, its movements sluggish from the fire¡¯s heat. They weren¡¯t just watching anymore. They were fighting. --- The battlefield was unrecognizable. The once-majestic forest had been reduced to scorched ruins, nothing but ash and broken ground stretching for miles. The Blazebane Howler was tattered and wounded. One of its eyes had been destroyed, its body covered in deep gashes that oozed dark essence. Its breaths were ragged, but its hatred burned brighter than ever. Garrick stood tall, his clothes ripped and burned in places, but otherwise unshaken. "This," he murmured, stepping forward, "is the price of baring your fangs at innocent people." He rushed in¡ªbut before his finishing blow could land, a sudden burst of energy erupted from the lynx. Its pupils disappeared. Its entire eyes turned blood-red. Garrick¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Shit.¡± The beast had entered Rampage Mode. A Disaster¡¯s final, desperate act. When pushed beyond its limits, a Disaster could ignite its own essence core, sacrificing itself for an explosive surge of power. But there was no time to think. The lynx¡¯s paw lashed out faster than before, catching Garrick across the chest. BOOM! He was sent flying, crashing through a boulder, his ribs cracking from the impact. The lynx didn¡¯t stop. Its tail ignited, forming rings of burning blue energy as it lashed out repeatedly. Garrick gritted his teeth, spinning his spear to deflect each strike, but the sheer heat was suffocating. "I have to end this¡ªNOW." He took a deep breath, stepping back to gain distance. His hands tightened around his spear. The runes along its length began to glow. The weapon hummed with power, a deep, resounding pulse that shook the air itself. The Blazebane sensed danger. It lunged¡ªone final, desperate attack. Garrick¡¯s eyes snapped open. He launched his spear. The weapon cut through the air like a shooting star, its runes burning with an ethereal glow. The rank 3 lynx activated its shield¡ª But it shattered on impact. The spear buried itself deep into the Disaster¡¯s skull. A heartbeat passed. Garrick raised his palm. ¡°You were a worthy opponent.¡± He clenched his fist. The spear exploded. A shockwave tore through the battlefield, the Disaster¡¯s head shattering into oblivion, its massive body collapsing in utter defeat. Silence. Then¡ª A loud blast echoed through the battlefield. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. 47. Wrath of the Blazebane The sky howled with the echoes of battle. A violent gust swept through the charred battlefield as the Blazebane Howler crashed through the forest, its massive form ripping through countless trees, reducing them to splinters. The once-proud canopy of green now lay in ruin, scattered across the land like brittle twigs beneath the weight of a storm. Smoke rose from the crater where the Disaster had landed, its body twitching from the force of Garrick¡¯s previous strike. But it was far from defeated. Garrick descended like a meteor, his spear spinning in a deadly arc, aiming straight for the lynx¡¯s exposed side¡ªbut this time, the beast was ready. BOOM! A shimmering shield of purple essence erupted around the Blazebane, stopping the spear dead in its tracks. The impact sent out a concussive blast, flattening the nearby brush, but Garrick had already expected resistance. His eyes gleamed with anticipation as he dug his boots into the ground, preparing for retaliation. The lynx snarled, its lips peeling back to reveal fangs that glowed with a sickly purple hue. Its tail whipped around, burning sigils flaring to life along its length. Then, it struck. A roaring beam of blue fire shot forth from its tail, the temperature rising to infernal levels in an instant. The sheer intensity of the blast caused the air itself to warp, superheating the battlefield. The trees behind Garrick ignited instantly, turning to blazing pillars as the inferno roared toward him. But Garrick was already moving. He spun his spear, the runes along its shaft igniting in brilliant purple, forming an unbreakable vortex of whirling energy. The beam collided with the spinning spear, its flames splitting apart and dispersing into harmless embers. Garrick grinned, his voice a low murmur beneath the roaring wind. "Predictable." The lynx lunged with frightening speed, its claws aiming straight for his throat. But Garrick twisted mid-air, narrowly evading the attack before slamming the blunt end of his spear into the lynx¡¯s exposed ribcage. CRACK! The Disaster howled in pain, its body skidding backward, tearing deep trenches into the ruined earth. Garrick didn¡¯t relent. His spear lashed out again, this time aimed at the lynx¡¯s left eye. The beast barely managed to raise its mana shield in time, but the force of the strike still sent it reeling. The shield flickered, weakened. "It¡¯s slowing down," Garrick noted, his mind already calculating his next move. --- Back in front the Dome Roy, Denwen, Jay, and Mellissa stood at the battlefield¡¯s edge, watching as the violent waves of energy from the ongoing fight rippled through the air, making their very bones tremble. The sheer scale of the clash between Garrick and the Blazebane was beyond anything they had ever seen. Denwen could still hear the echoes of trees collapsing miles away. But they had no time to admire the fight. A Rank 1 Lynx prowled toward them, its golden eyes locked onto its prey. It barely took a single step before Roy moved. His blade flashed once¡ªand the lynx was cleaved in half. Blood splattered across the cracked dirt as Roy swung the excess from his sword, his expression as cold as steel. Mellissa stepped forward, her silver hair billowing in the rising heat. Her eyes glowed as she brought her palms together, whispering an incantation. Then¡ª FWOOM! A ring of fire erupted around them, its scorching embers rising like vengeful spirits into the night. The flames flickered hungrily, their searing heat warding off any lurking threats. Denwen stared, awed by the sheer scale of her spell. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ a high-level incantation,¡± he muttered. Mellissa smirked, wiping the sweat from her brow. ¡°It should at least cause trouble for the weaker ones,¡± she said casually, though Denwen knew better. That spell wasn¡¯t just powerful¡ªit was draining. For someone at Peak Rank 1, maintaining such a large-scale burn effect required immense mana control. Either she was burning through her reserves dangerously fast, or¡­ Denwen¡¯s eyes narrowed. "She must have an artifact or pill to sustain her mana." Jay gave a whistle, slamming his mace against his palm. ¡°Damn, I almost feel bad for these lynx.¡± Denwen smirked. ¡°Then don¡¯t.¡± They had work to do. While Roy and Mellissa held off the Rank 1 lynx, Denwen and Jay moved swiftly through the wreckage, dragging the injured away from danger. A lynx leaped toward Denwen from behind¡ªbut he was ready. His gauntlet-clad fist slammed into the beast¡¯s skull, sending it reeling. Jay followed up with a mace swing to its ribs, the heavy weapon cracking bones on impact. The beast yelped and stumbled back, its movements sluggish from the fire¡¯s heat. They weren¡¯t just watching anymore. They were fighting. --- The battlefield was unrecognizable. The once-majestic forest had been reduced to scorched ruins, nothing but ash and broken ground stretching for miles. The Blazebane Howler was tattered and wounded. One of its eyes had been destroyed, its body covered in deep gashes that oozed dark essence. Its breaths were ragged, but its hatred burned brighter than ever. Garrick stood tall, his clothes ripped and burned in places, but otherwise unshaken. "This," he murmured, stepping forward, "is the price of baring your fangs at innocent people." He rushed in¡ªbut before his finishing blow could land, a sudden burst of energy erupted from the lynx. Its pupils disappeared. Its entire eyes turned blood-red. Garrick¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Shit.¡± The beast had entered Rampage Mode. A Disaster¡¯s final, desperate act. When pushed beyond its limits, a Disaster could ignite its own essence core, sacrificing itself for an explosive surge of power. But there was no time to think. The lynx¡¯s paw lashed out faster than before, catching Garrick across the chest. BOOM! He was sent flying, crashing through a boulder, his ribs cracking from the impact. The lynx didn¡¯t stop. Its tail ignited, forming rings of burning blue energy as it lashed out repeatedly. Garrick gritted his teeth, spinning his spear to deflect each strike, but the sheer heat was suffocating. "I have to end this¡ªNOW." He took a deep breath, stepping back to gain distance. His hands tightened around his spear. The runes along its length began to glow. The weapon hummed with power, a deep, resounding pulse that shook the air itself. The Blazebane sensed danger. It lunged¡ªone final, desperate attack. Garrick¡¯s eyes snapped open. He launched his spear. The weapon cut through the air like a shooting star, its runes burning with an ethereal glow. The rank 3 lynx activated its shield¡ª But it shattered on impact. The spear buried itself deep into the Disaster¡¯s skull. A heartbeat passed. Garrick raised his palm. ¡°You were a worthy opponent.¡± He clenched his fist. The spear exploded. A shockwave tore through the battlefield, the Disaster¡¯s head shattering into oblivion, its massive body collapsing in utter defeat. Silence. Then¡ª A loud blast echoed through the battlefield. The Weight of Victory Roy gritted his teeth as his sword locked against the claws of the rank 2 Lynx. The beast was a blur of savage grace, its fur bristling with the remnants of the Blazebane Howler¡¯s empowerment. Every clash sent sparks flying into the darkened battlefield, the air still thick with the scent of scorched earth and blood. The Lynx snarled, twisting its powerful body and lashing out with its hind legs, trying to catch Roy off guard. He pivoted, narrowly avoiding the strike, but the force sent him skidding backward, his boots carving trenches into the ground. The creature lunged again, its fangs bared, but Roy met it with a swift upward slash, forcing it back. He exhaled sharply, sweat trickling down his temple. The battle wasn¡¯t over yet. Then, a thunderous explosion shattered the air. A shockwave of raw essence rippled through the battlefield, momentarily paralyzing everything. Roy felt it in his bones, a crushing weight pressing against his very core. The Blazebane Howler had fallen. The Lynx before him froze, its golden eyes dilating in sudden awareness. It staggered back, as if some invisible tether had been severed, and within seconds, all the remaining Lynx began to retreat. Roy straightened, still gripping his sword tightly as he watched the creatures turn tail and flee toward the dungeon. The battle was over. A short breath of silence followed before Corbin¡¯s voice broke through the stillness. "Finally¡­ the battle is over," he murmured, a tired yet triumphant smile gracing his lips. Denwen, Jay, Mellissa, and Nicole exchanged glances. Part of them wanted to pursue, to ensure none of the beasts remained, but Corbin shook his head. "Let them go," he advised. "Focus on retrieving the cores of the fallen. You all deserve it." Denwen nodded, and without hesitation, they moved across the battlefield. The ground was littered with the corpses of fallen monsters, their forms twisted and broken. The air carried the weight of both victory and loss, the echoes of battle still humming in their ears. From the distance, the low hum of hovercars broke through the night as medical teams finally arrived. Sleek white vehicles hovered just above the ravaged ground, deploying squads of healers and automated drones. Some moved swiftly to aid the wounded villagers, while others began the grim task of recovering the dead. Further back, the glint of camera lenses caught the dim light. Media personnel had arrived, eager to capture the aftermath. They interviewed villagers, recording their shaken voices as they recounted the horrors of the attack and the heroism of the defenders. As the magical dome faded, the sky regained its clarity. The once chaotic battlefield was now bathed in the soft glow of the moon, revealing the full scope of the destruction. Then, with a heavy thud, Garrick landed. A crater formed beneath his feet, and in his hands, he carried the massive, lifeless body of the Blazebane Howler. Blood dripped from his gloves as he looked down at his fallen foe. His expression was unreadable, his battle-worn armor still radiating the heat of his last attack. With a slow, deliberate motion, he thrust his hand into the Howler¡¯s chest. The sound of tearing flesh filled the quiet air before he withdrew his hand, revealing a pulsing, radiant core. It gleamed with an eerie blue light, the essence within still trembling from the recent fight. He studied it for a moment before glancing toward the dungeon gate. The once menacing entrance, pulsating with ominous purple energy, had dimmed. The light within faded from deep violet to a more stable, controlled blue. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. The disaster had ended. "And from disaster," Garrick murmured, closing his fist around the core, "comes blessings." He turned, tossing the Howler¡¯s corpse toward the village elders. "Use it well. It belongs to you." The village chief, an elderly man with deep lines of worry etched into his face, nodded solemnly. This corpse was worth a fortune¡ªa single Blazebane could provide years¡¯ worth of materials, food, and essence-infused resources. For the village, this wasn¡¯t just survival. It was a chance to thrive. Denwen, meanwhile, was beaming. He had gathered over thirty rank 1 cores, each one a small but significant step in his growth. But the real treasures were the two rank 2 cores in his hand. He turned to Roy, extending them without hesitation. "I can¡¯t use these, but you can," he said simply. Roy eyed them before shaking his head. "Then take mine in exchange." Denwen¡¯s eyes widened as Roy handed over his own collected rank 1 cores. The total in Denwen¡¯s possession now numbered nearly fifty¡ªa fortune for someone at his level. The others shared their own victories. Mellissa had gathered a respectable number of cores herself, and Nicole¡¯s swift work had saved countless lives. Jay, though battered, stood proudly with his own share of spoils. Then, Garrick and Corbin approached. "I saw what you did out there," Corbin said, his voice laced with approval. "You impressed me. Perhaps after your three year study you can consider joining us, we¡¯d be happy to have useful talents like you lot" Garrick gave them all a long, considering look. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he tossed a small object toward them¡ªa spatial ring. "Store your spoils in this," he said. "Consider it a reward for your efforts." Denwen caught it, marveling at the artifact. Spatial rings weren¡¯t cheap, but Garrick had handed it over like it was nothing. The gang exchanged smiles, but the weight of the battle still lingered. Denwen¡¯s gaze drifted across the field. He saw Nicole kneeling beside a crying boy, gently whispering reassurances. He saw the village¡¯s survivors, many with vacant eyes, mourning the homes and loved ones they had lost. Kara stepped beside him. "Even though we won," she said softly, "and the village is in a better place now¡­ the battle left scars that can¡¯t be healed." Denwen clenched his fists. "If only we were stronger," he muttered. "If we arrived earlier, none of this would¡¯ve happened." A sharp pang settled in his chest. Victory tasted hollow when it came at such a cost. Nearby, Logan activated a series of small, spider-like drones, their mechanical legs clicking against the dirt as they assisted in carrying the wounded. His face was dark with frustration. "I hate this feeling," he admitted. "I hate being useless." Jay placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, nodding in silent understanding. Mellissa, meanwhile, remained quiet, her expression shadowed. Her hands trembled slightly before she clenched them into fists. She had performed well today¡ªbetter than most¡ªbut it wasn¡¯t enough. Not yet. This battle had made one thing clear. They all had to get stronger. As the village worked to rebuild, as the media captured the remnants of destruction, as the night air settled once more¡­ Each of them made the same silent vow. This would never happen again. The Fires That Burn The Emberbane Household, The grand dining hall of the Emberbane estate was a marvel of decadence¡ªtall obsidian pillars lined the chamber, each carved with roaring flames that seemed to flicker under the warm golden light of floating mana-lamps. A long table of polished obsidian stretched down the hall, its surface laden with steaming platters of roasted beast meat, golden-crusted poultry, and exotic side dishes garnished with glowing spices. Silverware gleamed under the light, and crystal goblets of aged wine reflected the flickering embers from the fireplace at the end of the room. At the head of the table sat Valerian Emberbane, his very presence suffocating. His crimson-red eyes held the weight of command, and his broad frame exuded dominance, as if the very air bent to his will. He was not merely a patriarch¡ªhe was a ruler in his own right. Beside him, his wife Selene Emberbane, a regal woman of sharp cheekbones and fiery auburn hair, exuded a different kind of power¡ªone of control and keen intelligence. The way she held her fork, slow and deliberate, spoke of a mind that missed nothing. The air in the dining hall was thick, though not with the rich aroma of spices or the sizzling meats. No, the weight pressing down on Angus was something else entirely. The servants stood along the walls, unmoving, their gazes lowered as though afraid to meet the eyes of the Emberbane Lord. The only sounds in the room were the quiet clinks of cutlery against fine china and the soft hum of a mana-screen, broadcasting the evening news. Then, Valerian finally spoke. "A little issue has occurred, my dear," his voice rumbled, deep and unwavering, as he cut through his steak with precise ease. "I need to visit the site. You know how vital our project is to the grand goal." Selene sighed, swirling the dark wine in her glass before taking a sip. "I really don¡¯t understand how this slipped past us. If we had acted earlier, this wouldn¡¯t have escalated to such an extent." Her tone was even, but there was a sharp edge beneath it. Angus focused on his plate, chewing slowly, carefully, willing himself to be as unnoticeable as the servants pressed against the walls. His fingers clenched subtly around his fork, but he didn''t dare move too suddenly. Then it happened. "Angus." He stiffened. His father''s voice was deceptively smooth, but the underlying weight sent a shiver down his spine. "Any progress on your side of things?" Angus felt the urge to sink into the very obsidian floor beneath him. He swallowed hard, placing his utensils down carefully before lifting his gaze. "Uhm¡­ not exactly," he admitted, his voice measured. "It would be suspicious if I suddenly changed overnight, but I do have a plan. One that aligns with our interests and ensures the best possible outcome." His words were chosen carefully, but before Valerian could respond, the news broadcast interrupted them. The large mana-screen flickered as the voice of a journalist filled the room. "Tonight, we witnessed both devastation and courage. While the battle against the Blazebane Howler brought sorrow, it also revealed unexpected heroes¡ªyoung warriors who risked their lives for a village on the brink of ruin." The footage shifted, showing the village¡¯s devastated remains, then cutting to an elderly woman with tear-filled eyes, clutching the hands of a group of young fighters. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. "We owe them everything," she said, her voice cracking with emotion. "They didn''t have to help us, but they did. They saved us. These young warriors¡­ they are the light in this darkness." Then, the camera panned, displaying familiar faces. Roy, standing confidently as the villagers cheered for him. Mellissa, glowing with newfound recognition. Jay and Logan, working tirelessly to aid the wounded. And then¡ªDenwen. Angus''s grip on the table tightened as his supposed failure paraded itself before him. Then came the voice that made his blood boil. "Hmm¡­" Selene mused, her lips curling ever so slightly. "Look at that. Even the Ignisclade girl has made a name for herself tonight. And yet, here we have someone else¡­ eating his life away." Angus felt his chest tighten. It was not the words themselves that cut him. It was the tone¡ªthe slow, deliberate, almost amused cruelty. He stood up abruptly, pushing his chair back with precise politeness. "Thank you for dinner," he said, his voice steady, though a fire raged within him. "I''ll be heading to my room." His parents continued eating and talking as though they hadn¡¯t heard anything from their son as he walked away, his hands clenched into fists. The moment he reached his chamber, the mask cracked¡ªhis face twisting in silent fury as the embers of humiliation burned within him. --- The next day. Back home, Denwen sat in his dimly lit room, adjusting his cloak. The fabric was dark, meant to obscure his figure during missions, and his face change device that he wore to become Ren, rested on the bed beside him. Stacks of cores gleamed on his desk¡ªhis hard-earned spoils from the battle. With enough of these, he could keep up with his growth. He double-checked his spatial ring, ensuring his gear was intact before slipping his mask over his face. Just as he was about to slip through the window¡ª "Hey bro, can you help me with¡ª" Denwen spun around so fast that his hood nearly flew off. Nicole stood in the doorway, holding a small crystal in her hand. Her mouth opened, then froze. Her gaze locked onto the masked figure in front of her. Her eyes widened in horror. "WHO ARE YOU, MISTER? HOW DID YOU GET INTO MY BROTHER¡¯S ROOM?!" she shrieked, taking a defensive stance. Panic surged through Denwen as he lurched forward, clamping a hand over her mouth. "Nicole, shut up¡ªit''s me!" he hissed. She blinked at him. Then, a mischievous twinkle sparkled in her eyes. She inhaled. And then¡ª "MOM, WE HAVE AN¡ªMPHHH!" Denwen shoved a cake into her mouth. Nicole¡¯s eyes bulged as the sweet, creamy pastry smothered her words. Her arms flailed as she struggled against him, but the frosting worked its magic. The battle was over. Nicole chewed angrily before swallowing. Then, with a dramatic "hmph," she turned her back to him, arms crossed. "You owe me, big bro," she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "BIG time." Denwen let out a deep sigh, shaking his head. "Fine, fine. Just¡­ don¡¯t say anything." Nicole smirked. "Depends. How much is my silence worth?" Denwen groaned. Today¡¯s mission just got a whole lot more expensive. Once Bitten The late morning sun cast its golden glow over the sprawling cityscape, bathing the towering structures of the Guild District in a hazy shimmer. A steady hum of hover vehicles filled the streets, punctuated by the occasional roar of an engine or the distant chatter of merchants hawking their wares. Denwen¡ªno, Ren¡ªstepped off his hover bike, watching as the sleek black vehicle shimmered before condensing into interlocking metal bands that coiled around his wrist like serpent bracelets. His face, hidden beneath a subtle shift in bone structure and a different shade of his usually dark eyes, bore no resemblance to the boy who had fought alongside Roy and Mellissa days ago. He exhaled, pulling out his phone. A message notification blinked at him. Garric Ironveil¡ªFirst Captain. His fingers hovered over the screen before he opened it. A formal request for a dungeon raid. He scoffed. So, they called me again. Didn¡¯t expect that. The logical part of his mind urged him to decline, to simply focus on refining the monster cores he¡¯d gathered from his previous battles. He didn¡¯t need to rely on a party full of scamming veterans who only cared about maximizing their profits. But then, a different thought settled in his mind¡ªone heavier than the first. I need to prove a point. Clenching his jaw, he swiped the message aside and stepped forward, pushing open the heavy guild doors. --- The interior of the Guild Hall buzzed with activity. Adventurers of various ranks huddled around mission boards, discussing bounties and dungeon clearings. A few well-equipped teams stood by the request counters, negotiating rewards. The smell of parchment, steel, and the faint scent of polish filled the air. Denwen¡¯s arrival didn¡¯t go unnoticed. His last mission had drawn some attention, and while most adventurers dismissed him as another nameless recruit, there were a few whispers. At the far end of the hall, a familiar figure stood waiting. ¡°Hey, kid! Long time no see,¡± Garric Ironveil greeted him, arms crossed over his broad chest. His full plate armor gleamed even in the dim light, the imposing sight of his tower shield slung across his back making him look more fortress than man. Denwen stopped in front of him, expression unmoved. ¡°Please, Garric. You and I both know we¡¯re not happy to see each other. Just tell me about the mission.¡± Garric sighed, shaking his head. ¡°Still as blunt as ever. Fine.¡± Behind him, the rest of the team loitered, not bothering to hide their cold reception. Kaelin Thornforge, the swordsman, was the only one to acknowledge him. He nodded, offering a small smirk. ¡°Ren, right? Heard about what happened in the village,¡± Kaelin said. ¡°Impressive work. Did that Rank 3 disaster drop any skill books?¡± Denwen¡¯s expression remained neutral. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t know. I wasn¡¯t there at the end of the fight.¡± Kaelin frowned slightly but said nothing more. Garric clapped his hands together, drawing attention back to himself. ¡°Alright, listen up. We¡¯ve got a Rank 2 Bladed Tiger dungeon. The plan is simple¡ªclear it completely. Robots will handle the mining while we wipe out the disasters.¡± Denwen tilted his head. ¡°I¡¯m not going to be a porter this time.¡± A moment of silence stretched between them before Dain Korrin, the brawler, scoffed. His muscular frame, built from years of hand-to-hand combat, tensed as he turned toward Denwen. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°We already have a brawler,¡± Dain said, arms crossed. ¡°That¡¯s more than enough for a Rank 2 dungeon.¡± Denwen¡¯s expression darkened, his patience wearing thin. ¡°Then I¡¯d rather leave than be your errand boy again.¡± Elara Valeheart, the healer, stepped forward with a calm voice. ¡°Ren, you have to understand that every role is important on a team. Even small contributions matter.¡± Denwen barely spared her a glance before scanning the group. He could see it¡ªthe silent agreement, the refusal to let him take a greater cut of the profits. They would rather keep him at the bottom than acknowledge his worth. No point arguing. He turned on his heels to leave. A sigh from behind. ¡°Wait.¡± Denwen stopped, glancing back as Garric rubbed his temple. ¡°Fine. You¡¯ll fight as a brawler this time.¡± Denwen narrowed his eyes. ¡°Then I want a proper contract.¡± A pause. The other members exchanged glances, some frowning in irritation. Garric hesitated for a moment before finally nodding. ¡°Alright, kid.¡± He reached into his satchel and pulled out a formal contract. Denwen took it, scanning every clause, ensuring no loopholes existed before channeling his mana into the document to sign it. The deal was sealed. Garric observed all this as he noted that the once na?ve kid was no longer na?ve. --- Elsewhere, in the heart of the noble district, inside the grand estate of Duke Vaelthorne, tension thickened the air. The Duke¡¯s office, a room lined with dark mahogany and illuminated by golden chandeliers, felt stifling despite its vastness. A massive desk stood in the center, littered with documents, maps, and classified reports. Behind it, a figure turned his chair away from the window, revealing a face that bore an uncanny resemblance to Roy¡ªonly hardened, matured, and edged with an authority that left no room for defiance. Duke Lucien Vaelthorne Clifford. Seated across from him, Garrick lounged carelessly, his legs propped up on the desk, arms folded behind his head. The contrast between them was stark¡ªwhere Lucien was the embodiment of discipline and control, Garrick was the exact opposite, exuding nothing but nonchalance. By his side, Corbin shook his head in exasperation. ¡°Garrick, when will you learn manners?¡± Lucien asked, his voice a measured calm that barely concealed irritation. Garrick smirked, adjusting his position slightly but making no move to sit properly. ¡°Come on, bro. Drop the act. You saw how well Roy performed the other day. Cut him some slack.¡± Lucien¡¯s eyes darkened. ¡°How I deal with my family is none of your business.¡± His tone dropped a degree colder. ¡°Right now, we have a situation that requires your attention. So I¡¯d appreciate it if you stopped playing the fool and took this seriously.¡± A tense silence settled over the room. Slowly, Garrick lowered his feet from the desk, his smirk fading. Lucien leaned forward. ¡°Our spy in Emberfall has sent us vital intel. He did not survive, but the information reached us regardless.¡± Garrick¡¯s expression turned grim. Corbin tensed beside him. Lucien¡¯s fingers drummed against the desk. ¡°You are to take your full unit and investigate the situation in Doitand. If necessary, eliminate any threats.¡± A heavy silence followed. Garrick sighed, rubbing the back of his head. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll take care of it.¡± Lucien nodded. ¡°Treat this as your highest priority.¡± And with that, the meeting was over. The Grassland Maw A pulsing blue gate stood before them, its translucent surface rippling like disturbed water under the dull glow of the evening sun. The color signified a Rank 2 dungeon, a challenge but not an insurmountable one. The gate exuded a faint hum, a steady, rhythmic vibration that resonated deep within the bones¡ªan ancient invitation and a warning all at once. Its towering presence warped the air around it, casting an eerie distortion as if the very fabric of reality struggled to contain what lurked inside. The dungeon registry station was set up just a few feet away, a reinforced booth made of dark alloy with runic engravings that pulsed faintly. A heavy-set guard with weathered skin and tired eyes stood behind a console, lazily chewing on something as he gestured for them to approach. "IDs." His voice was gruff, void of any enthusiasm. He barely spared them a glance as they each handed over their identification tokens. With a mechanical click, the console scanned their essence signatures, verifying their eligibility. The screen flashed green, and a secondary device beside it hummed to life. It was a compact essence measurement tool, shaped like a metallic sphere with glowing sigils running across its smooth surface. "Here." The guard shoved the device into Garrick¡¯s hands. "Once the dungeon is cleared, the readings will drop. If they don¡¯t, well¡­ something¡¯s wrong." He exhaled and wiped his forehead. "Not that it should be a problem. This model only measures up to Rank 4, so if anything beyond that shows up¡ª" he gave a dry chuckle, "¡ªyou lot are already dead." The team exchanged glances, but Garrick merely grunted and tucked the device into his belt. "Anything else we need to know?" Kaelin asked, fingers idly tracing the hilt of his sword. The guard leaned back in his chair, yawning. "Yeah, don¡¯t die." He waved them off. "And don¡¯t try to smuggle anything ridiculous back. You know the rules." With that, they turned towards the gate. Its ethereal surface rippled as if sensing their presence, the steady hum intensifying into a low, resonant thrum. Garrick took point, stepping forward without hesitation. As he touched the surface, a cold sensation rushed over his skin, and then¡ª ¡ªthe world twisted. ---- Inside the Dungeon: The Grassland Maw A wave of warmth washed over them as they stepped into the dungeon, the stark contrast to the cool evening outside disorienting for a split second. The sky was a deep, cloudless blue, a painted illusion with no sun but an eerie ambient glow that provided light. A gentle breeze swept through the endless expanse of swaying golden-green grass, rustling with an almost whispering quality, as though unseen mouths murmured secrets carried by the wind. The air was rich and earthy, carrying the scent of soil, grass, and something¡­ wilder. A faint metallic tang lingered underneath, the unmistakable scent of blood, too faint to see but enough to make the skin crawl. "This is different from what I expected," Roran muttered, adjusting his bow as his sharp green eyes scanned the open terrain. "More open than I like. No natural choke points." Garrick, standing with his arms crossed, nodded. "Grassland-type dungeons are tricky. The terrain favors the disasters. They¡¯ll blend in, attack from unexpected angles. No walls to funnel them into a fight." Kaelin ran his fingers through the tall grass, watching as the sharp blades parted around his hand. "Feels unnatural," he muttered. Renji, adjusting his twin daggers, scoffed. "It¡¯s a dungeon. It¡¯s not supposed to feel natural." Further ahead, a massive tree stood like a lone sentinel in the middle of the plains. Its ashen bark twisted in gnarled knots, and its canopy of crimson leaves cast dark shadows over the ground. It was the only major landmark in sight. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. "I¡¯ll take a look from up there." Roran was already moving, his footsteps nearly silent as he approached the tree. He reached into his quiver, pulled out a thin black rope arrow, and notched it. With a sharp twang, he fired. The arrow shot upward, embedding itself into the bark with a firm thunk. He tested the tension, then scaled the tree with practiced ease, vanishing into the dense crimson foliage. Garrick watched him go before turning back to the group. "We need a clearing. Kaelin, do your thing." Kaelin stepped forward, his long sword gleaming as he unsheathed it in a slow, deliberate motion. A faint blue essence pulsed along the blade¡¯s edge as he channeled his power, the air around him humming in response. With a smooth, fluid motion, he swung. The arc of his blade traced a perfect crescent through the air. A sudden whirl of wind followed, and the tall grass in a ten-meter radius around them was severed cleanly, collapsing in a perfect circle. The fresh scent of cut vegetation mixed with the dungeon¡¯s earthy aroma. A brief silence followed. Then¡ªa rustle. It came from the edge of the clearing, barely perceptible, but Denwen felt it before he saw it. Something was there. A blur of muscle and steel erupted from the grass, moving with terrifying speed. A Bladed Tiger. It was a monstrous feline, its sinewy body covered in dark-striped fur, but what made it truly horrifying were the jagged, keratinous blades that jutted out from its front shoulders, extending in razor-sharp arcs. Its amber eyes burned with predatory hunger as it lunged¡ª ¡ªstraight for Denwen. A heartbeat passed. Renji, the speedster, was closest. He could have intercepted. But he didn¡¯t move. Denwen¡¯s instincts screamed. His body, honed by endless drills, reacted. Brawler arts¡ªfluid motion, precise execution. His feet shifted, weight centered. His hands moved, not to block but to redirect. As the beast pounced, he sidestepped, his arm snaking forward in an almost gentle touch against the tiger¡¯s leading paw¡ªthen he twisted, using the beast¡¯s own momentum against it. A pivot. A shift. A devastating counter. His knee shot up, slamming into the tiger¡¯s exposed throat with brutal precision. A sickening crack followed as the beast¡¯s trajectory was forcibly altered, its own weight slamming it face-first into the ground with bone-crushing force. A moment later, it lay still. A stunned silence filled the clearing. Denwen exhaled, shaking the tension from his hands. The thrill of battle still pulsed in his veins, his muscles wound tight. "Wait¡­ Ren" Korrin¡¯s voice broke the quiet, his brown eyes wide with shock. "Was that¡­ Brawler Arts?" Denwen didn¡¯t answer. But Korrin wasn¡¯t just surprised. He was stunned. Because he was a brawler too. And what Denwen had just done¡­ wasn¡¯t basic. It was an advanced combination of multiple martial forms¡ªsomething that took years to refine. Renji, meanwhile, was silent. His fingers twitched as he adjusted the straps on his daggers. He hadn¡¯t intervened. And yet, he didn¡¯t look pleased. Garrick, ever the pragmatist, merely shook his head and glanced at the essence measurement tool on his belt. The number was still high, meaning there were more disasters ahead. "This place is running dry," he muttered. "Not many mana crystals left. We¡¯re collapsing this dungeon for a reason. Let¡¯s finish up." No one argued. The hunt had only just begun. Shadows of the Ember "Alright, listen up," Garric¡¯s voice cut through the restless rustling of the tall grass, his authoritative tone grounding them. The squad turned to him, their expressions sharp with focus. The scent of blood still clung to the air, a reminder of the fallen disasters already eliminated. Elara stepped forward, her deep violet robes billowing slightly in the evening breeze. The aura around her pulsed, a soft silver glow gathering at her fingertips. "Elara," Garric motioned. "Buff us properly. No telling what surprises this place has." She gave a slight nod and raised her staff, a sleek silver construct with crystalline inlays that pulsed as she channeled her mana. "Lend thy strength, oh guiding stars, fortify these souls with the grace of endurance." A soft chime echoed through the grasslands as waves of ethereal energy spread outward, sinking into each squad member. The air around them felt lighter, their muscles coiling with renewed vigor, as if a heavy burden had been lifted from their limbs. Denwen closed his eyes as he felt himself become lighter; he clenched his fist knowing that his blows would be a lot more fatal to the disasters. Garric clenched his fist, feeling the warmth of the essence reinforcement, before nodding. "Alright, we know there''s just one Rank 2 in here, but we take no risks. If anyone spots it, call for backup. No heroics. We move as a unit, we kill as a unit." A series of affirmations followed. Then¡ª "Move out." Like well-oiled gears in a war machine, the squad spread across the lush battlefield, the hunt beginning in full force. --- Perched atop the crimson-leafed tree, Roran¡¯s green cloak fluttered as he nocked an arrow, his sharp eyes scanning the grass below. His breathing was slow, measured, a predator in his own right. He had a sight-based skill that helped him located even the minute of movements and changes all he had to do was channel his essence and activate it. He looked carefully, his eyes glowing blue carefully scanning below. Then¡ªmovement. A bladed tiger that was trying to lay an ambush, he released his arrow, the enchanted bow adding a bit of wind magic to boost the arrow making it reach terrifying speeds as it pierced through the shoulder blades of the disaster, but due to the defense of the blades it couldn¡¯t finish it off in one go. Not perfect enough. Roran exhaled¡ªhis bowstring tensed¡ªand he released. Fwhip! The arrow sang through the air, piercing through the skull of the beast before it could even register its death. A second one that had spotted the attacker tried to rush away¡ª Fwhip! Another silent kill, another clean shot. The body collapsed, lifeless. Roran smirked. The hunt was too easy. ---- Down below, Renji moved like a whisper, his twin daggers gleaming with a deadly green sheen¡ªa potent neurotoxin coating their edges. A pair of bladed tigers lunged at him from opposite sides, their slavering jaws snapping hungrily. Renji twisted¡ªhis body dipping low, one dagger flashing upward. The first bladed tiger barely had time to react before its throat was slit, its forward momentum carrying its now-limp body into the dirt. The second bladed tiger was already upon him. Renji didn¡¯t stop moving. He sidestepped, his second dagger sinking into the beast¡¯s spinal column. A swift jerk, and the body crumpled. "Too slow," he muttered, wiping the poisoned blood off his blades. ---- With thundering steps, Garric charged forward, his massive shield an unstoppable wall of force. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. A Bladed tiger roared at him like a beast whose home had been invaded launching towards him with all its might Garric grinned. BOOM! His shield swung up, the impact shattering bones as the bladed tiger was knocked backward, its body tumbling across the field. Before it could recover, Garric stepped forward, his shield crashing down like a war hammer. Crack! The bladed tiger went still. ---- Kaelin barely moved. While others swung and struck, he merely held his sheathed sword, eyes half-lidded as if disinterested. Four bladed tigers circled around him watching him like predators watching their prey, but they couldn¡¯t tell the hidden strength behind the lazy posture. They lunged¡ª Kaelin sighed. A single movement. His scabbard flicked outward, connecting with the first beast¡¯s skull in a brutal arc. A thud followed as the body collapsed. Before the second beast could react, Kaelin rotated¡ªone smooth step¡ªand delivered a crushing blow to its ribcage, sending it skidding away, broken. "Such a hassle," he murmured. ---- Korrin had decided to work with Ren in order to watch this Kid¡¯s brawler arts well to see if he was mistaken. The two brawlers fought side by side, their iron gauntlets smashing through disasters like a living hurricane. A Bladed tiger leapt at Denwen¡ª He caught it by the throat midair grabbing its esophagus tightly causing the bladed tiger to wince in pain. A twist of his hips¡ªa brutal overhead slam¡ªand the beast collided with the earth, spine shattering. Beside him, Korrin was an avalanche of power, his heavy fists crushing bone with every strike. A Bladed Tiger reared up against him¡ª Korrin planted his feet¡ªdelivered an earth-shaking uppercut¡ªand the beast¡¯s jaw snapped backward unnaturally before it crumpled. The two locked eyes, Korrin more impressed by what he saw giving a brief smile to him, but Denwen didn¡¯t mind ¡ª He nodded, moving to the next fight. ---- Everything was going smoothly. Then¡ª ROOOOOOAAAAARRRRR!!! The very air quaked as a thunderous roar resounded through the dungeon. A massive shadow loomed over the grassland, its hulking form parting the sea of golden-green as it approached. Garric tightened his grip. "Looks like the big boss is here." ---- Elsewhere, Beyond the dungeon, in a pristine facility lined with blinking monitors, a man walked with purpose, his boots clicking against the sterile floors. Scientists and analysts bowed their heads in subtle acknowledgment as he passed. Some merely offered a glance, others a brief nod of respect. Reaching his private office, he locked the door, moving toward a wall lined with ancient tomes. With a deliberate motion, he pulled a thick book, revealing a hidden passageway. A dimly lit inner chamber stood beyond, empty except for a single circular platform at its center. He stepped onto it¡ª HUMMMMMMM. A holographic veil enveloped him. At that exact moment, in a distant, shadowed hall, a hooded figure materialized, standing among many others already gathered. The figure found its seat after and looked towards the large podium where there was a large table and Eight Pristine seats with a singular one more pristine in the middle. Eight seats loomed before them, an Emblem of A blackened, skeletal hand clutching a dying ember, with cracks glowing like molten lava above them. An emblem that would strike fear into the heart of anyone who isn¡¯t a part of the organization. It was the symbol of fear on Velos. The symbol of Terror The symbol of Emberfall. The Vanishing Prey A deep, guttural growl rumbled through the grassland expanse, thick with the scent of tall yellow aged grass and blood-soaked earth. The very ground trembled as the Bladed Tiger Boss unleashed a roar so thunderous that it sent jagged vibrations rippling through the dungeon, shaking loose debris from the ground. The sheer force of its bellow reverberated in their bones, a primal declaration of dominance that made even the seasoned fighters instinctively brace themselves. Looming before them, the Rank 2 beast was a sight that could freeze lesser warriors in their tracks. Its massive feline frame, coated in sleek, dark-striped fur, rippled with raw power. Yet, what truly made it monstrous were the deadly keratinous blades sprouting from its shoulders, gleaming like obsidian scythes in the dim dungeon light. They weren¡¯t just for show¡ªeach movement of the beast sent them slicing through the air with a deadly hiss. But what made it even more fearsome was the hardened plating covering its front limbs, a natural armor that extended down to its massive paws. Thick, segmented layers of keratin, as sharp as glass, encased its forearms like the gauntlets of an executioner, designed to slash, crush, and deflect in equal measure. It made it look more like the defense of an Armadillo. As the monster charged, its thunderous steps caused the ground to tremble beneath them. Garrick, standing at the forefront, didn¡¯t hesitate. His sharp, commanding voice rang out over the battlefield. ¡°Elara! Barrier¡ªkeep the Rank 1s out! Roran, anyone that gets too close¡ªshoot them down! Renji, back him up! No surprises! Kaelin¡­¡± His gaze hardened as he looked toward the swordsman, who silently unsheathed his blade, the cold steel whispering against its sheath. ¡°Take this fight seriously.¡± Kaelin merely smirked, eyes glinting with anticipation. The Bladed Tiger Boss let loose another snarl and lunged¡ªlightning-fast for something its size. The air whistled as its bladed shoulders slashed downward in a brutal arc. Garrick was faster. With a ground-shaking step, he surged forward, his colossal shield slamming into the beast with earth-rending force. The collision sent a shockwave through the battlefield, forcing the Bladed Tiger to skid back several meters, claws tearing trenches into the ground. But it wasn¡¯t deterred¡ªits molten-yellow eyes gleamed with unbridled fury as it rebounded, its armored forearms already poised to counter. Korrin and Denwen saw their chance. Moving in tandem, the two brawlers darted in from opposite sides. Korrin, the stronger of the two, launched a devastating hook aimed at the beast¡¯s ribs. His fists, wrapped in dense layers of reinforced essence, struck like hammers against the monster¡¯s hide, sending ripples across its thick muscles. Yet, the Bladed Tiger twisted at the last second, its plated forearm deflecting the blow with a sickening clang. Denwen, taking advantage of the opening, shot low with precise footwork, driving an iron-clad punch toward the beast¡¯s underbelly. He felt the impact rattle through his arm as his essence-charged gauntlet met the beast¡¯s natural armor. But instead of tearing through, the plating absorbed most of the damage, sending a numbing shock up his bones. Before they could disengage, the Bladed Tiger retaliated. Its shoulder blades lashed out with blinding speed. Korrin barely managed to weave back in time, but not before a shallow gash was carved into his arm. Denwen wasn¡¯t as lucky¡ªa razor-thin cut burned across his side, warm blood trickling beneath his torn tunic. Still, he kept his focus. As he stepped back, Denwen¡¯s mind raced, analyzing every detail: ¡°This thing isn¡¯t as strong as the Iron Hide Chief¡­ something¡¯s off¡± A realization clicked into place. It¡¯s Rank 2, but it feels weaker¡­ closer to Early or Mid-Rank 2 at best. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. His pulse quickened: ¡°Maybe¡­ I can take a chance¡± Korrin, unaware of Denwen¡¯s thoughts, continued pressing the beast, throwing wild, brutal strikes. The Bladed Tiger locked onto him, recognizing him as the greater threat. That was a mistake. Denwen struck. Gathering his essence into his gauntlet, he tightened his stance, every muscle coiling with precision. Then, with a controlled burst of power, he propelled himself upward, launching a devastating uppercut straight into the beast¡¯s jaw. A deep, resonating CRACK filled the chamber as the blow connected. Though it didn¡¯t break through, it snapped the beast¡¯s head back just enough¡ªjust enough for Kaelin to move. The swordsman took a single breath. His aura flared¡ªPeak Rank 2 essence surging through his veins like a raging current. Then he was gone. To the untrained eye, Kaelin vanished. A sudden shockwave cracked the air, the only sign of his blinding speed. Even Renji, seasoned in battle, found himself wide-eyed in disbelief wondering if he was still the speedster of the group. Garric smiled as he thought: ¡°Seems like someone had a successful breakthrough¡± Kaelin reappeared below the beast, under the exposed part of its neck, sword raised, essence crackling along its edge like a living force. In one perfect motion¡ªhe sliced. A gleam of silver. A whisper of wind. A clean, precise cut. The Bladed Tiger¡¯s head slid from its shoulders. A heavy thud echoed as it struck the ground, rolling to a lifeless stop. Its massive body swayed¡ªthen collapsed in a heap of striped fur and muscle. Silence. The battlefield stood still, the air thick with the scent of blood and sweat. Garrick let out a slow breath, lowering his shield. ¡°Elara, cancel the spell.¡± The mage nodded, the shimmering barrier dissolving into specks of light. But as she raised her hands to cast recovery spells, Garrick shook his head. ¡°Don¡¯t bother. We didn¡¯t spend much on this fight.¡± He turned to Denwen, a rare look of approval in his eyes. ¡°Ren¡­ you¡¯ve grown stronger.¡± Denwen, caught off guard, acknowledged with a simple nod. Kaelin, sheathing his blade, walked up to Denwen and clapped him on the back. ¡°You know, kid¡­ that was quick thinking. Not bad.¡± Denwen didn¡¯t respond immediately. His brows furrowed, an unease creeping into his mind. ¡®Something didn¡¯t feel right¡¯ he thought with his eyes scanned the now silent grassland. ¡°Wait¡­¡± He looked around, scanning the battlefield. His eyes darkened. ¡°I know we cleared the dungeon, but doesn¡¯t it feel like something is¡­ off?¡± Garrick¡¯s face hardened. ¡°So, you noticed it too.¡± Before he could say more, Renji suddenly pointed. ¡°Boss¡­ the dungeon boss is decomposing.¡± All heads turned as the Bladed Tiger¡¯s corpse began to wither. Its striped fur dulled to ash, its flesh collapsing in on itself as if being consumed by an unseen force. The other fallen disasters¡ªRank 1s littered across the battlefield¡ªbegan to suffer the same fate. Their bodies disintegrated. ¡°What the hell?¡± Korrin breathed. ¡°Quick! Get the cores¡ªwe can¡¯t lose them!¡± Garrick ordered. The team scrambled, rushing toward the nearest corpses, hands reaching for the essence-rich cores embedded in their chests. But the moment they touched the remains¡ª Dust. The bodies collapsed into nothingness. One by one, the fallen disasters crumbled, their forms unraveling into fine gray powder that scattered like mist in the dim dungeon light. Even the surviving Rank 1s, still breathing moments ago, spasmed¡ªthen vanished into the wind. A heavy silence settled over the group. This¡­ had never happened before. The Gate of Omen The air inside the dungeon was unnaturally still. Not the kind of silence that came with peace, but the kind that pressed down on the senses, wrapping around the lungs like an unseen weight. It was the silence before a storm, the pause between a predator¡¯s breath and its fatal strike. A soft breeze swept across the endless grasslands, rustling the tall blades like murmurs from unseen phantoms. Yet, no one spoke. No one moved. They simply stood there, staring at the scattered remains of the disasters that had¡ªwithout warning¡ªcrumbled into dust. Renji was the first to break the trance. Letting out an exaggerated groan, he threw himself onto the ground, his twin daggers clattering beside him. ¡°Aww, man¡­ So we really got nothing out of this raid?¡± His tone was light, but the frustration in his voice was undeniable. Kaelin exhaled sharply, sheathing his blade with a practiced motion. ¡°There¡¯s nothing we can do about it. This is beyond us. Maybe if we report it, someone will know what happened.¡± ¡°That¡¯s assuming they even believe us,¡± Garric muttered, crossing his arms. His voice carried the weight of experience, hardened by years of dealing with the guild¡¯s bureaucracy. Renji sat up, brows furrowing. ¡°But it isn¡¯t an excuse.¡± Garric lifted a hand, a subtle gesture to calm him before continuing. ¡°I know. And there was nothing we could have done to stop it. But if we walk back empty-handed, we¡¯ll have to answer to the guild, and you know how they are about compensation.¡± His sharp gaze swept over the group. ¡°We need a plausible explanation.¡± A tense pause. Then, he sighed, rubbing his temple. ¡°So, here¡¯s what we¡¯ll say¡ªwe encountered a rampaging beast that wiped out the others before we took it down. That¡¯s our alibi.¡± Elara, who had been staring at the empty space where the bladed tiger¡¯s core should have been, let out a heavy sigh. Her fingers twitched at her side, as if grasping at something unseen. ¡°I was really hoping to earn enough to buy my niece a birthday gift¡­¡± Before anyone could respond, a low hum vibrated through the air. It wasn¡¯t a sound that belonged here. It was something foreign¡ªmechanical, yet ancient. An intrusion upon reality itself, as if the very fabric of existence was being stretched thin. The ground beneath them trembled. And then, as though forcing its way into existence, it appeared. A colossal gate. It flickered like a mirage, shifting between presence and absence, stone phasing in and out as if the dungeon itself was undecided on whether it should be real. Then, all at once, it stabilized. With a deafening boom, it crashed into the earth. The impact shattered the grassy terrain, jagged rock replacing the soft soil as if the land itself had been rewritten. Shockwaves burst outward, sending tremors through the air. Essence rippled in violent waves, wild and untamed, like the aftermath of a great calamity. The wind howled. Dust and debris spiraled into the sky, a raging vortex that swallowed everything in its path. Garric reacted instantly. ¡°Get behind me!¡± His voice roared over the chaos. Without hesitation, the team huddled behind his massive form as he slammed his shield into the ground, bracing himself. The wind and energy battered against them, pushing Garric back inch by inch, his boots carving trenches into the shifting earth. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. Then¡ª Just as suddenly as it had begun, the chaos stopped. The wind died. The dust settled. And before them stood the gate. Towering. Ancient. Its double doors stretched impossibly high, adorned with intricate symbols that pulsed faintly with an eerie, golden glow. The engravings twisted and turned, shifting like living veins, forming an archaic language that Denwen almost recognized. Almost. The moment his mind attempted to decipher them, the meaning slipped away, dissolving like mist between his fingers. A shiver crawled up his spine. They shouldn¡¯t be here. They shouldn¡¯t go near it. Denwen¡¯s fingers curled into fists. Every instinct screamed at him, urging him to turn back. But before he could speak¡ª Roran stepped forward, reaching out toward the carvings. ¡°Don¡¯t touch it!¡± Denwen¡¯s voice came out sharper than he intended, cutting through the stillness like a blade. Roran halted mid-motion, turning with a frown. ¡°What¡¯s with the outburst, Ren?¡± Denwen didn¡¯t answer immediately. He swallowed, forcing himself to steady his voice. ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know. I just have a really bad feeling about this.¡± Korrin let out a dry chuckle, nudging Denwen¡¯s shoulder. ¡°What, you scared of a door, kid?¡± Denwen shot him a glare but didn¡¯t rise to the taunt. ¡°I¡¯m not scared. But this isn¡¯t normal. We need to report this to the authorities. Let them handle it.¡± Renji immediately scoffed. ¡°Report it? So they can swoop in and claim everything for themselves?¡± He gestured toward the gate. ¡°Look, Cap, we¡¯ve heard of dungeons within dungeons before. The rewards are insane. This might be our only chance to recoup our losses.¡± Denwen¡¯s jaw tightened. ¡°And what if it¡¯s a trap?¡± Kaelin raised a hand, his tone measured. ¡°The kid has a point. There are just as many stories of teams getting wiped out because they rushed into unknown dungeons.¡± Elara hesitated, shifting from foot to foot. ¡°¡­I do need more things to sell for the gift tho.¡± Roran simply shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ll go with the majority.¡± Korrin cracked his knuckles. ¡°I say we check it out. We¡¯re hunters, not errand boys.¡± Garric, watching the debate unfold, exhaled deeply. Without a word, he pulled out the essence measurement tool. The small crystal pulsed for a few moments, then stabilized, displaying a steady reading. He studied it. Then finally spoke. ¡°Ren, I get where you¡¯re coming from. But the meter says it¡¯s safe. And we all need resources. Let¡¯s put it to a vote.¡± One by one, hands rose. Renji. Korrin. Elara. Then Roran. Denwen held onto a sliver of hope, looking to Kaelin. The swordsman exhaled and raised his hand. ¡°Sorry, kid. If the meter says it¡¯s safe, there¡¯s no reason to hold back.¡± Denwen clenched his teeth. ¡°Alright,¡± Garric said. ¡°Looks like we¡¯re heading in.¡± Renji pumped his fist. ¡°Hell yeah.¡± Garric turned to Denwen. ¡°Ren, I won¡¯t force you. But if you want to get stronger like the rest of us, this might be a golden opportunity. Last chance.¡± He extended a hand. Denwen stared at them, feeling like he was looking at lunatics. Was he being paranoid? His mind replayed a promise he made to himself. ¡°I¡¯ll take any risk necessary to achieve my goal.¡± He inhaled. Then exhaled. ¡°¡­Fine.¡± With steady steps, he walked toward the towering gate. The others watched as he placed his palms against its stone surface. And then¡ª With a low groan, the doors swung open. The Queen’s Gambit A deep groan echoed through the air as the colossal doors began to part, the ancient hinges grinding together like bone scraping against stone. Dust billowed in thick plumes, disturbed by the unnatural gust that surged from within¡ªa wind that carried the scent of time itself, stale and suffocating, like the breath of something long forgotten. The darkness beyond the threshold was unlike any mere absence of light. It was thick, oppressive¡ªalmost sentient. A silence weighed down upon the group, heavy and unnatural, as though the very air was holding its breath. Then, without warning, flames burst to life. DUM DUM DUM One by one, sconces ignited in a cascading sequence, each reluctant spark sputtering into existence as if roused from centuries of slumber. The flickering glow chased away the suffocating blackness, revealing the sheer vastness of the chamber before them. It was immense¡ªan unfathomable cube stretching endlessly in all directions. The walls were lined with statues. No, not merely statues. A grotesque menagerie of frozen figures, locked in silent vigil. Towering knights on warhorses stood in formation, wickedly curved scythes clutched in gauntleted hands, their warhorses frozen mid-snarl. Monstrous towers loomed, fortified with lifelike archers poised to release invisible arrows. Priests in heavy robes stood motionless, their faces eroded into empty sockets. And then¡ªmost disturbing of all¡ªhundreds of goblins. Squat figures hunched in anticipation, their grotesque grins stretching impossibly wide, frozen in a silent, gleeful malice. Each of the statue scattered around the place, by the wall or close but the center felt empty. No one spoke. The air remained unnervingly still. Denwen¡¯s fingers twitched at his sides. Every instinct in his body screamed that something was wrong. Deeply, fundamentally wrong. It wasn¡¯t just the unsettling display of statues¡ªit was the feeling. As though stepping through those doors had shifted something, an imperceptible shift in the world itself. His gut twisted violently: ¡®We shouldn¡¯t be here¡¯. A low whistle broke the silence. ¡°Damn,¡± Renji exhaled, grinning as he clapped Denwen¡¯s back. ¡°And here I thought we¡¯d walked into a death trap.¡± He turned to the others, spreading his arms theatrically. ¡°Look at this place! Giant statues? Mysterious, creepy aesthetic? This is some real ancient civilization shit!¡± Denwen barely registered Renji¡¯s voice. His heart pounded, his eyes darting across the statues, searching¡ªno, waiting¡ªfor something to move. He was certain of it. Something would move. Elara took a cautious step forward, her sharp, observant eyes locked onto one of the massive knights. She ran her fingers along its surface, her brow furrowing. ¡°This metal¡­¡± she muttered. ¡°It¡¯s rare. Really rare. I don¡¯t recognize it, but if we haul some of this back¡ª¡± she whistled low ¡°¡ªwe¡¯re set for life.¡± ¡°A treasure room, then?¡± Garrick¡¯s deep voice carried across the chamber. Unlike the others, he hadn¡¯t moved an inch since stepping inside. His broad arms were folded, his gaze heavy with scrutiny. ¡°Strange way to store wealth.¡± ¡°Strange is an understatement.¡± Roran, usually unfazed, shifted uneasily on his feet. ¡°I don¡¯t like this. The way they¡¯re positioned¡­ it¡¯s deliberate. Too deliberate.¡± Kaelin, silent until now, ran a hand over his shaved head, his piercing eyes flicking toward the vast rows of statues. ¡°Feels like a battlefield,¡± he murmured. A battlefield. The words sent a fresh chill down Denwen¡¯s spine. Korrin, however, seemed the least concerned. Hands tucked casually into his pockets, he meandered through the statues, his eyes scanning the figures with mild curiosity. ¡°You guys are overthinking this,¡± he drawled. ¡°They¡¯re just statues.¡± The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Denwen swallowed. His throat was dry: ¡®Then why does it feel like they¡¯re watching us?¡¯ At the far end of the chamber, Korrin stopped. His gaze settled on one particular statue¡ªan elegant sculpture, distinct from the rest. Unlike the knights, human like statues with robes resembling priests, and goblins, this figure bore a delicate, feminine face, her serene expression frozen in metal. A crown adorned her head, intricate filigree twisting like veins through stone. ¡°Hey,¡± Korrin mused, tilting his head. ¡°Isn¡¯t it weird?¡± Denwen stiffened. ¡°Every statue here only has two colors. Why just two?¡± Korrin¡¯s voice was distant, almost entranced. His hand rose, fingers stretching toward the queen¡¯s face. Denwen¡¯s breath hitched. A cold spike of dread shot through him. A sudden, static-like hum buzzed through his skull. The door. The inscriptions. The illegible scribbles that had meant nothing before¡ªnow they twisted, shifting in his mind, some finally forming fractured words he could understand: ¡°Beware #@$#E@ touch @#$@# Queen @#@#$@#@ No Survivor @#@3 center @#@#@3 Win¡± His pulse thundered. The words flickered in his mind like a pulsing warning. BEWARE. TOUCH. QUEEN. NO SURVIVOR. CENTER. WIN. His blood ran cold. His gaze snapped forward¡ªKorrin¡¯s fingers were inches from the statue¡¯s towering arm. NO. ¡°KORRIN, DON¡¯T TOUCH HER!¡± His voice tore through the chamber, raw and frantic. But it was too late. The moment Korrin¡¯s fingertips made contact¡ª The queen¡¯s hollow pupils ignited. A molten golden light burned within them. Slowly, unnaturally, the statue¡¯s head turned, its movement unnatural¡ªtoo fluid, too alive. The queen¡¯s gaze shifted, locking onto Korrin. A sickening crack split the air. Korrin¡¯s body locked in place, his face frozen in shock. Then¡ªhe shrank. Withered. His muscles caved inward, his skin tightening like dry parchment. His flesh crumbled, unraveling like sand in the wind. His mouth opened¡ªa silent scream, never given the chance to escape. And then¡ª He was gone. Not a corpse. Not even bones. Just dust, dissolving into the stagnant air. A suffocating silence fell over the room. No one moved. No one breathed. Renji stumbled backward, his face draining of color. ¡°The fuck¡ª¡± Elara¡¯s hands trembled, her fingers curled into fists. She had seen death before¡ªbut not like this. Roran¡¯s jaw clenched, his body tense as his mind raced. His instincts screamed at him to run, to escape now, but his legs were leaden. Kaelin let out a slow exhale, his eyes never leaving the queen. ¡°That wasn¡¯t death.¡± His voice was low, measured. ¡°That was erasure.¡± Denwen¡¯s stomach twisted violently. Korrin wasn¡¯t just dead. He had been erased. Just like the corpses of the disasters outside the dungeon. A slow, bone-chilling creak reverberated through the chamber. BOOM The door swung close and -- The Queen moved. A grotesque, ear-to-ear smile carved itself onto her face, stretching impossibly wide. Her teeth¡ªlong, jagged, too many¡ªgleamed like polished ivory. The golden light in her eyes flared brighter, locking onto Denwen. The warmth in the chamber fled, replaced by a creeping, paralyzing cold. Somewhere, deep within the maze of statues¡ª Something clicked. A ripple surged outward. And then¡ª The first knight¡¯s pupils flared to life. Then the rooks. Then the bishops. Then the goblins. One by one¡ª The statues awoke. And then¡ª They moved. The Game of Death The dungeon trembled, a deep rumbling that sent dust spiraling into the air. From the center, a massive checkered platform of black and white tiles rose from the stone floor, the very earth giving way to its emergence as though surrendering to an ancient force. The chessboard was no mere decoration¡ªit exuded an aura of power so thick it made breathing feel like inhaling liquid stone. Denwen¡¯s eyes darted to the statues as they moved with eerie synchronization, the mechanical groan of stone limbs grinding against one another filling the air. They gathered at the edges of the board, their crimson eyes gleaming like embers in the darkness. The queen was the first to step forward, her obsidian gown flowing like liquid shadow as she advanced, her footfalls silent despite her towering form. A gust of cold air howled through the chamber as two ornate thrones rose from either side of the board, their surfaces cracked yet regal, their presence undeniable. The king pieces took their seats, their hollow gazes locking onto the hunters with a silent decree of inevitability. Then, the queen moved again, stepping onto the scorched remains of Korrin. The dust of his existence was kicked up, swirling briefly before vanishing into nothingness, as if he had never been. A subtle smile curved her stony lips as she seated herself at the white queen¡¯s end, exuding the quiet confidence of a ruler who had already won. Garric felt his fingers tremble as he pulled out the measuring crystals. The numbers flickered, escalating at an unnatural rate, the crystal vibrating violently in his grip. Then¡ªCRACK¡ªit shattered into a thousand glittering shards, the remnants falling uselessly between his fingers. His breath hitched, his mind reeling. ¡°Shit¡­¡± His voice came out hoarse, almost disbelieving. ¡°It¡¯s way above Rank 4¡ªpossibly Rank 5 or worse¡­¡± He swallowed hard, his fingers numb as he let the pieces of the crystal fall to the floor. His shield clattered beside him, the sound ringing hollow in the vast chamber. ¡°What have I done?¡± he murmured, his face draining of color. A gust of wind swept past as Renji suddenly turned on his heel, desperation twisting his features. ¡°Fuck this,¡± he spat. ¡°I have no time for this shit.¡± His boots scraped against the stone as he bolted towards the dungeon entrance. Then¡ªSHHNK. A single arrow sliced through the air, impossibly fast, its whistling sharper than a sword''s edge. It pierced through Renji¡¯s skull in an instant, exiting the back of his head before he could even scream. His body collapsed mid-step, dissolving into dust before it even hit the ground. Silence. A chill ran down Denwen¡¯s spine as his mind raced, recalling part of the encrypted text from earlier. CENTER. WIN. His fists clenched. The meaning was clear now. ¡°No one move,¡± he commanded, his voice firm, cutting through the lingering silence. His heartbeat pounded in his ears as he turned to the others. ¡°Look around you. This is a game¡ªchess. This entire dungeon has been leading to this moment. The only way to survive is to play their game and win.¡± Elara¡¯s knees buckled as she collapsed onto the floor, tears spilling from her wide, terror-stricken eyes. ¡°But¡­ but that would mean playing with our lives¡­¡± Her breath came in ragged gasps. ¡°I didn¡¯t sign up for this! This isn¡¯t¡­ this isn¡¯t fair!¡± she sobbed, clutching her arms as if she could hold herself together. Kaelin¡¯s expression darkened, a hint of hesitation flickering across his face. ¡°Kid, how do we even know this will work?¡± His voice wavered despite his composed exterior. ¡°If we hold out, the gate might start destabilizing. We could¡ª¡± Before he could finish, the queen lifted her hand. At that moment, the four towering rooks at the edges of the board creaked as their archer statues shifted, arrows locking onto the adventurers, drawn back with deadly precision. Denwen''s eyes widened. No time left. ¡°Shit¡ªget on the board! NOW!¡± Without another thought, he sprinted forward and stepped onto the Queen¡¯s square. The moment his foot landed, the archers froze, their bows lowering. His chest heaved as he turned to the others. ¡°See? I wasn¡¯t attacked. This is our only chance¡ªour only fucking way to survive. So, stop whining like little bitches and get the hell on!¡± Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. The sheer desperation and fury in his voice sent a shockwave through the group. Roran clenched his jaw and climbed onto the Rook¡¯s slot, taking the archer¡¯s position. Elara, still trembling, forced herself to move, stepping onto the Bishop¡¯s square, her breath uneven. Garric hesitated only a moment before moving to the Knight¡¯s slot, his lips pressed into a tight line. Kaelin silently stepping into the second knight slot. As soon as the last person took their place, the board glowed. Each square beneath their feet pulsed with light, acknowledging their participation. The archers above withdrew their weapons, the queen lowering her hand with a smirk that sent a shiver down Denwen¡¯s spine. A strange power surged through him, tendrils of invisible energy snaking into his body, filling him with a cold, commanding presence. His vision sharpened, his awareness stretching across the entire board. Authority. A realization settled over him. ¡®I am the Queen. The most powerful piece on the board.¡¯ He had picked this position first so as not to be left to the mercy of others but also having at the back of his mind that the Queen is the most attacked piece on the board. He lifted his gaze to meet the opposing queen, who sat across the board with the same unsettling smile. She knew. She had always known. Denwen exhaled sharply, turning to the others, his expression hard. ¡°From now on, you¡¯re my pieces. Do as I say, and we might just survive this.¡± The glow beneath him intensified. It spread outward, enveloping his side of the board in a dark hue, their stone opponents shifting as their eyes faded from red to white. A game had been set into motion. A game of death. ________________________________________ Beyond the dungeon, the atmosphere shifted. The once-stable dungeon gate flickered, its edges warping as unstable energy crackled through the air. The stationed officers outside flinched as the distortion pulsed outward, sending vibrations through the ground. A burly man with a grizzled beard and a cigar clamped between his teeth narrowed his eyes. ¡°Something¡¯s wrong. Contact HQ. Now.¡± One of the younger officers hesitated. ¡°But sir, there¡¯s still a team inside¡ªshouldn¡¯t we prioritize a rescue operation?¡± The captain exhaled a plume of smoke, his expression grim. ¡°If the gate¡¯s this unstable, do you really think anyone in there is still alive?¡± His voice was a low growl. ¡°Our priority is containment. We can¡¯t afford an outbreak.¡± The officer swallowed hard and ran to the communication hub, fingers trembling as he keyed in the emergency alert. ________________________________________ Far away, in a desolate town, a rusted bus pulled to a stop in front of a rundown bar. The door creaked open, and five figures in tattered robes stepped out, blending seamlessly into the dilapidated surroundings. The wind carried the scent of decay, and the neon sign above the bar flickered weakly. Garrick was the last to exit, flipping a few coins to the driver before waving him off with a forced smile. The moment the bus rumbled away, his expression soured. ¡°God, I hate undercover missions.¡± ¡°Come off it, Gar,¡± Corbin muttered, tapping at the interface on his wristwatch. ¡°We need to keep a low profile.¡± A young woman with wild energy bounced ahead, scanning the ruined street with excitement. ¡°First thing¡¯s first¡ªwe need a place to crash,¡± she declared, her voice bright despite the bleak surroundings. ¡°Wait, Rin¡ª¡± Corbin called, but she was already darting ahead. With a sigh, he motioned for the rest to follow, his boots crunching against the dust-coated pavement. As they passed under a crooked sign swinging lazily in the wind, the faded letters above them: Welcome to Doitand. Battlefield Check The hall was steeped in an eerie silence, the only sounds being the distant ticking of an unseen clock and the slow, deliberate movements of chess pieces shifting across the board. The air pulsed with tension, the weight of unseen forces pressing down on Denwen¡¯s shoulders. His mind was a battlefield, every decision a sword strike, every move a gamble between life and death. The chessboard stretched out before him, no longer just a simple game, but a war-torn land where his allies stood as living pieces, bound by unseen forces that dictated their movements. The opposition, led by the spectral Queen in her pale, expressionless majesty, loomed over them like a reaper. Every move she made was swift, calculated, merciless. She did not speak, yet Denwen could feel her presence suffocating the board, her influence spreading like a creeping plague. A knight moved, steel greaves scraping against the marble floor, and a bishop followed, robes fluttering as a diagonal path of light illuminated his route. The clash of essence resounded, magic flaring as a captured piece exploded into shimmering dust. The game had reached a fever pitch, and every participant felt it¡ªtheir lives hung by the slender thread of Denwen¡¯s choices. He swallowed hard. "Bishop takes C2," Denwen commanded, his voice cutting through the thick silence. Elara¡¯s eyes widened as the board responded. The tile beneath her feet glowed, and a brilliant diagonal streak of light traced a path toward the opposition¡¯s knight. She hesitated, fear glimmering in her emerald gaze, but the unseen force compelling her body left her no room for doubt. Her hands came together, and a burst of radiance shot forth. It struck the enemy knight with crushing force, an explosion of golden essence disintegrating the figure where it stood. Across the board, the Queen narrowed her eyes ever so slightly, displeasure ghosting across her usually impassive face. Without a word, a goblin pawn lurched forward, its gnarled hands grasping at a vulnerable piece and crushing it effortlessly. The game was shifting back and forth, each side trading blows, each move leading them further down an unknown path. The tension mounted. Elara trembled, her breaths shallow and ragged. Roran, who had yet to move, sat stiffly, watching Denwen with a silent plea in his eyes. Garrick, stationed deep in enemy territory as a knight, clenched his fists, understanding all too well the gravity of their situation. Denwen was playing not just to win¡ªbut to survive. Yet survival was never simple. The Queen made her move. She advanced toward Roran, her form gliding across the board, her piercing gaze locking onto him like a predator stalking its prey. A pawn stood in his path, offering a fragile barrier, but there was only one true defense¡ªGarrick. Denwen¡¯s heart pounded. The realization struck like a hammer to his chest. If Garrick moved to defend, they would lose an offensive advantage. If he attacked instead, Roran would be left to die. ¡°Ren!¡± Roran¡¯s voice cracked with desperation, his hands gripping the sides of his seat. ¡°Come on, do something! Don¡¯t let her take me!¡± Denwen¡¯s breath hitched. His mind spun, unraveling every possibility, every angle. His pieces were too far¡ªhis bishop trapped, his pawn an insufficient defense. A bead of sweat slid down his temple. His hand hovered over the board, fingers trembling. ¡°Hey, kid,¡± Garrick¡¯s voice broke through the chaos, steady despite the storm raging around them. ¡°You can use me.¡± Denwen turned to him, eyes wide. ¡°I can defend,¡± Garrick continued, voice resolute. ¡°Use me against her.¡± Elara gasped, hands clutched to her chest, tears forming in her eyes. She had fallen to her knees, unwilling to watch the decision unfold. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. Denwen clenched his jaw. His heart slammed against his ribs. Then, suddenly¡ª A revelation. His eyes flicked across the board, tracing paths, unseen connections forming in his mind. A move. A move that changed everything. A smile, sharp and triumphant, tugged at his lips. "Knight to C6." A flicker of light. Then silence. The entire board seemed to still. Roran slumped forward, his breath escaping in a shudder. Garrick¡¯s eyes widened in disbelief. Elara held her breath. Denwen let out a low chuckle. ¡°Let me see that cocky smile now,¡± he sneered, his voice brimming with defiance. The Queen¡¯s statue-like face shifted. A frown. A royal check would place the enemy king and queen under check simultaneously as in most situations the Queen ends up getting captured but this was different. It was battlefield check. It was not just a simple attack¡ªit was a masterpiece of war. The opposition¡¯s rook, their bishop, their King, and their Queen¡ªall placed in simultaneous danger. Four pieces, trapped under threat. Garrick stood at the center of it all, the knight who had changed the battlefield in an instant. For the first time, the enemy was at a disadvantage. But then¡ª The Queen smiled. Denwen¡¯s breath caught. A chill slithered down his spine. The board lit up. A white knight¡¯s square glowed ominously. A path traced through the board¡ªcutting straight to Garrick. Denwen¡¯s stomach plummeted. The tile beneath Garrick¡¯s feet burned red. Elara¡¯s scream cut through the air. ¡°No! Garrick!¡± Roran turned, his face twisted in helpless despair. ¡°Ren!¡± he muttered helplessly looking at Denwen hoping he could do something. Denwen stared in horror, his mind clawing for a way out, an alternative, a miracle¡ª But there was none. A cold, sharp neigh echoed as the spectral knight advanced. Its warhorse stepped forward, hooves clicking against marble, each sound a slow, cruel drumbeat of inevitability. Garrick exhaled. He turned to Denwen, offering a small, tired smile. His lips moved, mouthing words Denwen could barely process¡ª "I¡¯m sorry." The knight raised its scythe. The blade descended. A single, clean strike. Garrick¡¯s head separated from his body. Blood spurted, crimson painting the board. His form crumpled¡ªthen, like a sandcastle washed away by the tide, he disintegrated into nothingness. The hall fell into suffocating silence. Denwen couldn¡¯t breathe. His hands clenched into fists, nails biting into his skin. His vision blurred, a haze of shock, fury, and grief. He tried everything possible to keep everyone alive but a slight mistake of not properly over looking the board properly would probably cause him two of his team mates. ----- Outside¡ª The distant wail of sirens. Enforcement officers gathered around the unstable dungeon gate, their vehicles forming a perimeter. Yellow caution tape fluttered in the wind, cordoning off the area. The captain, a grizzled man with a cigar pressed between his lips, stepped out of a hover van, surveying the scene with narrowed eyes. He exhaled, a thick plume of smoke escaping into the night air. ¡°It¡¯s been over six hours,¡± he muttered, his voice laced with weary apprehension. ¡°And still nothing.¡± His gaze flicked toward the gate, a distorted, swirling void of unstable energy. ¡°The best-case scenario is that this thing collapses without an incident,¡± he mused, rolling the cigar between his fingers. ¡°But with how unstable it looks right now¡­¡± He took another slow drag, his eyes dark with foreboding. ¡°¡­we might already be too late.¡± The Queen’s Game A battlefield of black and white stretched into eternity. Pale moonlight spilled onto the chessboard, casting elongated shadows across its checkered expanse. The pieces stood like statues¡ªsoldiers carved from bone-white marble and obsidian-black stone, their faces emotionless yet alive with unspoken purpose. Denwen¡¯s hand hovered over the board, sweat trailing down his temple as he tried to think about the next move forward. Closeby, the Queen watched from her throne, a motionless specter wrapped in cold elegance. She did not speak, but the weight of her presence was suffocating. The silence was thick, broken only by the ragged breaths of the remaining players. Elara¡¯s quiet sobs filled the space, fragile and broken, a stark contrast to the ruthless battlefield they stood upon. Denwen¡¯s vision blurred. His hands clenched the arms of his throne, nails digging into the polished bone. His mind was spiraling, drowning in the echoes of Garrick¡¯s last moment, the expression frozen on his face before he was erased from existence. A voice cut through the choking grief like a blade. "You guys get yourselves together! We have to win this!" Kaelin¡¯s voice was firm, resolute. There was no hesitation, no grief on his face¡ªonly the severity of their situation reflected in the hard lines of his expression. His warhorse snorted beneath him, hooves grinding against the chessboard, ready to charge. The characteristic laziness he normally showed not see during this moment as the reality of the situation settled into everyone¡¯s minds. "Garrick wouldn¡¯t want us to mope about his death," Kaelin continued, his sharp gaze locking onto Denwen. "If we don¡¯t do this, we are all doomed. Hey, kid, you should know better than this. You said we¡¯re your pieces, right? Then play the damn game. If you hesitate now, we all die for nothing." His voice carried weight, dragging Denwen back from the depths of his spiraling thoughts. "Remember, we just need to win," Kaelin pressed. "Even if you¡¯re the only one left at the end, make sure you win." He exhaled sharply. "And get the authorities involved, kid. You were right. We should have listened to you. Hopefully, in our next life, we won¡¯t be as stupid as we were today." Denwen swallowed hard, forcing clarity into his thoughts. He tightened his grip on the throne. "Rook to C1," he commanded. Roran¡¯s piece shifted, moving out of the Queen¡¯s radar. The game continued, each move a battle of survival. Every advance was countered, every retreat was punished. The enemy played mercilessly, forcing them into a desperate struggle. Denwen''s mind burned as he tried to protect his key pieces¡ªKaelin the knight, Elara the bishop, Roran the rook and the king itself to avoid a checkmate¡ªwhile still finding a way to break through. But the pressure was unrelenting. The last pawn was crushed beneath the enemy¡¯s advance. And then Kaelin was trapped. Denwen¡¯s breath hitched. His fingers twitched over the board, desperate to find a way out, but no move would save him. Kaelin looked at him and shook his head in resignation as though asking to keep on playing as he would without holding back. "Hey, kid, play me to B4," Roran¡¯s voice came through, calm but firm. Denwen froze. His mind calculated the move instantly. It would protect Kaelin. But it would cost Roran his life. "No," Denwen muttered. "We can find another way¡ª" "There''s no other way, kid," Roran interrupted. "You know it. Play me to B4, and we¡¯ll have a better chance." Denwen¡¯s hands trembled. "You¡¯re asking me to sacrifice you." If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Roran chuckled, a short, dry laugh. "What did you expect? That we¡¯d all make it out alive? Look around, Denwen. This isn¡¯t a game any longer, this is war. And in war, sacrifices are made. This is the life we all chose as hunters when we first registered, it was only a matter of time before death came knocking" His voice softened, but his resolve did not waver. "Besides, we all believe you can win this. Don¡¯t water down a man¡¯s conviction, please." Kaelin¡¯s voice rang out, sharp and unwavering. "Kid, do it. We all know you can win this, and we¡¯ve already resolved to help you." Denwen swallowed thickly. The command left his lips like a death sentence. "Rook to B4." The Queen''s eyes gleamed as her piece moved. Roran barely had time to smirk before her gaze fell upon him. His body convulsed, the black stone of his rook form cracking as invisible hands tore through the pieces and with him frozen unable to move it tore him apart piece by piece. His scream was brief. Then he was gone. Denwen forced himself to keep moving. Elara¡¯s piece shifted forward, placing the enemy king in check. But the king merely stepped aside. Kaelin was still trapped. Denwen¡¯s heartbeat pounded in his skull. His breathing became uneven. He had to think. Had to find a way out. Had to¡ª A face flashed in his mind. A memory. A person. His body locked up, his chest tightening as panic seized him. His vision blurred at the edges, breaths turning shallow. His mind began to go into a place he didn¡¯t want to visit as his thoughts was running wild. He racked his brain trying to think of a way out, he tried to be cold, he tried to be calculative, this team scammed him on the first day that they met so why was he feeling this way, why did this remind him of that certain day when everything fell apart for him. He was spiraling. Drowning. "Hey, kid!" Kaelin¡¯s voice anchored him. "Don¡¯t think about it too much. There¡¯s nothing you can do to save me now." Denwen¡¯s vision cleared just in time to see Kaelin shift his piece into position, standing before the enemy¡¯s white bishop. The bishop raised its palm. A bright light flared. Kaelin closed his eyes. Denwen turned away. A scream. Flesh turning to embers. The stench of burning skin. Then silence. Denwen exhaled shakily, but before he could speak, Elara snapped. ¡°No! No, no, no, I can¡¯t die here! No!" She banged on the edges of her square frantically, fingers clawing at the boundaries as if she could break free by sheer desperation. "Elara, focus!" Denwen pleaded. "We can win. I have a strategy¡ª" "Oh, right, a strategy!" Her voice twisted with hysteria. "Like the one that got Garrick killed? The one that got Kaelin killed? You killed all of us! You did this!" Denwen recoiled. "That¡¯s not¡ª" A cackle sliced through the tension. A feminine voice, smooth and amused. "Hehehehe¡­ I suppose a useless piece that can¡¯t follow the rules ruins the fun." Denwen¡¯s blood ran cold. The Queen had spoken, her voice sending shivers down both of their spines. Before he could react, Elara¡¯s square burst into flames. Her screams were piercing, raw and agonized as fire consumed her, melting flesh from bone. Her body writhed, her fingers curled in desperation, her eyes hollow with terror as her skin peeled away like paper in the inferno. The Queen smiled, watching from her throne: ¡°Broken pieces like that deserves to be discarded, am I wrong bearer?¡± she asked resting her head on her right hand staring down in amusement. Denwen sat frozen, unable to comprehend anything that was happening any longer. The Queen’s Odd Move The room reeked of death and burnt flesh, the air thick with an acrid stench that clung to the skin like a second layer. The chessboard had become a graveyard, the once grand battlefield now littered with the remnants of his fallen comrades. Smoke curled from the scorched square where Elara had been just moments ago, her final screams still echoing in Denwen¡¯s ears. The oppressive silence that followed was far worse. The Queen finally moved. A slow, deliberate step. The clicking of her obsidian heels against the checkered floor resonated like the tolling of a funeral bell. She rose from her throne, her towering nine-foot frame cutting through the dim light, her elongated limbs moving with an unnatural grace. She wasn¡¯t just a piece in this game¡ªshe was something more, something wrong. ¡°You know,¡± she mused, her voice silk laced with steel, ¡°I didn¡¯t expect to find a Bearer in such a backwater civilization.¡± Denwen¡¯s breath hitched, his battered body stiffening in the throne that no longer felt like a place of power, but a cage. Bearer? The word meant nothing to him, yet something in his bones recoiled at the sound. The Queen moved closer, her eerie, pupil-less eyes narrowing as she inspected him like a rare artifact. With a flick of her wrist, a wave of invisible force rippled through the air. Denwen barely had time to react before his mask shuddered, sparks flying as the small device crackled and twisted unnaturally. The static noise clawed at his ears, the distortion warping the edges of his vision. The masking device on his face burnt out, a thin tendril of smoke curling into the air as it disintegrated. ¡°There,¡± the Queen said, satisfaction dripping from her voice. ¡°Now we can talk properly.¡± Denwen swallowed, his throat dry as sandpaper. His mind was screaming at him to move, to run¡ªbut his body refused to obey. Every muscle was locked in place, frozen under the weight of an unnatural presence that wasn''t supposed to exist here. The Queen leaned in, her towering form blotting out what little light remained. The sheer scale of her made Denwen feel small, like a mere insect before a predator that had long since perfected the art of hunting. ¡°What¡¯s with the poor disguise, or the fear?¡± she mused, tapping a clawed finger against his cheek, her nail cold against his skin. ¡°Come now, you should know that my power at this level wouldn¡¯t work on a Bearer like yourself.¡± She tilted her head, curiosity gleaming in her empty eyes. Then, she spoke again, but¡ª ¡°What is the ability of your !@#@@¡± The world glitched. Denwen felt it rather than heard it¡ªreality itself bending, twisting, fighting against her words. The sound came out distorted, garbled, as if the very fabric of existence refused to allow the information to be known. The Queen staggered back. Her expression contorted into a mixture of surprise and irritation. ¡°¡­What?¡± Her voice lost its silkiness, turning sharp and demanding. Denwen¡¯s breathing came in rapid, shallow gasps. He didn¡¯t understand. He didn¡¯t understand any of this. But what terrified him the most was that she didn¡¯t seem to either. ¡°Wait¡­ I don¡¯t understand what you¡¯re saying,¡± he rasped. His voice was barely above a whisper, his mind scrambling for answers that simply weren¡¯t there. He had heard stories of intelligent Disasters, monsters that could speak, that could reason¡ªbut they weren¡¯t supposed to appear in gates of this level. She wasn¡¯t supposed to be here. And yet, here she was. The Queen¡¯s gaze darkened, her lips pressing into a thin line. ¡°Hmm¡­¡± she hummed, before shaking her head. ¡°Let¡¯s try this again.¡± She turned to one of the remaining pieces¡ªthe White Bishop, whose burning gaze flickered with unwavering obedience. ¡°What I am saying,¡± she continued, her tone measured, ¡°is that you could use your @#@$@#! to help restart my @#@#$$%$^%&¡ª¡± This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Static. Garbled noise. A hollow, echoing silence. She snapped her head back in fury, her face twisting into something monstrous, something barely human. ¡°FUCK.¡± The single word boomed through the dungeon, a tremor running through the checkered floor. Pieces of the board cracked beneath the weight of her aura, fractures spreading like veins through the tiles. Denwen winced as an invisible pressure slammed against him, crushing him deeper into the throne. He gasped, his lungs barely able to expand under the suffocating force. The Queen¡¯s rage was palpable, her entire form seething with barely contained violence. She turned on her heel, kicking a pawn so hard that the piece shattered, its fragments scattering across the board. The other pieces flinched, shuffling back in instinctive fear. She exhaled sharply, forcing herself to regain composure. Calmly¡ªalmost too calmly¡ªshe stepped toward Denwen once more. Her fingers were cold as she lifted his chin, her grip unyielding yet deceptively gentle, like a predator toying with its meal. ¡°I have my theory,¡± she murmured, her voice dropping into something far more intimate. ¡°Let¡¯s test it.¡± Before he could react, she raised her thumb and scratched his chin, drawing a thin line of blood. Denwen¡¯s entire body locked up as she licked it from her fingertip. Then¡ª Her pupils dilated, her body shuddering violently as if she had just tasted the rarest delicacy in existence. A slow, twisted grin crept across her face. ¡°¡­After so many eons of searching,¡± she whispered, the realization sinking in like a blade. ¡°It¡¯s finally here. The @@$@!# has been found.¡± She laughed. A laughter so unhinged, so filled with glee and madness that the entire dungeon seemed to tremble in response. ¡°I¡¯ve been stuck in this backwater planet, feeding on disgusting disasters to stay sane, and then¡ªyou. A Bearer of the @#@$$@. Just strolling into my hands. And you don¡¯t even know it.¡± Her laughter abruptly cut off. The mirth vanished, replaced by something far darker. ¡°No,¡± she muttered. ¡°I won¡¯t take you to them.¡± Denwen¡¯s breath stilled. She turned, her expression sharp with determination. ¡°I¡¯ll break you down. I¡¯ll absorb every last piece of you and use it to elevate my existence beyond anything those bastards who trapped me here could ever imagine.¡± The dungeon shook. The throne beneath Denwen vanished, dropping him onto the cold checkered floor. A Knight loomed over him, using the blunt end of his scythe to slam him forward. The goblin pawns surged in, their sharp claws digging into his flesh as they beat him down. His ribs cracked, pain blossoming in brutal, sharp bursts. Above them, the Queen smiled, blowing him a mocking kiss as his body was pulverized. Denwen¡¯s mind splintered. ¡°I can¡¯t die here.¡± Then¡ª A glint of silver. A ring tumbled from his torn clothing, landing beside him. The pieces ignored it, focused only on breaking him further. Denwen¡¯s fingers twitched. With the last dregs of his strength, he touched the ring, channeling every ounce of essence he had left. The ring glowed. ¡°NO! CUT OFF HIS HAND¡ªNOW!¡± The Queen¡¯s voice was filled with panic. Space bent. The Knight swung¡ªbut Denwen vanished. A scream of pure rage filled the collapsing dungeon. ¡°NOOOOOO! MY TICKET¡ªDENWENNNNNN!¡± Then¡ª Silence. ---- Outside the dungeon, the gate continued to warp violently and began to twist threatening to collapse, the captain outside taking out his cigar: ¡°Looks like a collapse was inevitable, guess we were lucky¡± as he was talking a spatial light shone as a mutilated body with bones twisted in unnatural positions appeared outside the dungeon: ¡°Medics, get the Medics here now¡± he shouted dishing out commands. The Abyss Returns The darkness swallowed everything. It was thick¡ªsuffocating¡ªlike tar clinging to Denwen¡¯s skin, pulling him deeper, deeper, deeper into an abyss where no light existed. A silent void stretched infinitely in all directions, pressing in on him, warping his sense of self. He tried to move, but his body was weightless, drifting like a corpse in a bottomless ocean. Then¡ª A step echoed. A slow, deliberate click against the unseen floor. Denwen¡¯s breath hitched. He was not alone. Another step. Then another. The sound reverberated unnaturally, crawling into his ears, burrowing into his mind. The presence was near¡ªtoo near¡ªthough he could see nothing in the oppressive dark. And then¡ª The abyss opened its eyes. Two glowing white singularities flared to life before him, burning like distant stars against the black. They weren¡¯t human. They weren¡¯t even alive. They were something else¡ªsomething beyond understanding¡ªbeyond existence. A mouth followed, slow and deliberate, stretching into a crescent grin. It was too wide, too sharp, filled with teeth that weren¡¯t quite teeth, but shadows sharpened to unnatural edges. The grin didn¡¯t belong on a human face. It stared at him. It knew him. ¡°Denwen.¡± The voice was everywhere. It crawled up his spine, wrapped around his ribs, and slithered into his skull like worms burrowing deep. It wasn¡¯t loud. It didn¡¯t need to be. The sheer weight of its presence crushed the very air in his lungs. ¡°Did you enjoy playing god?¡± Denwen tried to breathe, tried to move¡ªbut his limbs were locked in place, paralyzed by the abyssal gravity of the entity before him. His voice, his essence, his will¡ªit was all slipping away, swallowed by that terrible, hungry smile. ¡°They screamed for you.¡± The darkness shifted. Shapes emerged. Figures broken, battered, lifeless¡ªhis comrades. Elara stood before him, or what remained of her. Half of her face was burnt beyond recognition, the right side of her skull exposed, white bone gleaming against charred flesh. Her mouth moved¡ªsilent, pleading. Behind her, Kaelin lay crumpled, his limbs bent at impossible angles, his eyes wide with an expression of agony frozen in time. The massive hole in his chest still smoldered, the edges blackened as if she had been eaten away from the inside. Garric¡¯s decapitated head rolled to Denwen¡¯s feet, his dead eyes staring up at him, lips trembling, forming soundless words. They reached for him. Hands mangled and bloody, clawing at his legs, his chest, his throat. Their fingers dug into his skin, tearing, ripping, breaking¡ª ¡°You were our Queen.¡± A voice hissed in his ear. ¡°You moved the pieces.¡± The darkness shifted, and Denwen saw himself. Seated upon the throne, high above the chessboard of carnage and ruin. He saw his own hand, moving them across the battlefield, directing them to their deaths. One by one, his comrades fell. Elara screamed. Kaelin begged. Garric died with his name on his lips. And yet, he never stopped moving the pieces. ¡°You had all the power.¡± The grinning entity stepped forward, the abyss twisting around it like a living thing. ¡°And yet, you did¡ªnothing.¡± The suffocating weight of guilt bore down on Denwen. His breath came in ragged, uneven gasps as the hands of his fallen comrades tightened around his throat, squeezing, crushing¡ªdragging him down into the abyss with them. Then¡ª Laughter. Sweet, terrible laughter. The Queen¡¯s voice slithered through the void, mocking, indulgent. She emerged from the blackness, her towering form cutting through the abyss like a sharpened blade. Her eyes, empty and knowing, glowed with amusement. ¡°Oh, Denwen¡­¡± she crooned, stepping closer, her obsidian heels clicking against the unseen surface. ¡°Did you truly think you could just leave?¡± She loomed over him, tilting his chin up with one cold, clawed finger. ¡°You played my game.¡± Her smile widened, hungry and full of cruelty. ¡°And now you¡¯re mine.¡± Denwen thrashed, but his body wouldn¡¯t obey. He was drowning, being pulled deeper into the abyss. The hands of his fallen comrades gripped his arms, his legs, his soul¡ªdragging him into the endless black. ¡°No.¡± He gasped. ¡°No, no, no¡ª¡± The Grinning Man¡¯s teeth gleamed. The Queen¡¯s eyes burned. ¡°Checkmate.¡± Then¡ª Cold hands wrapped around his face. His body jerked violently. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. Denwen screamed. Awakening Light blinded him. Denwen thrashed, his limbs flailing, his throat raw from the sound that still tore from his lips. The warmth of hands¡ªhuman hands¡ªpressed against him, holding him firm. ¡°Denwen! Denwen!¡± The voice¡ªhis mother¡¯s voice¡ªcut through the haze of horror. He was no longer in the abyss. The scent of antiseptic flooded his nose. Bright white hospital walls surrounded him. The nightmare¡ªwas over. But it didn¡¯t feel over. His body was drenched in sweat, his hospital gown clinging to his skin. His breath came in ragged, desperate gasps, his pulse hammering against his ribs like a war drum. His mother was there¡ªRacheal¡ªher hands cradling his face, her eyes wide with fear and worry. ¡°Shh¡­ shh¡­ it¡¯s okay, you¡¯re safe, you¡¯re safe,¡± she whispered, brushing his damp hair back. But he wasn¡¯t. The Grinning Man¡¯s laughter still echoed in his skull. The Queen¡¯s eyes still burned in the back of his mind. The hands of the dead still clung to his flesh. And worst of all¡ª It felt as though he was being constantly watched. --- The hospital room was filled with a heavy silence, one that pressed down on Denwen¡¯s chest like an iron weight. His skin was slick with sweat, his breathing still uneven from the remnants of the nightmare that had clung to him like a second skin. The echoes of the abyss still lingered at the edges of his mind, whispering, taunting. Then¡ª A familiar voice cut through the tension. ¡°Bro, at this point, you should just come out plain and tell us you¡¯re in love with Lady Death,¡± Roy said, arms crossed, trying to mask his concern with humor. His smirk was casual, but his eyes weren¡¯t. They held the kind of exhaustion that only someone who had been worried sick could have. Kara, who had been silently standing nearby, shot him a glare sharp enough to cut steel before turning away and making a beeline for the bathroom, the door shutting behind her with a little too much force. ¡°You really know how to give a girl trouble.¡± Nicole sighed, shaking her head in exasperation. ¡°At this rate, you¡¯ll be the reason I get gray hairs before I turn twenty.¡± Her voice was light, but there was no missing the relief in it. Denwen forced a small chuckle, but it came out weak¡ªhollow. His gaze swept the room, taking in the figures around him. Varek stood near the far wall, arms folded tightly across his chest. His head was tilted downward, his face set in deep, quiet disappointment. He wouldn¡¯t even look at Denwen. Wouldn¡¯t meet his eyes. That hurt more than any physical wound. Racheal, his mother, turned toward him, shaking her head. Her expression was a mixture of relief, frustration, and something else¡ªsomething deeper. ¡°You know you¡¯re in a lot of trouble, young man,¡± she murmured, her voice carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken worries. ¡°But for now, focus on recovering.¡± She gestured to the bandages wrapping his body, a clear reminder of just how much pain he was still in. Denwen sighed, slumping back against the pillows. His body ached, every movement sending sharp stabs of discomfort through his muscles. ¡°At this point,¡± he muttered, ¡°I¡¯ve been admitted to the hospital more times in the past few months than in my entire life. Now, I don¡¯t even know how long this is gonna take to heal.¡± His voice wasn¡¯t just exhausted. It carried something heavier¡ªa deep, gnawing self-disappointment that clenched around his ribs like a vice. A silence followed. Tense. Uncomfortable. Unspoken emotions clashing in the air. Then¡ª A voice cut through the tension, sharp and absolute. Varek. ¡°Guys.¡± His father¡¯s voice was calm but firm, edged with something undeniable. Something final. ¡°Give us the room. I need to speak with him. Alone.¡± Denwen¡¯s stomach dropped. His heart sank like a stone into the pit of his gut. The others hesitated for only a second. Nicole glanced between them, her expression flickering with concern. Roy didn¡¯t crack a joke this time. Even Racheal, who had been tending to him moments ago, gave her son one last lingering look before nodding. One by one, they filed out. The door clicked shut behind them. And then, there was only silence. Only him and his father. Denwen swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. Varek still hadn¡¯t moved from his place by the wall. Hadn¡¯t spoken. Hadn¡¯t looked at him. The air felt heavy. Denwen could already tell¡ª This conversation would not be easy. Echoes of the Abyss The wind whispered through the open window, its cold fingers teasing the curtains as they billowed in slow, ghostly waves. The soft rustling was the only sound in the room, a stark contrast to the tension that thickened the air, pressing against Denwen¡¯s chest like a heavy weight. The moment Varek had spoken, everyone had known what was coming. Roy sighed and stretched, running a hand through his golden hair before offering a fist toward Denwen. ¡°Catch you later, bud.¡± Denwen weakly returned the gesture, his body sluggish, aching from the battle¡¯s aftermath. He watched as Roy tucked his hands into his pockets and strode toward the door, the usual cocky energy in his steps subdued, weighed down by something unspoken. Rachael lingered, her sharp gaze flicking toward Varek for a brief moment before she turned back to Denwen. She leaned in, wrapping her arms around him in a firm yet gentle embrace, stroking his hair with a motherly tenderness. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± she murmured, her voice a quiet promise. ¡°If he gets too extreme, you can trust me to come to your rescue.¡± She pulled back, a teasing smile tugging at her lips, but her eyes were filled with concern. Nicole, on the other hand, said nothing. She simply turned, her expression unreadable, and walked away, her silence carrying more weight than any words could. Denwen swallowed hard as Rachael turned toward Varek, placing a hand on his shoulder. ¡°Dear, don¡¯t be too hard on him,¡± she said softly, her touch lingering for just a moment before she followed the others out. Varek didn¡¯t respond. He only nodded, his posture rigid. The door closed with a dull thud. And then there was only silence. Not the peaceful kind, but the heavy, suffocating kind that pressed against Denwen¡¯s ribs, making every second feel like an eternity. His head hung low, guilt gnawing at the edges of his mind like a relentless parasite. Varek remained by the wall, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. He hadn¡¯t moved, hadn¡¯t spoken. The longer the silence stretched, the more unbearable it became. Denwen clenched his fists beneath the sheets. His breathing grew uneven. He had to say something¡ªanything. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± The words slipped from his lips, raw and unsteady. His throat felt tight, as if something was lodged there, blocking everything else he wanted to say. ¡°I remembered what you told me¡ªI did. But I couldn¡¯t just sit still and watch myself slowly become an invalid.¡± He exhaled sharply, gripping the sheets as though they were the only thing anchoring him. ¡°I know what you¡¯re going to say. That I should have waited. That I should have been patient. That I was reckless¡ª¡± A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. His voice cracked. His chest hurt, but not from his wounds. ¡°But you all¡­ you don¡¯t understand how much I need to get stronger.¡± His gaze lifted, desperation flickering in his eyes as he met Varek¡¯s steady, unreadable stare. ¡°I can¡¯t stay like this. Not when I¡¯m already at a disadvantage. My D-grade talent¡ª¡± He let out a hollow laugh, one filled with self-loathing. ¡°That was my first letdown, wasn¡¯t it? The moment I awakened, I was already fated to struggle, to fight twice as hard just to be half as good as everyone else.¡± His hands curled into fists. The bandages around his arms strained against his movements, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the storm raging inside him. ¡°The resources, the essence cores I got from the academy¡ªthey¡¯re not enough. Not enough to bridge the gap, not enough to let me catch up.¡± His voice wavered, emotions bubbling over, threatening to drown him. ¡°What am I supposed to do?¡± His tone rose, frustration bleeding into every word. ¡°You want me to be safe, to be careful, but what other choice do I have? Beg for handouts? Hope someone pities me? Do you want me to steal, to bully others just to get what I need?¡± He shook his head, scoffing bitterly. ¡°Because that¡¯s what it comes down to, doesn¡¯t it? Either I accept my place at the bottom, or I fight for a way out.¡± His breathing was ragged, his entire body trembling. He had laid it all bare¡ªhis frustration, his anger, his fear. But Varek remained silent. His face was unreadable, his eyes betraying nothing. And somehow, that made it worse. Denwen hesitated, feeling his heart hammering against his ribs. His lips parted, as if there was more he wanted to say¡ªsomething deeper¡ªbut he faltered. He had already said too much. Varek exhaled slowly. ¡°Sigh¡­¡± His voice was quiet, measured. ¡°And the goal has always been what, Den? Always been what?¡± He pushed off the wall, his movements slow, deliberate, as he walked toward the bed and sat down on the chair beside him. Denwen turned his gaze away, looking out through the window. The sun hung high in the sky, its glow casting long shadows across the floor. ¡°You know,¡± Varek mused, his voice laced with something almost wistful, ¡°I¡¯ve always been happy that you never had a teenage rebellious phase. But I guess it was only delayed.¡± He let out a soft chuckle, rubbing his face before shaking his head. ¡°But Denwen¡­ from the day we found you, you¡¯ve always had a darkness inside you. Something¡­ hidden. Something eating away at you, like an abyss you refuse to let anyone see.¡± His eyes softened¡ªjust a little. ¡°There¡¯s nothing worse than being hunted by wounds you refuse to heal from,¡± he continued, tapping his own chest lightly. ¡°And the first step to healing? It¡¯s not just fighting harder. It¡¯s not just getting stronger. It¡¯s sharing those wounds with the people who can bear them with you.¡± He leaned forward slightly. ¡°The more you keep it inside, the more it feeds on you. On your sanity. Until one day, it¡¯s not just your pain anymore¡ªit becomes the pain of everyone who cares about you.¡± Denwen¡¯s lips parted, trembling slightly, but no words came out. His throat felt tight, his chest heavy. Varek watched him closely, his sharp eyes taking in everything¡ªthe way Denwen clenched the sheets, the way his jaw tensed, the way his gaze flickered with something unspoken. But he didn¡¯t push. Instead, he let the silence settle between them once more, letting the wind do the talking as it whispered through the room. The minutes stretched. Then, finally¡ª ¡°You want to get stronger, huh?¡± Varek murmured. Denwen turned back toward him, nodding stiffly. Varek studied him for a long moment before leaning back slightly, arms crossing over his chest. ¡°Hm¡­ This takes me back,¡± he mused, a hint of nostalgia creeping into his voice. ¡°Back to when I had just finished from the academy. An early Rank 2, a C-grade talent with a bright future ahead of me¡­¡± Denwen blinked, his attention caught. Varek¡¯s voice lowered, his gaze distant. ¡°But strength, Denwen¡­ True strength? It isn¡¯t just about power. And I learned that the hard way.¡± His voice carried something heavy¡ªsomething buried in the past. And for the first time since the conversation started, Denwen wasn¡¯t just thinking about himself. He was listening. Sen Years ago, a younger Varek, freshly graduated from the academy and brimming with ambition, stood before his closest comrades in the guild hall. The air was thick with the scent of wood polish and old parchment, the walls adorned with banners of various adventuring teams. Sun rays casting wavering shadows over their eager faces. With a triumphant slam, he placed a parchment stamped with an official guild emblem onto the round table. "Guys, we got approved!" Varek declared, his voice carrying the weight of excitement and pride. The silence that followed was brief before Vahn, a tall, broad-shouldered youth with wild golden hair, jumped up, throwing his arm around Varek¡¯s shoulder. His eyes sparkled with uncontained glee. "No way! You serious?" Vahn laughed, pulling him into a half-hug, nearly shaking Varek off his feet. Across the table, another young man sat with his arms crossed, his expression a stark contrast to Vahn¡¯s enthusiasm. His spiky crimson hair giving him a sharp, almost predatory aura. His silver eyes gleamed, but not with joy¡ªwith scrutiny. "You two should learn to compose yourselves," Sen muttered, shaking his head. "We¡¯re not students anymore. You¡¯re acting like you just won the academy tournament." Though his words were sharp, there was an unmistakable smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Oh, come on, man. Don¡¯t act like you¡¯re not even a little excited," Vahn prodded, attempting to throw his arm around Sen¡¯s shoulder. Sen, in true fashion, leaned back smoothly, dodging the gesture with practiced ease. "Hmph," Sen scoffed, arms still folded. "Someone has to be the rational one among us." Varek let out a chuckle, lifting the stamped parchment. His hands trembled slightly¡ªnot with fear, but with exhilaration. "You know, the reason we got approved on the first try wasn¡¯t luck. It was because of our academy certificates and the fact that our ranks are already at a minimum of Rank 2," Varek said proudly. "I guess those years in school weren¡¯t a waste after all." Sen rolled his eyes. "I told you¡ªstrength without understanding is nothing. You can have all the power in the world, but if you don¡¯t know how to use it, you¡¯re just another fool swinging a blade around." Without missing a beat, he flicked his wrist, and a holographic display flickered to life above his wrist device. Lines of data scrolled past his narrowed eyes as he analyzed potential missions. "Before we do anything reckless, we need a proper mission. Something to fine-tune our teamwork and make sure we¡¯re in top shape before we even think about tackling a dungeon." But instead of agreeing, Varek and Vahn exchanged knowing glances. Then they burst out laughing. Sen frowned. "What?" Vahn leaned against the table, grinning. "No need to look for a mission, bro." He threw an arm around Sen¡¯s shoulders, ignoring his attempts to shrug him off. "Varek here already picked the perfect dungeon." Sen narrowed his eyes, his grip tightening around the handle of his black-iron battle axe. A creeping sense of unease settled in his gut. "Huh? What do you mean?" he asked slowly. Varek leaned forward, his fiery orange eyes alight with anticipation. "I picked the Wyvern¡¯s Lair," he announced. The color drained from Sen¡¯s face. His fingers clenched around the hilt of his axe so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "YOU. DID. WHAT?" he asked, his voice dangerously low. His usual calculated demeanor shattered as the weight of Varek¡¯s words settled in. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Vahn grinned. "Come on, man. You know we need a challenge to push ourselves. Our teamwork is unmatched! That dungeon is new, and it only has one beast in it." He pumped his fist. "With my water magic, Varek¡¯s fire magic, your brain and your axe¡ªwhat wyvern could possibly stand against us?" Sen exhaled sharply, closing his eyes as if pleading for patience. When he opened them again, they were sharp like steel. "You absolute morons." His voice was like ice, slicing through their excitement. "That dungeon is classified as a High Rank 2 Gate based on the readings alone. If we factor in margin errors, the Wyvern inside could be close to a full-fledged Rank 3!" He took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. "I already know what you¡¯re going to say. That back in the academy, we took down a weakened Rank 3 disaster together with our teamwork and artifacts. But let me remind you¡ª" he jabbed a finger at them. "That was a controlled environment. The beast was restrained. It wasn¡¯t anywhere close to its peak form!" Varek tried to cut in, but Sen raised a hand, silencing him. His voice was rising now, something rare for someone so level-headed. "This is real life. One mistake, one miscalculation, and we¡¯re dead." The weight of his words hung in the air. But Varek¡¯s resolve did not waver. Instead, he spoke with a tone far more measured, his passion tempered by logic. "Sen, I hear you. I understand the risks. But listen." He looked at his friend, his eyes steady. "This dungeon is new. Do you know what that means?" Sen frowned but remained silent. Varek continued. "It means the first team that conquers it gets the highest possible rewards. And do you know what kind of rewards a Wyvern-class disaster drops?" Silence. Varek pressed on. "Skill books. Rare ones. The kind that can define a person¡¯s future." Sen¡¯s shoulders tensed. Varek knew he had his attention now. "And then there¡¯s the bounty¡ªover 150,000 gold coins." He leaned back, letting the number sink in. "If we do this right, we won¡¯t have to do a dozen smaller missions to afford proper gear. We¡¯ll be set." Sen exhaled slowly, rubbing his temple. "And you want to split that reward between only the three of us?" Vahn nodded eagerly. "If we bring more people, the reward shrinks. More mouths to feed, more variables to consider. You know how it is." Varek locked eyes with Sen, his voice steady, unwavering. "We need this, Sen." His tone softened. "We need to get stronger¡ªnot just for ourselves, but for the people we care about. You¡¯ve seen the state of the world. The disasters. Emberfall. If the worst happens, and our families are caught in it, do you want to stand there helpless?" Sen remained quiet, his fingers gripping his axe so tightly that the veins on his hands bulged. Then, finally¡ª "...How the hell did I end up with idiots like you?" He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Varek and Vahn grinned. "So, that¡¯s a yes?" Varek teased. Sen shook his head. "It¡¯s a maybe¡ªand if we die, I¡¯m haunting both of you in the afterlife." Varek laughed, throwing an arm around his shoulders. "Then let¡¯s make sure we don¡¯t die." As the sun began to set, casting long shadows on the wooden walls, the three young warriors sealed their fate with reckless ambition. The hunt for the Wyvern¡¯s Lair had begun. The Wyvern’s Lair The dungeon sprawled before them like an underground abyss, a vast cavern of blackened stone lined with jagged crystalline formations that pulsed with a faint luminescence. Stalactites loomed overhead, dripping with condensation that shimmered under the eerie glow of mana-rich crystals embedded in the walls. The air was thick with moisture and carried a distant scent of sulfur, a telltale sign of the beast lurking within. Varek, standing at the forefront, let out a low whistle as he scanned the seemingly endless expanse of the cave. "Man, this place is huge. I wonder if all dungeons are like this," he mused, rolling his shoulders. The crimson leather armor he wore clung tightly to his toned form, designed for mobility while providing decent protection. A whip, its barbed edges gleaming wickedly in the faint light, rested at his side, coiled and ready. ¡°They say the size of a dungeon reflects the size of the beast inside,¡± Vahn responded, smirking as he adjusted the blue cape around his neck. His gloves, lined with thin metal strips, caught the glow of the crystals, their reinforced design meant for high-speed casting. "So if that''s true, spotting this wyvern should be a piece of cake." Behind them, Sen walked silently, the flickering light from the crystals reflecting off the gleaming white-silver axe strapped to his back. His black robe, patterned with deep crimson etchings, draped over his frame, the hem slightly brushing against the ground. His stance was relaxed, yet every step carried a sense of coiled tension¡ªlike a predator stalking its prey. Varek grinned, wrapping an arm around Sen¡¯s shoulder. "Hey, what do you think? Think we¡¯ll wrap this up in time for lunch?" Sen sighed, easily slipping out of the hold with a subtle shift of his weight. ¡°We should be focusing. Wyverns, drakes, and dragons are hypersensitive to sound.¡± His sharp crimson gaze flickered toward the depths of the cavern. ¡°If we keep talking, we¡¯re basically announcing our arrival.¡± Before any of them could respond, a deep, guttural roar rumbled through the cave, shaking the very foundations of the dungeon. The raw force of the sound sent vibrations rippling through the air, causing loose stones and dust to tumble from the ceiling. The mana in the surroundings trembled as if resonating with the beast¡¯s presence. Vahn smirked. ¡°Looks like we don¡¯t have to wait that long.¡± Varek¡¯s grin widened as he reached for his whip. With a flick of his wrist, the single length of barbed leather split into two, both whips crackling as he poured his essence into them. The moment his blue aura surged, the whips ignited, turning red-hot, their searing heat distorting the air around them. ¡°I guess we¡¯re skipping the warm-up,¡± Vahn chuckled, raising his arms as the moisture in the air responded to his will. Water molecules gathered rapidly, forming eight points in a shifting, fluid formation behind him¡ªhis defensive array taking shape. Sen, standing a few feet ahead, inhaled deeply. Then, in a single motion, he shrugged off his robe, letting it fall in a heap to the cavern floor, revealing his bare upper body¡ªhis frame lean yet built with dense muscle. The moment he grasped his axe, the surrounding mana fluctuated wildly. His azure blue aura erupted, raw and untamed, crackling with arcs of lightning that slithered around him like living serpents. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. A powerful gust of wind blasted through the cave as it emerged. From the shadows of the cavern¡¯s depths, the wyvern revealed itself¡ªa towering twelve-foot monstrosity with obsidian-black scales, each one gleaming like polished armor. Its predatory eyes, slitted and glowing like molten gold, locked onto them with chilling intelligence. As it unfurled its massive wings, jagged spikes protruded from the edges, sharp as spears. Then, with a single, devastating flap of its wings, those spikes were unleashed. The air whistled as dozens of razor-sharp projectiles rocketed toward them at terrifying speed. Vahn reacted instantly. His hands twirled in a precise motion, his essence surging as the water around him thickened and expanded outward. In a fraction of a second, a translucent dome materialized, encasing them in a barrier that absorbed the brunt of the attack. The spikes slammed into the water shield, some dissipating into harmless ripples, while others embedded themselves within the dense liquid before falling to the ground. ¡°Nice save,¡± Varek called out, already moving. With a flick of his wrist, his whips snapped forward, their heated edges slicing through the air. The moment they met the falling spikes, the barbed leather cut through them effortlessly, the shards of stone disintegrating from the sheer heat. He dashed forward, weaving through the remaining spikes with fluid precision, his footwork light and practiced. He was a blur of movement, his whips lashing out in controlled arcs, striking and deflecting debris mid-air. One particularly large spike came barreling toward him¡ªhe reacted instantly, pivoting and delivering a devastating punch, shattering the projectile into a cloud of dust. Sen watched this unfold with an amused smirk before glancing at Vahn. "Can¡¯t let him have all the fun, right?" Then he vanished. The next instant, a thunderous boom tore through the cave. The sheer force of Sen¡¯s sudden movement cracked the ground beneath him, a sonic shockwave blasting outward as he reappeared beneath the wyvern. His speed was staggering¡ªalmost imperceptible. Without hesitation, he swung his axe. BOOM! The blunt side of the weapon collided with the wyvern¡¯s lower jaw with bone-crushing force. The sheer impact sent a deafening crack through the cavern, the beast¡¯s head snapping backward violently. A gust of wind exploded outward from the point of contact, sending loose stones and dust flying. The wyvern, momentarily stunned, staggered back, its wings flaring in an attempt to regain balance. Sen smirked. "You¡¯ve got some tough scales, I¡¯ll give you that. But let¡¯s see how you handle blunt force trauma." Varek whistled, watching as the wyvern struggled to recover. "Damn, Sen. You trying to give this thing a concussion?" ¡°Here I thought we were just probing its strength¡± Vahn said shaking his head. "Less talking, more fighting," Sen replied, his axe crackling with renewed energy. The blue lightning around him intensified, the arcs snapping violently through the air. Vahn, standing within his protective dome, let out a low chuckle as he adjusted his stance. "You guys are way too reckless. Guess I better keep up." He clapped his hands together, and the water around him surged, spiraling into the shape of twin serpents. The liquid coiled around his arms before extending outward, forming two massive, blade-like constructs made entirely of compressed water. "Alright," he said, eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Let¡¯s take this thing down." The wyvern, now furious, let out a piercing screech, the sheer volume causing their eardrums to throb. Its wings tensed, its body shifting into an aggressive stance. The mana in the cavern surged in response, the beast preparing its next move. And just like that, the battle had truly begun. Primal Overdrive The deafening clashes of battle reverberated through the colossal cavern, each impact sending tremors through the rocky walls. The Wyvern was a force of nature, its obsidian-like scales deflecting their strongest attacks, making each strike feel insignificant. Its tail lashed out like a whip, carving deep grooves into the stone beneath them, its eyes burning with a primal fury that mirrored their own desperation. The fight had stretched on longer than anticipated. Too long. Vahn panted heavily, his body drenched in sweat as he formed another water barrier to shield Varek. His mana reserves were dwindling rapidly, and the dozens of elixirs he had consumed left a bitter, metallic taste in his throat. His left arm trembled from overuse, his ice-forming glove cracked and barely functioning. One of Varek¡¯s whips lay in tatters on the ground, its essence-infused strands now nothing more than useless threads. ¡°Varek, watch out!¡± he managed to shout between ragged breaths. He conjured a razor-thin water blade and flung it through the air, slicing apart an incoming spike just before it could impale his comrade. Varek staggered back, his crimson-stained armor barely holding together. His whip was now a single strand, the once-fluid weapon feeling heavier with every movement. The gashes on his arms throbbed with pain, his body screaming at him to stop. But stopping meant death. ¡°Damn it,¡± Varek muttered, gritting his teeth. His vision blurred for a second before he forced himself upright. ¡°I wish¡­ I had a better talent. Maybe I could actually help instead of slowing you both down.¡± Vahn tossed him a vial. ¡°Shut up and drink.¡± With no hesitation, Varek downed the potion, feeling the rush of temporary vitality course through his veins. But even with the boost, he knew it wouldn¡¯t last much longer. BOOM! The Wyvern roared, shaking the very air with its cry of rage, its wings sending powerful gusts across the cavern. Then, the tide shifted. A sonic boom erupted from the far side of the cave as Sen¡¯s battered body shot forth like a bolt of lightning. A low, unhinged chuckle came from the bloodied figure. His skin marred with fresh wounds, yet he stood¡ªhis grip on his axe never wavering. His wild red hair was plastered to his forehead, strands matted with his own blood. But his eyes¡ªhis eyes were different. Glowing with a terrifying intensity, they flickered between sanity and something far more primal. ¡°Shit.¡± Varek took a step back. ¡°Not this.¡± Vahn cursed under his breath. ¡°Sen¡­ calm down. If you use it in this state¡ª¡± Lightning arced around Sen¡¯s form, sizzling against the air. His lips curled into a feral grin, one that sent a chill down both their spines. ¡°Calm down?¡± Sen¡¯s voice was a deep growl, the amusement in his tone making it far more menacing. ¡°Come on, guys. I¡¯m perfectly calm.¡± The Wyvern, sensing the shift in power, hesitated for the first time. Sen had long activated his innate ability that made him terrifying amongst his peers. An ability that when he awakened it in his second year made even his seniors and some instructors avoid battling him. An ability that makes even those who are meant to be stronger, dread standing against Sen. It was more than an innate ability, It was-- Primal Overdrive. It wasn¡¯t just an ability. It was madness incarnate. Primal Overdrive wasn¡¯t a simple enhancement skill or a low-level innate ability¡ªit was a devourer of reason and restraint. At its base level, it heightened the user¡¯s perception, battle instincts, and reaction speed, allowing them to perform at levels beyond their natural limits. But the true terror came when Sen entered Battle Trance¡ªa state where the Overdrive effect doubled every minute. Every fiber of his being became sharper. Every muscle, faster. Every instinct, deadlier. His strength, speed, durability, perception, battle senses and everything that would make a human doubles as well, and if left unchecked would reach a terrifying level of strength. But there was a price. Primal Overdrive devoured essence at an exponential rate. The longer it remained active, the heavier the toll. At its peak, it could push the user¡¯s body to inhuman levels of endurance, allowing them to ignore injuries, to shrug off pain¡ªbut once that point was reached, there were only two outcomes: The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Total essence depletion¡ªor complete loss of control. And right now, Sen was teetering on the edge of both. ¡°You idiots¡­ don¡¯t get in my way,¡± Sen whispered, his voice laced with static as his aura crackled. Varek cursed. ¡°Vahn, throw him a potion¡ªnow.¡± Vahn hesitated for half a second before hurling a vial through the air. Sen snatched it mid-flight, crushing the glass between his teeth as he chugged its contents, the mana elixir flooding his system. Then he vanished. The cavern shook as a shockwave followed his movement. The next second, Sen reappeared under the Wyvern, his axe already swinging. The impact was catastrophic. CRACK! The Wyvern¡¯s head snapped back, the sheer force sending ripples through its massive frame. A loud BOOM echoed as the entire beast was lifted off the ground, its talons scraping against the cavern floor as it struggled to stabilize itself. ¡°Hah¡ª¡± Sen exhaled, twisting midair. He spun the axe in his grip and brought it down again¡ªthis time, straight into the beast¡¯s wing joint. A sickening tear filled the cave as part of its wing was severed. The Wyvern screamed in agony. ¡°Don¡¯t slow down now!¡± Varek shouted, gripping his whip flinging it out to wrap around the Wyvern¡¯s foot pulling it back to lose its balance. Sen didn¡¯t need the encouragement. He was already moving. A surge of lightning burst from his feet, propelling him like a streak of blue death. His axe collided with the Wyvern¡¯s scales, each hit sending thunderous ripples through its body. Every strike was heavier, faster, fueled by the insatiable hunger of his Overdrive. The Wyvern¡¯s tail lashed out in desperation¡ª Vahn intercepted. A massive water barrier surged into existence, dulling the impact just enough for Varek to lash out with his whip, the hooks digging into the Wyvern¡¯s flesh and anchoring it down. ¡°Finish it!¡± Vahn roared. Sen roared back, lightning crackling around him. His pupils were narrowed to slits, his expression borderline predatory. With a final burst of essence, he shot upward¡ªhigh above the Wyvern¡¯s head. The strength of his aura already stronger than the peak rank 2 disaster clearly bordering a rank 3. His aura filled the cave causing the disaster to freeze leaving it open of a fatal strike. For a moment, he hovered. Then, with a wild grin, he flipped the axe upside down, letting the weight of it guide him as he plummeted like a meteor. CRACK! The axe sank into the Wyvern¡¯s skull, splitting through its armored hide and lodging deep into its brain. The monster spasmed violently¡ªits roars turning to choked gurgles. The cavern trembled as its massive frame began to collapse. Sen landed, his breath ragged. His arms trembled, his knees threatening to give way. His aura flickered¡ªerratic, unstable. His body was failing, the Overdrive consuming more than he could replenish. And yet, he still smiled. ¡°We¡­ won,¡± he whispered, his grip on his axe loosening. Varek rushed forward, supporting his weight before he could crumple completely. ¡°Idiot. You nearly killed yourself.¡± ¡°Hah. Worth it.¡± Sen chuckled, but it was weak. His body was shaking violently, the aftermath of Overdrive taking its toll. Vahn let out a breath of relief. ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s collect the¡ª¡± Then he stopped. The air shifted. Varek felt his stomach drop. A sickening gurgle escaped the Wyvern¡¯s corpse. Something was wrong. From the gaping wound in its skull, a black, viscous substance began to seep out. It oozed like a living thing, writhing unnaturally, as though tasting the air. Varek¡¯s mouth went dry. ¡°¡­Guys?¡± Sen, barely able to stand, felt it first. The hair on the back of his neck rose. Something ancient stirred in the darkness. And for the first time since they entered the dungeon¡ª Sen felt fear. The Weight of Guilt The cave trembled with the force of a growing catastrophe. The black cloud oozing from the Wyvern¡¯s corpse writhed unnaturally, its form shifting, expanding as if something ancient and malevolent was awakening. It slithered along the rocky ground like a living shadow, corroding everything in its path. Sen''s body, still battered and weakened, shivered involuntarily as he stared at the festering darkness. His instincts screamed at him¡ªthis was wrong. This was something beyond any of them. "Sen¡­ what the hell is that?" Vahn''s voice was strained, his hands trembling as he instinctively took a step back. His water essence, so reliable in battle, felt utterly useless in the face of this unknown force. "Could this be its berserk state?" Varek asked, his breathing heavy, exhaustion evident in every fiber of his being. He leaned on Sen¡¯s shoulder for support, but his grip faltered against the sweat and blood staining their uniforms. Sen forced himself to stand straighter, gripping his axe with unsteady hands. The weight of his weapon felt foreign now, the once-trusted steel humming weakly as if sensing the dread looming before them. His essence reserves were nearly depleted, his body screaming for rest, but his mind remained sharp. ¡°No¡­ it¡¯s not,¡± he muttered, eyes narrowing. "A disaster can''t enter berserk mode after death. Its core would have to be intact, and I made damn sure to smash its skull to pieces." The certainty in his voice did little to comfort the others. Varek swallowed hard. His body ached, his essence was drained, and his nerves were fraying at the edges. Every instinct screamed at him to retreat, to get out before it was too late. ¡°Then whatever it is¡­ we shouldn¡¯t be here. We need to leave, now.¡± He tried pulling Sen back, but the stubborn fighter didn¡¯t budge. "Come on, bro, now isn''t the time to be reckless!" Varek urged, his voice desperate. His hands trembled as he gestured toward the countless injuries littering Sen¡¯s body¡ªa swollen, bloodied eye, a dislocated ankle, deep cuts painting his arms and torso crimson. He wasn¡¯t just injured. He was barely standing. "I don¡¯t think you even have enough essence left to use Lightning Blitz again. Sen, please, let¡¯s go." But Sen didn¡¯t move. His gaze was locked on the disaster, his breath slow and measured. Then, he smiled¡ªa weak, tired smile that didn¡¯t reach his eyes. ¡°Look, I hear you,¡± he said, voice calm despite the chaos around them. ¡°But don¡¯t you feel it?¡± He pointed toward the swirling black mist now coiling around the carcass like a sentient being. ¡°This thing¡­ whatever it is, it has to be stopped. Its energy is climbing past Rank 3, and it¡¯s still growing.¡± Varek and Vahn fell silent, their eyes following the slow, crawling decay of the dungeon around them. ¡°The dungeon is destabilizing,¡± Sen continued. ¡°That black mist¡ªit¡¯s corroding the ground, the walls, everything it touches. The gate outside won¡¯t be able to contain it. A dungeon outbreak is coming, and if this thing gets loose¡­¡± He let the thought hang in the air, unspoken but understood. Vahn¡¯s fingers twitched, his usually confident stance faltering. ¡°So what? We just throw our lives away fighting it?¡± he snapped, shaking Sen¡¯s shoulder as if trying to rattle some sense into him. "Damn it, Sen! We¡¯re drained! If we push any harder, we¡¯ll be the ones who don¡¯t make it out!" Sen exhaled, his grip tightening around his axe. ¡°Our lives aren¡¯t worth more than the people out there.¡± The words sent a chill through Varek¡¯s spine. ¡°I don¡¯t know what this thing is,¡± Sen admitted. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s an experiment. Maybe it¡¯s Emberfall. Maybe it¡¯s something worse. But one thing is for sure¡ªwe¡¯re unlucky.¡± He let out a strained chuckle, shaking his head. ¡°Besides¡­ I thought you guys said you wanted to get stronger.¡± That was it. That was Sen. He wasn¡¯t the type to talk about heroism or sacrifice. He never lectured about duty or honor. He simply did¡ªand that made him all the more terrifying. Stolen novel; please report. Before Varek could argue, Sen shifted his stance, pulling essence from the very depths of his being. He activated his ability one last time. The dungeon rumbled. His aura, though weakened, surged again¡ªbut this time, something was different. The air around Sen cracked. His essence wasn¡¯t just flaring¡ªit was burning. ¡°Sen¡­ what are you doing?¡± Varek whispered, horror settling in. Humans had a failsafe¡ªa last resort, a final gambit that pushed beyond their limits. Cracking one¡¯s core. A desperate act that transformed the core itself into raw energy, temporarily elevating a fighter beyond their peak. The price? Certain death once the essence burned out. Varek felt sick. "Sen, stop!" "Sen, don¡¯t you dare¡ª!" Vahn reached for him, but a deafening ROAR shook the entire cavern, cutting him off. The mist was no longer just an ominous cloud. It was alive. The Wyvern¡ªor whatever monstrosity it had become¡ªwas evolving before their eyes. A single flap of its malformed wings sent shockwaves through the cave. Its scales darkened, the crimson glow in its dead eyes flickering back to life, twisted and malevolent. Sen took a single step forward. ¡°Varek.¡± His voice was calm, almost gentle. "We need an opening. Just one. I''ll handle the rest." Before Varek could react, Sen hit the whip from his hand and gripped it tightly moving forward towards battle. Varek stunned silence as the realization hit him. ¡°Wait, Sen¡ªyour axe¡ª¡± But as his fingers wrapped around the weapon¡¯s handle, something shifted. The axe darkened, its once-bright silver white hue turning black. Crimson veins spread across the metal like pulsing veins, and an unnatural heat surged through Varek¡¯s arm. His essence was being pulled into it. Sen smiled¡ªweak, but content. "From now on¡­ Dreadrend belongs to you." Then he turned, eyes locked on the nightmare before them. And he ran toward it. --- Back to the Present, The hospital room was silent. Denwen sat frozen in place, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. Across from him, Varek leaned back in his chair, his expression distant, hollow. A single tear traced down his cheek. Denwen¡¯s throat was dry. "I¡­ I can¡¯t believe you went through something like that." Varek let out a bitter chuckle. "Neither could I." The weight of his words sank deep. The guilt in his voice was unbearable. ¡°It was supposed to be my best birthday,¡± Varek murmured. ¡°Our first mission¡­ a fresh start¡­ maybe even a skill book as a reward.¡± He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. ¡°But none of that mattered. That day¡­ I lost everything.¡± Denwen remained quiet, listening. ¡°People told me it wasn¡¯t my fault,¡± Varek continued. ¡°That no one could¡¯ve expected an experimented disaster in a dungeon. Some called Sen a hero, said he saved lives.¡± His lips twisted into a bitter smile. ¡°He left me his weapon. His legacy. And every time I pick it up¡­ it feels like a curse.¡± Denwen swallowed hard. His chest ached¡ªnot from his wounds, but from the sheer weight of Varek¡¯s grief. ¡°Den,¡± Varek¡¯s voice softened, ¡°you have people you love¡ªNicole, Kara, Roy, Rachael. Be careful. Don¡¯t add more guilt to your heart.¡± Denwen looked away, staring out the window. Varek sighed, pulling out a phone. ¡°Here. Strength isn¡¯t bad, Den. But don¡¯t let it blind you.¡± Denwen hesitated, then took it. ¡°I know you love Xena¡¯s music. I got her new album loaded in.¡± (A/N: Xena sings like Enya or Aurora) A smile broke through Denwen¡¯s grief, small but real. As he placed the earpiece in, a familiar, soothing melody filled his ears. And for the first time in what felt like forever¡­ He let himself breathe. Varek watched on with a soft smile on his face as the door opened once again: ¡°Ah Mr. Hale you are already here¡± Dvalin voice resounded through the room as he walked in together with Vorden and Agrona. Varek stood up like a rocket as he was shocked. Actions and Consequences 1 The door swung open with a slight creak, the soft hum of hospital machinery filling the quiet space. Denwen barely had time to register the sudden shift in atmosphere before a booming, familiar voice shattered the stillness. ¡°Ah, Principal, it¡¯s a pleasure to have you here,¡± Varek greeted, standing up from his seat and offering a respectful nod. Stepping into the room was Dvalin, the ever-charismatic and formidable dwarven principal of the academy. His thick, braided silver beard swayed slightly as he moved, the heavy stomps of his boots making it clear that subtlety was not in his vocabulary. His crimson and gold-trimmed robe flared slightly as he approached, his sharp eyes twinkling with a mix of amusement and authority. ¡°Ah, Hale,¡± Dvalin grunted, reaching out to clap a surprisingly strong hand on Varek¡¯s shoulder, pulling him upright with ease. ¡°I¡¯m really sorry about what happened to your boy.¡± Varek let out a deep sigh, rubbing the back of his head. ¡°You know how kids are. We were all like this once, weren¡¯t we?¡± The dwarf¡¯s deep belly laugh rumbled through the room, shaking even the IV stand next to Denwen¡¯s bed. ¡°Hah! Aye, you sure were. But your boy? He¡¯s got a wild streak bigger than yours ever was.¡± Denwen, still curled under his hospital blanket, groaned internally. Great. More people to remind me how reckless I am. Dvalin turned slightly, motioning to the two figures behind him. ¡°Oh, right! Let me do proper introductions,¡± he said, stroking his beard. ¡°This here is Agrona, and this fine gentleman is Vorden. You should know Agrona already, and Vorden here is one of our top combat instructors¡ªcame in not long after you graduated.¡± Agrona, ever composed, gave a curt nod, adjusting her thin-rimmed glasses with a measured, practiced movement. She was tall and poised, her dark violet cloak hanging perfectly off her shoulders, her piercing gaze sharp even behind the lenses. Vorden, on the other hand, simply gave a lazy wave, his broad frame exuding a relaxed but dangerous air. His muscular arms crossed, as if he was already evaluating the troublemaker lying in bed. Dvalin beamed. ¡°These two here are your boy¡¯s masters.¡± There was a moment of silence as Varek turned slowly, his gaze shifting from Denwen¡ªwho immediately tried to shrink further into his blanket¡ªto Agrona and Vorden, then back to Denwen, then back to them. His lips twitched. His brows furrowed. He blinked once. Twice. ¡°¡­My boy?¡± Varek repeated, his voice laced with incredulity. Denwen gulped. Varek turned to Dvalin. ¡°My boy has two personal instructors?¡± Dvalin¡¯s smirk widened. ¡°Aye.¡± Varek crossed his arms. ¡°Two dedicated instructors?¡± ¡°Aye,¡± Dvalin nodded again. ¡°¡­For Denwen?¡± Denwen could practically feel the moment Varek processed that fact. ¡°Well,¡± Varek sighed dramatically, rubbing his temples. ¡°This is a surprise. I barely had an instructor until my third year, and this brat already has two?¡± His hand shot out to smack Denwen¡¯s leg under the blanket with just enough force to make his point. ¡°Ow! What was that for?!¡± Denwen hissed, emerging from his cocoon, glaring at him. Varek clicked his tongue. ¡°For being an overachiever.¡± Denwen scoffed. ¡°Oh, sure, nearly getting my ribs turned to powder means I¡¯m an overachiever.¡± Dvalin roared with laughter. ¡°Hah! Don¡¯t take it too personally, lad. Hale¡¯s just bitter. You see, back in the day, he and his friends trained under me. Are you saying that I¡¯m not better than these two combined?¡± The dwarf smirked, puffing out his chest. Vorden immediately ran a hand down his face, while Agrona simply adjusted her glasses again, the briefest twitch of discomfort visible in her otherwise stoic expression. Varek, to his credit, kept his mouth shut this time. ¡°I see he¡¯s doing fine,¡± Vorden said, stepping forward, his sharp eyes scanning Denwen. Denwen frowned. ¡°I literally just got out of a near-death situation, and you¡¯re acting like I should be up and training already.¡± Without missing a beat, Vorden reached forward and ripped the blanket off of him. Denwen yelped. ¡°Come on! Can¡¯t you see I¡¯m in no shape to be scolded?¡± Denwen protested, glaring up at the man towering over him. Vorden merely stuck a finger in his ear, looking unbothered as he flicked away imaginary dust. ¡°Hmm. Yeah, he¡¯s fine.¡± Agrona, arms folded, gave a slight nod of agreement. ¡°Mm. He¡¯s conscious and capable of talking back. He¡¯s fine.¡± Denwen slumped, defeated. ¡°I hate this place,¡± he muttered under his breath. Dvalin, hearing that, slapped Denwen on the back so hard the boy nearly fell off the bed. ¡°Hah! That¡¯s the spirit, lad!¡± The room burst into lighthearted laughter, even Agrona¡¯s lips twitching slightly. Denwen sighed deeply. This was going to be a long afternoon. --- The echoes of laughter still lingering in the air. The atmosphere in the hospital room had lightened considerably, but the moment Dvalin settled himself onto a stool, his expression shifted. The warmth in his eyes didn¡¯t disappear, but the weight behind them deepened, signaling that the lighthearted moments had come to an end. Vorden remained standing by the window, arms crossed as he gazed outside, his reflection barely visible against the glass. Agrona, ever composed, sat elegantly on the far end of the bed, her posture straight, hands neatly folded on her lap. Varek leaned back in his chair, arms resting on his knees, but there was a tension in his shoulders that hadn¡¯t been there before. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Denwen, however, lay reclined against his pillows, his body still aching, though the pain was now a dull throb rather than searing agony. He could feel the weight of the conversation before it even began. Dvalin exhaled, rubbing his knee absentmindedly before leaning forward. ¡°I¡¯m glad to see you¡¯ve recovered to this extent, lad. When I first heard a student from my academy was involved in this whole fiasco, I wasn¡¯t exactly shocked. But when I found out what really happened¡ªand more importantly, who was involved¡ª¡± his sharp gaze landed on Denwen, ¡°¡ªwell, I had to come see you myself.¡± Denwen swallowed. The old dwarf¡¯s words weren¡¯t laced with disappointment, nor outright anger, but there was a certain expectation behind them, something heavier than mere scolding. Dvalin sighed, tapping a finger against his knee. ¡°You know, there are a lot of things the academy turns a blind eye to¡ªespecially when it comes to students who are willing to take rational risks for the sake of their cultivation.¡± There was a pause. Then Dvalin¡¯s gaze cut through the room, pinning Denwen like an insect under glass. Denwen stiffened. ¡°Wait¡­¡± His voice came out uncertain. ¡°You knew?¡± He turned to look at Agrona with a questioning look, he saw her push her glasses up the bridge of her nose with a slight nod. Denwen¡¯s heart dropped into his stomach. The entire time? Vorden snorted, shaking his head. ¡°Of course, we knew, kid. Do you really think any of you are skilled enough to sneak out of the academy unnoticed?¡± His voice carried an amused edge, but there was also a hint of condescension, as if he was genuinely disappointed in Denwen¡¯s underestimation of the system. ¡°That¡¯s just na?ve.¡± Denwen turned to Varek, eyes pleading for some sort of validation, some indication that this wasn¡¯t true¡ªbut Varek merely shook his head, confirming what he had feared most. Dvalin let out a low chuckle. ¡°Listen, lad. The academy expects students to push their limits, to seek out opportunities to grow. Hell, half the time, we encourage it in ways you lot don¡¯t even realize. But do you honestly believe we¡¯d let students run off into the unknown without keeping tabs on them?¡± He leaned back, crossing his thick arms over his chest. ¡°Or did you think the principal of one of the top academies on this continent doesn¡¯t know how to keep an eye on his own backyard?¡± Denwen¡¯s jaw clenched. He felt like a fool. ¡°The truth is, kid,¡± Dvalin continued, stroking his beard, ¡°the academy will even help students in their little¡­ let¡¯s call them ¡®extracurricular¡¯ escapades, as long as their reasons are justified and their pursuits aren¡¯t outright suicidal.¡± Denwen blinked. ¡°You help them?¡± Dvalin¡¯s smirk widened. ¡°Aye.¡± He wasn¡¯t sure if that made things better or worse. Denwen¡¯s mind reeled. All that planning. All that secrecy. He had convinced himself he was operating under the radar, that his grand plan to sneak out, take on missions, and grow stronger in secret had been foolproof. He thought he had outsmarted the system, that only Roy and a few close allies had known. But the truth? His entire plan was as transparent as a glass window during daylight. His stomach sank further when Dvalin¡¯s next words hit. ¡°And did you really think that Roy could cover for you properly?¡± Denwen¡¯s breath hitched. Dvalin let out a deep, belly-shaking laugh. ¡°Hah! Lad, your friend can¡¯t even come up with a proper excuse for himself. You actually thought he could keep your secret? That boy wouldn¡¯t last two minutes under real questioning.¡± Agrona let out a short, amused exhale, while Vorden openly smirked. Denwen covered his face with his hands. His so-called genius plan had been nothing more than a poorly staged act, entertaining at best, completely see-through at worst. His whole rebellious journey for strength? Nothing more than an open secret the academy had let him have. ¡°You¡¯re telling me,¡± Denwen groaned, his voice muffled by his hands, ¡°that I¡¯ve been running around in circles thinking I was some underground genius¡ª¡± ¡°Oh no, lad,¡± Dvalin interrupted, his laughter shaking the bedframe. ¡°You were running around in circles with a giant neon sign over your head.¡± Denwen let out a strangled noise of frustration. Varek sighed, shaking his head. ¡°This is just embarrassing.¡± Vorden shrugged. ¡°It was entertaining, at least.¡± Agrona adjusted her glasses again. ¡°It was inevitable.¡± Denwen slumped, defeated. He had never felt so thoroughly humiliated in his life. After a few beats of silence, Dvalin¡¯s laughter finally died down, and his expression turned slightly more serious. ¡°Jokes aside, lad,¡± he said, leaning forward, ¡°don¡¯t take this the wrong way. You had the right idea¡ªpushing yourself, taking risks. But the truth is, we were always watching, just in case you crossed a line you couldn¡¯t come back from.¡± Denwen slowly uncovered his face, still feeling the weight of his bruised pride. ¡°¡­So, what now?¡± ¡°Now, you are in quite the situation, that is why all three of us here had to come tell you ourselves¡± he responded staring at Denwen as though he could read his soul. Actions and Consequences 2 The air in the room turned heavy, thick with an unspoken tension as Varek sat up straighter, his instincts kicking in at Dvalin¡¯s ominous words. His brows furrowed as he studied the principal¡¯s face, searching for any sign that this was just another lesson wrapped in one of the dwarf¡¯s usual stories. But there was none of that. Dvalin, for all his jovial demeanor, was a man who knew when to be serious. And right now, his expression was carved from stone, his sharp eyes carrying the weight of something far more troubling than a mere disciplinary matter. ¡°Principal, what do you mean by ¡®situation¡¯?¡± Varek asked, his voice firm, laced with the kind of concern that came only from someone who had lived through more than his fair share of bitter realities. Dvalin let out a long, slow exhale, rubbing his thick-knuckled fingers along the braided strands of his silver beard. ¡°Hmmm, your boy isn¡¯t the first to try having a double identity¡ªbeing both a hunter and a student. There¡¯ve been plenty before him, some successful, others¡­ well, not so lucky.¡± He paused, letting the weight of his next words settle before delivering them. ¡°But the problem isn¡¯t just that.¡± Denwen felt a slow chill creep up his spine. His fingers curled slightly against the hospital sheets, the distant pain of his wounds overshadowed by the gnawing anxiety clawing its way into his chest. Dvalin¡¯s eyes flickered toward him, his voice dropping to a grave tone. ¡°Emberfall has been making a lot of moves recently on this continent. There¡¯ve been multiple reports, multiple sightings. And if our intel is right, then we may very well be their next target.¡± The room went completely still. A thick silence stretched between them, the kind that suffocated, the kind that made the blood in one¡¯s veins turn cold. ¡°You all know how Emberfall operates.¡± Dvalin¡¯s voice was grim, a stark contrast to his usual gruff warmth. ¡°Wherever they appear, they leave nothing behind but ash and ruin. No survivors, no mercy. You¡¯ve heard about the fall of Flendon Town.¡± Varek visibly tensed. Of course, he had heard of Flendon. A town with thousands of people recently wiped off the map in a single night. There were whispers of what had happened, rumors too terrifying to confirm. Dvalin¡¯s gaze then flicked to Denwen. ¡°Even the village from your last dungeon outbreak¡­¡± His words carried weight, heavy and suffocating. ¡°It¡¯s suspected that Emberfall was behind it.¡± Denwen¡¯s breath hitched. The images of that day surged back to him¡ªthe chaos, the screams, the devastation. His hands clenched around the sheets. ¡°¡­So what are you saying?¡± Varek finally spoke, his voice low and steady, but there was a storm brewing beneath his words. ¡°That there¡¯s some sort of connection between Denwen and Emberfall?¡± His eyes darkened with disbelief, his posture shifting as if preparing to defend Denwen with his very life. ¡°I won¡¯t stand for that,¡± Varek continued, his voice firm. ¡°I swear on my honor as a warrior, on my very life¡ªDenwen has nothing to do with those bastards.¡± Dvalin raised a hand to stop him. ¡°Hale, I never said I believed it,¡± he said simply, his expression unreadable. ¡°But the law enforcement agencies¡­ well, they don¡¯t operate on belief. They operate on facts. And the facts, unfortunately, don¡¯t look too good for the boy.¡± Denwen¡¯s stomach twisted painfully. Dvalin continued, his voice steady, but there was a sharpness to it. ¡°Think about it. He was the only survivor of a dungeon that collapsed in a way it shouldn¡¯t have. The readings before the collapse? They weren¡¯t normal. It was like the gate was trying to break out.¡± His eyes bore into Denwen. ¡°And when he came out? He was covered in wounds¡ªwounds that, by all accounts, match the weapons of his own teammates.¡± Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Denwen stiffened, his mind racing. No¡­ it¡¯s not like that¡­ He wanted to argue, to shout that it wasn¡¯t what they thought, that he had barely escaped with his life. But how could he explain? How could he put into words what had happened in that forsaken place? The cursed game, the queen¡¯s eerie smile, the terror of watching his teammates die, one by one, knowing he was powerless to stop it? Dvalin sighed. ¡°The families of the deceased¡­ they want someone to blame.¡± The words hit like a sledgehammer. ¡°They¡¯re calling for his head,¡± Dvalin said bluntly. ¡°And right now, the enforcement agencies are leaning in their favor. As far as they¡¯re concerned, Denwen is a prime suspect.¡± Denwen¡¯s heart pounded in his chest, a sick feeling curling in his gut. ¡°I swear¡ªI have nothing to do with Emberfall,¡± Denwen finally managed, his voice hoarse. A gentle pressure on his leg made him look up. Agrona had placed a hand there, a familiar softness from her usual demeanor. ¡°We believe you,¡± she said simply, her voice calm and measured. ¡°You don¡¯t need to prove anything to us. But you do need to tell us everything that happened in that dungeon.¡± Denwen¡¯s body felt unbearably heavy. His chest ached with something deeper than just physical wounds. He didn¡¯t want to relive it. Didn¡¯t want to say the words. But if he didn¡¯t¡­ He swallowed hard, then slowly, painfully, began to speak. He told them about the Bladed Tigers. About the boss they had fought, and how easily it had fallen¡ªtoo easily. He recounted how their attempts to collect cores had failed, how the bodies had turned to dust in a way that defied nature. Then he spoke of the second dungeon. The statues. The chess game of death. He left out some things¡ªthe queen¡¯s cryptic words, the unsettling feeling of being known by something beyond human comprehension. And finally, he spoke of the moment he had barely escaped, the ring Roy had given him saving his life at the last possible second. By the time he finished, the room was silent. Varek moved first, pulling him into a firm, steadying embrace. Agrona, deep in thought, pushed her glasses higher, her expression unreadable as she processed everything he had said. Vorden let out a slow exhale, scratching his bald head. ¡°Damn. That¡¯s rough, kid.¡± Dvalin, for his part, looked more troubled than before. ¡°This is worse than I thought.¡± He stood up, his voice carrying the weight of finality. ¡°Tell the agencies exactly what you told us. Don¡¯t embellish, don¡¯t leave anything out¡ªexcept maybe the part about that queen,¡± he muttered. ¡°Emphasize the ring, that¡¯s your only solid alibi. They have ways to check if someone¡¯s lying, so don¡¯t try to overcompensate.¡± Denwen barely had time to process before Dvalin added, ¡°And you¡¯re suspended for now.¡± The words slammed into him like a blow. ¡°When the situation is better, we would inform you to return.¡± Dvalin¡¯s voice was authoritative, leaving no room for argument. ¡°Let¡¯s give time for things to settle.¡± Denwen barely nodded. He wasn¡¯t sure if he should feel relieved or devastated. Agrona stood as well, her voice carrying final words: ¡°That is the best possible outcome, in worse case scenarios, you would have been expelled. Be thankful you have Vorden and I by yourside¡± Vorden cracked his knuckles, giving him a solid pat on the shoulder. ¡°Take this time to train. If you fall behind, you¡¯ll regret it¡± And just like that, they were gone. Leaving Denwen alone with Varek, both of them staring into the heavy silence of the room, uncertain of what lay ahead. A Ride Through Unspoken Words The evening air was crisp, carrying the scent of the city''s shifting seasons as Roy made his way toward the hover bus stop. The gentle hum of neon signs flickered to life as dusk settled, bathing the streets in an ethereal glow. His steps were casual, his hands buried deep in his pockets, but his mind was far from at ease. It had been days since Denwen¡¯s discharge from the hospital, yet Roy hadn''t been able to visit him. The house arrest placed on him by the enforcement agency had made that impossible. His friend was now entangled in an investigation, a suspect in a situation that Roy still struggled to fully comprehend. ¡°I thought of a lot of things,¡± Roy muttered under his breath, running a hand through his blonde hair as he walked, ¡°but I never imagined this year would be the one where you¡¯d be branded a criminal, Den.¡± A heavy sigh left his lips. It felt¡­ wrong. Not being able to see him, to joke around, to just sit in the same room like old times. Even riding his hover bike had lost its appeal. It was wrapped around his wrist now, just a sleek band¡ªits compact form a testament to how little he felt like using it. The bus stop was just ahead, a small crowd already gathered. A mother struggling to keep her two children under control caught his eye¡ªa little girl darting around excitedly while the exhausted woman juggled a crying infant in her arms. Roy bent down, his signature smirk creeping onto his lips as he called the little girl over. ¡°Hey, come here for a second.¡± She hesitated, glancing at her mother for approval. The woman, clearly overwhelmed, gave a tired but cautious nod. Roy pulled a lollipop from his pocket, twirling it between his fingers. ¡°This one¡¯s strawberry-flavored. You like strawberries?¡± The girl¡¯s eyes lit up, but her small hands remained clenched at her sides, clearly torn between desire and the silent authority of her mother¡¯s gaze. Roy smiled knowingly. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you what. If you promise to stop running around and help your mom take care of your little brother, you can have it. Sounds like a fair deal?¡± The girl hesitated for just a moment longer before nodding vigorously. ¡°Good girl,¡± Roy chuckled, handing her the candy. ¡°Now, don¡¯t forget¡ªmake sure to tell your mom you¡¯re sorry for causing trouble, okay?¡± She nodded again, gripping the lollipop tightly before turning to her mother with wide, apologetic eyes. ¡°Mommy, I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯ll be good now.¡± The woman¡¯s stern features softened as she pulled her daughter into a gentle hug. ¡°Thank you, sweetheart.¡± Roy watched them with a quiet expression, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. It was a simple scene¡ªone that most wouldn¡¯t think twice about. But for Roy, it meant something more. Before he could dwell on the thought, the low hum of the approaching hover bus broke through his reverie. The sleek, streamlined vehicle came to a gentle stop in front of the waiting passengers, its doors sliding open with a faint hiss. Just as Roy was about to step in, a voice rang out from the distance. ¡°WAIT! WAIT FOR ME!¡± His head snapped toward the source of the sound. A familiar figure was sprinting toward the bus at full speed, one arm clutching a load of groceries while the other flailed wildly in the air. ¡°Kara?¡± Roy blinked in disbelief. Her face was twisted in panic, her breath coming out in ragged gasps as she tried to close the distance. The bus driver, growing impatient, honked twice before glaring at Roy. ¡°You getting in or not?¡± Roy hesitated for a second, glancing between Kara and the bus. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. She wasn¡¯t going to make it in time. Sorry about this, he thought. Without a word, he stepped onto the bus¡ªbut as the doors began to slide shut, he casually pressed his foot against the platform and channeled just the slightest bit of his essence. The bus lurched, its hover systems groaning under the sudden, invisible pressure. The vehicle, despite its state-of-the-art design, couldn¡¯t compete with the sheer strength of a Rank 2 warrior. The driver¡¯s furious protests were drowned out by Kara¡¯s desperate gasps as she finally reached the doors, stumbling inside with a huff. She barely managed to keep her groceries from spilling everywhere as she clutched her knees, trying to catch her breath. ¡°Gods¡­ I swear¡­ you two are gonna kill me one of these days¡­¡± Roy smirked, stepping aside to let her pass. ¡°You¡¯re welcome.¡± She shot him a glare between deep breaths. ¡°I should let you know,¡± the driver grumbled, finally regaining control of the bus, ¡°next time you try something like that, I¡¯m calling the damn enforcers.¡± Roy only chuckled, waving him off. As they moved toward the back of the bus, the little girl from earlier turned in her seat, flashing Roy a wide, toothy grin. She held up the lollipop as if showing off a treasure, waving at him enthusiastically. Roy waved back with an amused chuckle. Kara, watching the exchange, raised a brow. ¡°I see someone is good with kids.¡± Roy leaned back in his seat, exuding his usual air of confidence. ¡°What can I say? Being this handsome, I have a natural talent for charming both kids and the ladies.¡± Kara gave him a long, unreadable stare before deadpanning, ¡°You do realize that girl is also a ¡®lady,¡¯ right?¡± Roy¡¯s smug expression faltered. ¡°Wait. No¡ªhold on. That¡¯s not what I¡ª¡± ¡°Should I call the enforcers after all?¡± Kara asked, leaning away from him dramatically. ¡°HEY! Don¡¯t say it like that!¡± Roy groaned, running a hand down his face as she chuckled at his misery. Silence settled between them after that, the rhythmic hum of the hover bus filling the space as the city lights blurred past. Without a word, Kara pulled out a pair of earbuds, tossing one to him. Roy caught it instinctively, raising a brow as he placed it in his ear. A soft melody filled his senses. His eyes widened slightly. ¡°Wait¡­ this is Xena.¡± Kara nodded, her expression softening. ¡°It¡¯s her latest song. Won the Empire Awards last night for best track of the year and the entire music category. I already sent it to Den.¡± Roy smiled, leaning back. ¡°He¡¯ll appreciate that. Not that he can listen to it right now, though.¡± A shadow passed over Kara¡¯s face. ¡°¡­You know, sometimes, I wonder what¡¯s going on in that idiot¡¯s head. I wish I could just sit down and force him to explain it all.¡± Roy sighed. ¡°Kara¡ª¡± ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± she interrupted. ¡°I know you knew. You covered for him every single time.¡± Roy winced, rubbing the back of his neck. ¡°I didn¡¯t think it¡¯d go this far.¡± ¡°I should be furious at both of you,¡± she muttered, staring out the window. ¡°¡­But I can¡¯t.¡± Her fingers curled slightly in her lap. ¡°Thanks, by the way. For the artifact. I heard it¡¯s the only reason he survived.¡± Roy exhaled slowly. ¡°I had a feeling something would happen. That¡¯s why I asked my uncle Garrick to get something he could use¡­ just in case.¡± The bus continued forward, its passengers oblivious to the silent weight that had settled over the two. And as the city lights shimmered outside, Roy found himself gripping the earbud just a little tighter. Brewing Darkness The city was alive with the soft hum of evening activity as the hover bus glided smoothly down the streets, its interior illuminated by warm golden lights. Roy leaned back against his seat, arms lazily stretched across the headrest, occasionally stealing glances at the streets passing by. Despite his usual confidence, there was something distant about his expression. His mind drifted, tangled in thoughts of Denwen, of the investigation, of everything that had happened in just a short amount of time. But he shook it off with a sigh, turning his attention to Kara beside him. She was sitting comfortably, her arms folded as she gazed out the window, the city lights reflecting in her deep brown eyes. Roy could tell she had something on her mind, but instead of asking directly, he opted for a more casual approach. ¡°You know,¡± he started, smirking as he gestured toward the street outside. ¡°That food stall right there? Has the best skewers I¡¯ve ever had. Not even joking.¡± Kara followed his gaze, then rolled her eyes. ¡°Oh please, you¡¯d say that about any place that sells meat on a stick.¡± Roy placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. ¡°I¡¯ll have you know, I have exquisite taste. Only the finest skewers deserve my praise.¡± Kara shook her head with a chuckle before the mood shifted ever so slightly. ¡°I¡¯ll be heading back to the academy tomorrow,¡± she said, her tone more serious now. Roy blinked in surprise. ¡°Wait, already? We still have a whole week left of break. What¡¯s the rush?¡± She shrugged, adjusting the bags of groceries on her lap. ¡°I need extra training sessions. My instructor said if I don¡¯t put in the work, she might drop me.¡± Roy whistled. ¡°Yikes. Sounds intense.¡± Kara nodded. ¡°Healing magic isn¡¯t just about waving your hands and making wounds disappear. There¡¯s precision, control¡­ and a lot of responsibility. I need to exceed her expectations if I want to make it.¡± She held up one of the bags. ¡°I even bought fish to practice on at home.¡± Roy frowned, staring at the bag. ¡°Wait¡­ I thought that was for dinner or something.¡± Kara smirked. ¡°Who says it isn¡¯t?¡± His eyes widened in mock horror. ¡°Hold up. So you¡¯re telling me¡­ you¡¯re gonna heal them, then eat them? That¡¯s just messed up. No respect for life at all.¡± Kara quirked a brow. ¡°Oh, now you care about fish? Aren¡¯t you the same guy who downs fish sticks and grilled salmon like it¡¯s nothing?¡± Roy leaned back with a dramatic sigh. ¡°It¡¯s different. What¡¯s dead is dead. What¡¯s alive is alive. I respect the natural order.¡± Kara just stared at him before shaking her head. ¡°I swear, you say the dumbest things sometimes.¡± ¡°Hey, that¡¯s uncalled for.¡± She ignored him. ¡°Have you heard? The end-of-semester evaluation is going to be a dungeon test.¡± Roy shrugged. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s pretty standard. Why? You scared?¡± Kara shot him a sharp glare. ¡°Of course not. It¡¯s just¡­ our first real dungeon, you know? Anything could happen.¡± She didn¡¯t say it out loud, but she was clearly thinking of a certain someone who had the worst luck when it came to dungeons. Roy chuckled. ¡°Relax, not everyone has Den¡¯s death wish. This dungeon is academy-owned, explored every year. It¡¯s literally a Rank 1 Bunny Dungeon. What could possibly go wrong?¡± Kara¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Oh no¡ª¡± ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°You idiot! You just jinxed it!¡± Roy blinked. ¡°What?¡± She groaned. ¡°Haven¡¯t you ever seen a movie? Whenever someone says ¡®what could possibly go wrong,¡¯ everything goes wrong!¡± Roy gave her a deadpan look. ¡°Kara. This is real life. That only happens in dumb stories in movies or novels, not in the real world.¡± The hover bus began slowing as they approached the next stop. ¡°Well, this is my stop.¡± Kara stood, gathering her bags. ¡°Help me carry these.¡± The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Roy rolled his eyes but complied, grabbing one of the heavier bags. ¡°So, where exactly are you headed?¡± She adjusted her grip. ¡°Home. Gotta prep for training. How about you, where are you headed¡± ¡°Oh I am going home as well but I would stop by my mom¡¯s favorite florist store to pick up something for her¡± As she stepped off, she turned back, smirking. ¡°You know, you might actually be good with the ladies. Who would¡¯ve thought?¡± Roy chuckled. ¡°Of course. I¡¯m amazing.¡± Kara just shook her head. ¡°Take care, Roy. See you back at the academy.¡± They exchanged waves before the doors shut behind her, and the hover bus took off again, leaving Roy with a small smile on his face. ________________________________________ Back in Doitand, The air was thick with the stench of death. Blood pooled across the floors, mixing with the scent of burning flesh and the lingering essence of dissipating mana. Corpses¡ªboth human and monstrous¡ªwere strewn across the ground in gruesome displays of violence. Some had been torn apart, others burned beyond recognition. But what stood out the most were the bodies that shouldn¡¯t have belonged here¡ªsmall, misshapen figures that resembled children, yet were anything but human. April walked carefully, stepping over a severed limb as she made her way toward the cell area. The flickering red emergency lights cast eerie shadows against the walls, making the already grotesque scene feel even more nightmarish. Her eyes narrowed as she reached the cells. Inside, children huddled together, their eyes sunken, their bodies frail from starvation and neglect. They shrank back as she approached, their instincts screaming at them to stay away from the woman stepping into their prison. April raised her hands slowly, softening her tone. ¡°Hey¡­ it¡¯s okay. I¡¯m here to help you.¡± They didn¡¯t move. She forced a small smile. ¡°See? Aunty is here to save you.¡± The lock on the cell clicked open, but none of the children moved, their bodies trembling too violently to process the idea of freedom. Her hands curled into fists. These bastards¡­ What kind of monsters did this to kids? She reached for her earpiece, her voice low but firm. ¡°Boss, I¡¯ve got them.¡± Elsewhere in the facility, Garrick stood over a man barely clinging to life. Corbin adjusted his glasses, glancing at the scene with a passive expression. ¡°I¡¯ll rendezvous with the others.¡± Garrick gave a slight nod but kept his focus on the trembling man before him. ¡°Please,¡± the man whimpered, dragging his broken body backward, leaving a trail of blood in his wake. ¡°You don¡¯t know what you¡¯re getting involved in. Emberfall forced us¡ª¡± Garrick took a slow, deliberate step forward. ¡°Six locations.¡± His voice was low, dangerous. ¡°Six fucking locations.¡± The man¡¯s breath hitched. ¡°I-I swear, we didn¡¯t have a choice! They¡ªthey own this place!¡± Garrick¡¯s aura began to leak out, suffocating the room with raw pressure. ¡°Everyone has a choice.¡± The man choked on his words. ¡°You say Emberfall is too strong,¡± Garrick continued, stepping closer, ¡°that they have too many people, too much power.¡± The man¡¯s eyes widened in sheer terror. ¡°I heard that t-they have an Ashborne in charge¡­! A Rank 4¡­! You can¡¯t fight that!¡± Garrick didn¡¯t stop. His spear materialized in his hand, its dark steel glinting under the flickering lights. ¡°You hear rumors,¡± he said. ¡°But I don¡¯t care. No matter their numbers, their strength¡ªeven if there is an Ashborne¡ª¡± his eyes burned with unrelenting fury, ¡°¡ªI will bring them to their knees.¡± The man whimpered. A single motion. The sound of steel cutting flesh. A clean, vertical slice. The man never even screamed. Garrick stood over the two halves of the corpse, his grip tightening on his spear. This wasn¡¯t over. Not even close. A House of Silence The hover bus glided smoothly through the cityscape, its quiet hum blending into the evening¡¯s gentle bustle. Roy sat near the window, arms crossed, golden eyes lost in thought as he watched the world outside. The towering skyscrapers reflected the soft glow of streetlights, the world outside moving at its own pace, indifferent to the weight on his chest. As the vehicle neared his stop, he let out a small sigh and rolled his shoulders. His home wasn¡¯t far now. A place of grandeur, wealth, and luxury. A place that never quite felt like home. The bus came to a halt, and Roy stepped off, the scent of fresh earth and blooming flowers meeting him immediately. The florist shop was just a few steps away, tucked between two high-end boutiques, its wooden sign gently swaying in the night breeze. A small bell chimed as he entered. ¡°Ah, young master Roy,¡± an elderly florist greeted him warmly, her wrinkled hands carefully trimming the petals of a delicate white lily. ¡°Back again for your mother?¡± Roy nodded with a faint smile. ¡°As always, Mrs. Fenwick.¡± She sighed fondly, walking to a display filled with golden-hued flowers. ¡°Eleven years, and you still pick the same ones.¡± ¡°She liked them the most,¡± Roy murmured, reaching out to take the bouquet. ¡°Sun¡¯s Embrace.¡± ¡°Because she said they reminded her of you.¡± The florist smiled knowingly before carefully wrapping the flowers in delicate paper. ¡°You¡¯re a good son, Roy.¡± His smile wavered slightly, but he quickly recovered. ¡°She deserves it.¡± With the bouquet in hand, he paid the florist and stepped back out into the cool night, beginning the familiar path home. ________________________________________ The mansion loomed in the distance, a sprawling estate of intricate architecture and towering spires. Grandiose fountains adorned the front, their waters shimmering under the moonlight. Manicured gardens stretched across acres, with trimmed hedges forming elaborate patterns that only those from the sky could fully appreciate. The wrought-iron gates stood tall, their golden crest reflecting his family¡¯s legacy. A legacy he barely acknowledged. As he approached, a familiar figure stood at the entrance, waiting with a poised, composed stance. ¡°Welcome home, young master.¡± Gerald, the family steward, bowed slightly, his crisp black suit impeccably tailored. His silvered hair was neatly combed back, and his sharp green eyes held warmth that contrasted the otherwise cold air of the estate. Roy smirked. ¡°Gerald, you¡¯re still standing outside like a loyal hound. Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯ve been waiting here all day.¡± Gerald let out a soft chuckle. ¡°It¡¯s hardly waiting when I know you¡¯ll be back at this hour. Punctual as always.¡± Roy raised the bouquet slightly. ¡°Figured I¡¯d make my usual stop first.¡± Gerald nodded, his eyes softening. ¡°She¡¯ll appreciate it, as she always does.¡± The young noble walked past the gates, Gerald falling into step beside him. The path leading to the mansion was lined with glowing lanterns, their light casting long, wavering shadows on the cobblestone. ¡°How are things here?¡± Roy asked, his tone light but laced with genuine curiosity. ¡°The usual,¡± Gerald replied. ¡°Your father remains busy with his affairs. Your uncle, however, has embarked on yet another mission.¡± Roy grinned. ¡°What else is new? He probably left without telling anyone again.¡± ¡°Indeed,¡± Gerald chuckled. ¡°Though the guards are quite confident he¡¯ll return safely. The Duke, on the other hand, hasn¡¯t really left his office.¡± Roy scoffed. ¡°Of course, he hasn¡¯t.¡± The walk continued in comfortable silence, only interrupted by passing house staff who bowed politely as Roy greeted them with casual familiarity. Unlike his father, Roy never treated them as mere servants. He knew their names, their families, their habits. They were the only warmth this mansion had ever known. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Gerald stole a glance at the boy beside him. ¡°You should visit your uncle¡¯s study. He left a letter for you.¡± Roy raised a brow. ¡°Oh? And what exactly did he say?¡± The steward shook his head with amusement. ¡°You know him. Cryptic as always. Just said you¡¯d ¡®figure it out¡¯ once you read it.¡± Roy sighed. ¡°Of course, he did.¡± As they reached the grand entrance of the mansion, Gerald slowed his steps. ¡°I do wish¡­ the Duke and you had a better relationship.¡± His voice was careful, hesitant, like stepping on thin ice. ¡°You and Lord Garrick¡ªyour bond is strong, admirable. But your father¡ª¡± Roy¡¯s expression turned unreadable. ¡°Don¡¯t.¡± His voice was quiet, yet firm. Gerald sighed but said no more. He simply held open the door, allowing Roy to step into the lavish interior of his home. ________________________________________ The halls were vast, each step echoing against polished marble floors. Ornate chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, their crystal ornaments casting fragmented reflections across gilded walls. Despite the beauty, the estate felt empty. Servants moved efficiently but spoke little, their presence ghost-like in the expanse of the mansion. Roy barely noticed them as he walked toward a familiar hallway, his grip tightening slightly around the bouquet in his hands. At the very end of the corridor was a door. His mother¡¯s room. The air was cool inside, a faint scent of medicinal herbs lingering in the space. White curtains danced gently by the open balcony, allowing moonlight to filter through. And there, on the massive bed surrounded by soft silks and pristine sheets, lay a woman. Her golden hair spilled across the pillows like liquid sunlight. Her face was serene, untouched by time. She looked as though she were simply asleep, trapped in a dream she had never awakened from. For eleven years, she had remained like this. Unmoving. Silent. Roy¡¯s chest tightened as he approached, his fingers ghosting over the bed¡¯s edge. ¡°Hey, Mom,¡± he murmured, forcing a small smile as he placed the flowers in the vase beside her. ¡°I brought your favorites again.¡± She didn¡¯t respond, as always. He sat beside her, staring at her peaceful face, trying to remember the sound of her voice. It had faded over the years, becoming a whisper he could barely grasp. But he still remembered her touch. Her warmth. He placed his hand over hers, feeling the coolness of her skin beneath his fingertips. ¡°They say you collapsed when I was five,¡± he whispered. ¡°Just¡­ fell asleep one day and never woke up.¡± He swallowed, his throat tightening. ¡°I barely even remember you,¡± he admitted, his voice quieter. ¡°But I remember how safe I felt when you held me.¡± He exhaled, pulling his hand back. ¡°I¡¯ll stay a little longer today,¡± he said softly, leaning back into the chair beside her bed. ________________________________________ Much later, after the mansion had settled into a quiet lull, Roy found himself walking toward another part of the estate. His father¡¯s office. Each step felt heavier, the grand halls feeling colder the closer he got. His father was many things. A powerful Duke. A feared warrior. An unyielding noble. But never a father. Roy stopped just outside the large double doors, staring at the ornate carvings on the wood. His hands clenched into fists. With a slow breath, he lifted his hand. And knocked. A Father The heavy wooden doors groaned as Roy slowly pushed them open, his fingers tightening around the handle as if bracing himself for the inevitable. His father¡¯s office was just as he remembered¡ªimmaculate, structured, suffocatingly orderly. The dim lighting from the chandeliers cast long shadows over the rows of towering bookshelves, their spines neatly arranged like silent sentinels guarding ancient knowledge. At the far end of the room, behind an ornate mahogany desk, sat Lucien Clifford¡ªthe Duke, the war hero, the man who commanded absolute authority in every room he entered. But to Roy, he was just his father or so he had always hoped. And like always, his father didn¡¯t even bother to look up. The only sound in the room was the rhythmic scritch-scratching of a pen against paper. The atmosphere was thick with the scent of old paper and ink, blending with the faint smell of polished wood. Roy took a slow, steady breath before stepping forward. ¡°Uhm¡­ Dad. Good evening,¡± he greeted hesitantly. No response. Not even a glance in his direction. The pen continued its relentless movement, Lucien¡¯s focus unshaken, his posture rigid, his presence as daunting as ever. Roy wasn¡¯t surprised, nor was he particularly hurt. He had long learned not to expect warmth. But even so, a part of him¡ªa foolish, stubborn part¡ªstill wished for it. ¡°You know I went to see mom today as usual and her breathing changed a bit when I was around her, even though it was soft but I still felt like she could hear me¡± he said stopping by a particular book. The writing stopped for a bit making Roy smile and turn around thinking he had gotten his attention but the sound and sight of paper flipping over burst his bubble as Lucien still didn¡¯t give him any attention He took a few more steps into the room, his boots clicking softly against the marble floor. His gaze drifted upward, settling on the grand portraits lining the walls. The previous heads of the Clifford family stared down at him, their eyes cold, their expressions severe. Growing up, Roy had dreamed of one day being among them¡ªa legacy immortalized. That dream had long since withered. Roy¡¯s fingers brushed against the spines of the books lined up on the lower shelves, stopping by a familiar title. He hesitated, contemplating pulling it out, when Lucien¡¯s voice cut through the silence like a blade. ¡°Keep your hands to yourself, boy.¡± Roy froze. The words weren¡¯t loud, but they carried an unmistakable weight¡ªa quiet authority that crushed whatever fleeting hope he had harbored for this conversation. Slowly, he turned, his lips pressing into a thin line as he met his father¡¯s gaze for the first time. The air between them was stifling, heavy with unspoken words and buried disappointments. ¡°Really? That¡¯s all you care about?¡± Roy¡¯s voice trembled slightly, but he didn¡¯t back down. ¡°I walked in here, and you ignored me. I spoke about Mom, and you didn¡¯t even blink. But the second I touch a book¡ªsuddenly, I exist?¡± He laughed, but there was no humor in it. Lucien didn¡¯t respond. He simply watched him with an expression of quiet indifference, his eyes void of anything resembling fatherly warmth. Roy clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palm. He had tried so many times. For years, he had sought some form of acknowledgment, some sign that his father cared¡ªnot as a duke, not as a commander, but as a parent. ¡°Sometimes, I wonder if you ever loved Mom,¡± Roy said, his voice barely above a whisper. The words were a spark in a room full of dry kindling. Lucien¡¯s pen halted mid-stroke, a flicker of something¡ªsomething unrecognizable¡ªflashing across his otherwise impassive face. But just as quickly, it was gone, buried beneath layers of steel resolve. He slowly placed the pen down, his movements precise, controlled. ¡°You should be training, boy. Not wasting your time here with unimportant things and weak emotions.¡± Roy felt like the floor beneath him had vanished. Weak emotions. His mother¡ªthe woman who had loved them both unconditionally, who had given everything for their family, who had been lying in bed for over a decade without a single word¡ªwas an unimportant thing? ¡°But¡­ Mom isn¡¯t a waste of time,¡± he said, his voice cracking. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. Lucien¡¯s piercing gaze locked onto him, chilling and unmoving. ¡°She is not here. And she will not be for a very long time. Neither should you.¡± Roy swallowed, his throat dry. He wanted to argue, to shout, to demand why his father was like this¡ªwhy he was so damn cold. But the words lodged themselves in his throat like barbed wire. He forced himself to take a steady breath. ¡°Is that all you have to say, Dad?¡± Lucien leaned back slightly, lowering the pressure in the room as if the conversation had already drained whatever little patience he had. ¡°You know what you must do. Go back to your training. Do not become more of a disappointment than you already are.¡± That was it. That was all Roy needed to hear to understand that nothing would change. He turned toward the door, his fingers tightening around the handle. He hesitated, looking back one final time. ¡°I know what I have to do,¡± he murmured, his voice heavy with exhaustion. ¡°I just wish, for once, I could speak to a father and not a commander.¡± The door clicked shut behind him. Inside the office, Lucien remained seated, unmoving. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating. He spread his senses outwards for several meters going on to cover the entire pathway and building easily monitoring Roy ensuring he way out of close proximity. Slowly his fingers curled around the pen again, but his grip was too tight. A sudden snap echoed in the room as the pen shattered in his hand. His jaw clenched. His shoulders stiffened. ¡°¡­Not yet,¡± he whispered to himself, over and over, as if trying to suppress something threatening to claw its way to the surface. Then, a chime broke through the stillness, a holographic transmission flickering to life above his desk. A familiar voice filled the room. ¡°Hey, bro. How you doing?¡± Lucien¡¯s gaze sharpened as he immediately cut to business. ¡°What is the update on the mission in Doitand?¡± Garrick sighed dramatically from the other end of the call, running a hand through his messy blond hair. ¡°Wow. No ¡®how are you, Garrick?¡¯ No ¡®good to see you alive?¡¯ Straight to business, huh?¡± Lucien¡¯s tone remained firm. ¡°If you have nothing of value to report, end the transmission.¡± Garrick rolled his eyes. ¡°Alright, alright. Relax, you cold-hearted bastard.¡± His expression darkened slightly. ¡°Things here are worse than we thought. Emberfall has their claws deep in this town, and they¡¯re not done yet. We found multiple prison camps eight to be specific¡ªchildren, mostly. Starved. Some barely alive.¡± Lucien¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change, but the fingers resting on his desk curled slightly. Garrick continued. ¡°The enforcement agency here is completely compromised as it is barely existent at all. Each of the encampments we raided had peak Rank 2 warriors guarding them, along with a bunch of subordinates. But that¡¯s not the worst part.¡± There was a pause. ¡°Their experiments¡­ We don¡¯t have all the details yet, but we encountered something the warriors called Scions helping them¡ªdisasters that resemble twisted versions of children. Barely early Rank 1 in strength, but¡­¡± Garrick exhaled sharply. ¡°Lucien, they were children.¡± Lucien¡¯s grip tightened. ¡°They¡¯re using them,¡± he murmured. Garrick nodded grimly. ¡°Yeah. We have theories, but nothing concrete yet. And if that wasn¡¯t enough, we might have an Ashborne running the show here.¡± Lucien¡¯s eyes darkened at the mention of that name. ¡°Unconfirmed,¡± Garrick quickly added. ¡°But if it¡¯s true¡­ then Doitand is worse off than we thought.¡± Lucien was silent for a long moment. Then, his voice came, low and sharp. ¡°Remain low-key. I¡¯ll be sending reinforcements soon.¡± Garrick huffed. ¡°You don¡¯t trust me?¡± ¡°This isn¡¯t about trust. You are strong, but even an early Rank 4 could end you without effort. If this Ashborne theory proves true or worse if there is any Infernal present, I may have to come there myself.¡± Garrick snorted. ¡°Aye, aye, Captain.¡± He was about to cut the transmission when Lucien¡¯s voice stopped him. ¡°Be careful out there, brother.¡± Garrick paused, then grinned. ¡°Heh. You do care.¡± The transmission ended, and Lucien leaned back in his chair. For the first time in a long while, he looked¡­ tired. Break Over The air outside Crimson Academy was thick with excitement, a symphony of voices filling the sprawling campus as students reunited after their semester break. The warm golden light of the afternoon sun bathed the towering academy walls, its rays glinting off the polished stone pathways and the intricate golden trims of the school¡¯s signature crimson uniforms. Hover buses and personal essence-powered carriages lined the grand entrance, each arrival unloading eager students, their arms weighed down with luggage and their minds buzzing with anticipation for the semester ahead. The academy¡¯s main courtyard, typically a place of quiet study, had transformed into a bustling hub of activity. Laughter echoed as groups of students huddled together, excitedly exchanging stories about their break, their latest breakthroughs in cultivation, and gossip about new arrivals and departures in their dorm rooms. The scent of freshly cut grass mixed with the tantalizing aroma of the academy¡¯s dining hall, where staff had already begun preparations for the first official meal of the term. At the main gate, a tight-knit circle of students stood in animated conversation. ¡°I swear, my old man nearly had a heart attack when I told him I reached Mid Rank 1 over the break,¡± boasted a boy with messy brown hair, puffing out his chest with exaggerated pride. ¡°He kept saying, ¡®Taro, you need to slow down! Your essence core might crack!¡¯¡± ¡°Pfft, as if! My sister in Room A made it to Mid Rank 1, and now she won¡¯t stop lording it over me,¡± a girl with short blue hair groaned, adjusting her satchel. ¡°I swear, I have to at least be able to subconsciously channel my essence outside this semester, or she¡¯s never going to let me hear the end of it.¡± ¡°You guys are lucky,¡± another student chimed in with a defeated sigh. ¡°I barely scraped by on the End-of-Semester Evaluation. I nearly broke my core trying to cultivate too fast. Good thing I¡¯m in Room C, our only real requirement last semester was learning to properly channel essence through our seven points.¡± More students poured through the academy gates, some dragging massive essence-inscribed luggage, others gliding smoothly on hoverboards, weaving effortlessly between their classmates. Some younger students, first-years, whispered nervously among themselves, their eyes darting around as they processed the energy of the school. ¡°Did you hear? Some people got promoted into our Room B from Room C!¡± ¡°That also means some people got demoted from Room A to Room B,¡± another first-year muttered, shifting uncomfortably. ¡°I guess that just means things are going to be crowded this semester.¡± Before the nervous murmurs could continue, a booming voice interrupted the chatter. ¡°Logan, my guy!¡± A massive figure lunged forward, an arm locking around Logan¡¯s neck in a playful headlock. ¡°J-Jay! Let me breathe!¡± Logan gasped, struggling to break free from Jay¡¯s iron grip. ¡°Come on, Jay, don¡¯t suffocate the guy before we even start the semester,¡± Roy¡¯s voice came from behind, stepping off his hover bike just as it seamlessly transformed into a sleek silver bracelet around his wrist. Jay loosened his grip and turned toward Roy, his bright eyes lighting up. ¡°Ah, the star boy is here at last! This semester, I won¡¯t let you leave me in the dust again!¡± he declared, punching Roy¡¯s shoulder in excitement. Roy took a dramatic step back, brushing the wrinkles out of his crimson blazer, before flashing a grin and winking at a group of watching female students. ¡°Careful with the fit, Jay. You know I¡¯ve got an image to maintain,¡± he teased, throwing a mock kiss toward the giggling onlookers. A sharp voice cut through the playful atmosphere. ¡°Must be nice, huh? Being both good-looking and talented. Not all of us can relate.¡± Turning, Roy spotted Melissa, casually pulling her luggage along beside her, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. June walked beside her, chuckling. Roy turned to her with a playful glint in his eye. ¡°Oh, come on, Melissa. You of all people should know exactly what it¡¯s like to be blessed.¡± He winked at her. Melissa¡¯s smirk instantly dropped, replaced by a look of pure disgust. ¡°Please. Never wink at me again.¡± June, caught in the middle, quickly stepped forward. ¡°Alright, guys, new semester, fresh start. Let¡¯s not start fighting on day one¡ªthere will be plenty of time to tear each other apart later,¡± she joked, stepping between the two. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Roy let out a chuckle, rubbing his chin in mock contemplation. ¡°That reminds me¡­¡± June continued, tilting her head. ¡°I don¡¯t see a certain serious-faced someone with you today.¡± Roy raised an eyebrow, momentarily confused¡ªuntil it clicked. ¡°Oh, Den?¡± he asked, his casual smile tightening slightly. ¡°Well, he had some personal issues to deal with. He¡¯ll be back once everything settles down.¡± He had memorized the perfect response, drilled into him by Kara, ensuring that he wouldn¡¯t let anything slip about Denwen¡¯s suspension and his entanglement with the enforcement agency. It was all going according to plan¡ªuntil a familiar and unwelcome voice cut through the conversation. ¡°Personal issues? Or should I say criminal issues?¡± The group stiffened. Turning slowly, Roy met the smug, self-satisfied face of Angus, standing with his arms folded, enjoying every second of the attention he had just stolen. Roy felt his heartbeat quicken, his palm slightly damp. He knew this would happen eventually, but not so soon. ¡°Well,¡± Angus continued, his grin widening, ¡°why don¡¯t you tell them, Roy? Tell them what kind of criminal your friend really is.¡± The atmosphere shifted, the previous lightheartedness sucked away like air from a vacuum. All eyes turned toward Roy, their curiosity quickly morphing into concern. ¡°Roy¡­¡± June¡¯s voice was softer, more cautious. ¡°What happened to him?¡± Roy forced himself to remain calm, but his fingers clenched slightly at his sides. Damn it. Angus simply stood there, waiting, his satisfied smirk deepening. Roy was trapped. --- The quiet hum of Crimson Academy¡¯s medical wing was eerily tranquil, a stark contrast to the bustling excitement filling the rest of the campus. Inside a small, dimly lit office, the sharp scent of antiseptic hung in the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of freshly conjured essence. At the center of the room, Kara sat at a sturdy oak table, her face a mask of determination, lips pressed tightly together as beads of sweat formed on her brow. The tips of her slender fingers glowed a faint green, delicate wisps of essence weaving like threads between her hands and the small, still-writhing fish laid out before her. The creature''s underbelly had been sliced open, a deep and fatal wound exposing the fragile organs within. Its gills flared weakly, its final moments slipping away as it twitched feebly under her trembling touch. Across the room, Professor Seraphis Alden, Kara¡¯s instructor and academy¡¯s most renowned Healing Mage, leaned against her desk with her arms folded, watching with an impassive expression. The faint glow of the overhead mana-lamps reflected off her round glasses, concealing the sharp scrutiny in her gaze. Kara gritted her teeth, her focus narrowing as she pushed more of her essence into the spell. The wound responded¡ªslowly knitting together, the flesh attempting to reform. Encouraged by the progress, she increased the flow, pouring more energy into the fish in an attempt to accelerate the process. Seraphis¡¯s sharp eyes narrowed, her lips pressing into a thin line. Kara didn¡¯t notice. She only saw the wound closing faster, the shimmering green essence mending torn muscle and fragile skin. The momentary glow of success filled her chest. Then¡ª A strange swelling rippled across the fish¡¯s body. Kara¡¯s stomach twisted in alarm. The once-faint glow intensified, spreading rapidly across the fish¡¯s form, the flesh around the wound bulging unnaturally. It twitched violently, its body convulsing as if being inflated from the inside. Kara¡¯s eyes widened. No. No, no, no. The green glow flared too bright, the fish¡¯s body expanding grotesquely¡ªthen, with a sickening POP, it exploded. Bits of flesh and viscera splattered across the room in a sudden burst, wet chunks landing on Kara¡¯s face, streaking her cheeks, her forehead, her robes. A warm, slimy glob slid down the side of her nose. Across from her, Professor Seraphis remained completely untouched, a thin mana shield shimmering faintly around her. She hadn¡¯t even flinched. A long, heavy silence filled the room. Kara¡¯s shoulders slumped in defeat, her hands falling into her lap as she clenched her jaw. Seraphis sighed, adjusting her glasses as she finally spoke. ¡°Well,¡± she said, unfazed, ¡°that¡¯s another dead patient.¡± Kara groaned, covering her face with both hands. The Art of Restoration The training hall within Crimson Academy was unlike any other. Unlike the combat arenas or spellcasting chambers filled with roaring flames and crashing ice, this space exuded tranquility, its air thick with the gentle hum of residual essence. The walls shimmered faintly, embedded with enchantments that encouraged focus and clarity. It was a place where precision reigned over raw power, where healing wasn¡¯t just magic¡ªit was an art. At the center of the hall, Kara stood, her posture tense, her fingers trembling slightly as she wiped fish viscera from her cheek. The remains of her latest failed attempt lay scattered across the polished floor, the acrid scent of burnt mana lingering in the air. Across from her, Professor Seraphis Alden observed silently, her sharp eyes hidden behind thin-rimmed glasses that reflected the soft glow of overhead mana-lamps. Dressed in her flowing healer¡¯s robes, the veteran mage exuded a calm, almost surgical authority, her presence commanding respect without the need for force. With a flick of her wrist, she raised a hand, and a gust of wind swept through the room, cleansing every trace of the exploded fish¡ªexcept for the bloodstains on Kara¡¯s uniform. The deliberate omission was noted, a silent reminder of her failure. Seraphis let the moment linger before speaking, her voice measured and crisp. ¡°Healing is not about willing a wound shut, Kara. It is about understanding what is broken and commanding essence to restore it properly.¡± She paced slowly, each step measured. ¡°You lack control. Not intention, not talent¡ªbut control. That is the difference between a skilled healer and a reckless amateur.¡± Kara swallowed, forcing herself to keep her gaze steady. She knew better than to speak now. This was a lesson, not a reprimand. Understanding the Core: Mana, Essence and Magic, these were the basics for every healer to understand. Professor Seraphis gestured toward the empty space between them. With a wave of her hand, three distinct lights manifested¡ªeach glowing with a unique energy. The first shimmered blue, pulsing rhythmically. The second glowed a vibrant gold, its light fluid and warm. The third crackled violet, an unstable mix of the first two, sparking unpredictably. ¡°Mana,¡± she pointed at the blue light, ¡°is the raw energy of the body as mages. It is our fuel, our lifeblood in spellcasting. But alone, it is crude and formless.¡± The light dimmed slightly, emphasizing its incomplete nature. ¡°Essence,¡± she continued, motioning toward the golden glow, ¡°is the world¡¯s energy, tied to natural laws¡ªfire, water, life, death. It is what gives magic structure and purpose. It is what warriors use¡± The golden light flared briefly, flowing like liquid, bending but never breaking. Finally, she motioned toward the violet energy, still unstable, shifting between forms. ¡°Magic,¡± she explained, ¡°is the act of blending mana with essence, shaping them into something greater.¡± She turned her gaze to Kara. ¡°Healing magic, in particular, requires the synchronization of your own mana with life essence¡ªnot an easy task.¡± The lights faded, leaving the lesson burned into Kara¡¯s mind. The Three Pillars of Healing Magic Seraphis stepped forward, her piercing gaze meeting Kara¡¯s. ¡°There are three pillars to healing magic. Ignore any one of them, and you will fail.¡± She raised one finger. Perception. ¡°Healing is not about seeing a wound; it is about feeling it. If you do not perceive an injury correctly, your spell will be crude.¡± A second finger joined. Restoration. ¡°You must guide the body¡¯s healing, not force it. If you restore blindly, you might cause the tissue to grow incorrectly¡ªleading to mutations, scarring, or worse.¡± Finally, she raised a third finger. Sustainability. ¡°Mana is not limitless. If you overextend yourself, you will collapse before saving your patient. A reckless healer dies before their patient does.¡± The words hung heavily between them, and for a moment, Kara felt insignificant¡ªas if she had been given the weight of life itself to hold. Professor Seraphis strode toward a large water tank in the corner of the room. Inside, several fish swam lazily, oblivious to their fate. She reached in, plucked one out, and suspended it in the air with a simple spell. Then, without hesitation, a razor-thin gust of wind sliced its underbelly open. The fish twitched, its lifeblood leaking onto the floor. Seraphis didn¡¯t flinch. Instead, with a slow, precise motion, she extended a single glowing fingertip. A soft golden light pulsed from her hand¡ªgentle, warm, yet firm in its command. Kara watched, wide-eyed, as the wound closed in layers, first the internal flesh, then the muscle, and finally the skin. The healing was flawless, the result of perfect control. ¡°Watch closely,¡± Seraphis murmured. ¡°Because now, it is your turn.¡± This fish was healed brand new but unfortunately for it another thin wound was carved into its belly. Kara steeled herself, stepping forward. She placed her hands over the wound, closing her eyes, reaching out with her essence. She felt it¡ªthe damaged flow of life, the fragility of the failing creature. She channeled her mana into the spell, trying to replicate her professor¡¯s precision. Immediately, the fish reacted violently, its body shuddering as the wound warped grotesquely instead of closing properly. Smack. Kara flinched as Seraphis smacked her wrist with the back of her fingers¡ªnot harsh, but firm. ¡°Control,¡± the professor scolded. ¡°You are not forcing the body to obey¡ªyou are guiding it back to harmony.¡± The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. Kara nodded tightly, adjusting her approach. She slowed her breathing, eased the flow of mana, and tried again¡ªthis time, carefully aligning her energy with the fish¡¯s natural healing process. The result was vastly different. The wound mended slowly, layer by layer, closing in the correct order. The fish twitched, weak but still alive. Seraphis gave a single nod. ¡°Better. True healing is not instant. The best healers restore what should have been, not what they wish to see.¡± Kara let out a slow exhale, a mix of relief and frustration filling her chest. Seraphis took a step back, folding her arms. ¡°Healing does not come free. Overuse leads to mana depletion, cellular degradation, even essence poisoning.¡± Kara stiffened. ¡°A healer who collapses mid-battle is worse than useless. They become another burden to save.¡± The words stung, but she absorbed them, letting them settle deep. The fish beneath her fingers shuddered again¡ªand then, it stilled. She froze. Its body was still intact, the wound nearly closed, but it was too weak to survive. Despite her progress, she had still failed. Kara¡¯s throat tightened. Seraphis studied her for a long moment before speaking. ¡°Go clean yourself up. We¡¯ll continue tomorrow.¡± Kara lowered her head, biting back her disappointment as she turned toward the exit. As the door shut behind her, Seraphis allowed herself a small, rare smile. ¡°She is more talented than she thinks,¡± the professor murmured. ¡°She just needs a little push.¡± --- The evening sky had settled into a deep navy hue, the last streaks of orange and pink barely visible beyond the academy¡¯s towering spires. The earlier bustling energy of returning students had faded, replaced by the muffled hum of distant chatter and the occasional shuffle of footsteps. The grand dormitory building, once a hive of movement, now stood quiet¡ªthe only sounds being the faint echo of voices bouncing off its marble corridors. Kara trudged inside, her limbs aching from the long day of training. Her clothes still carried the faint scent of mana-burnt flesh and dried blood, remnants of her repeated failures in healing class. Her expression was blank, exhaustion pressing against her like an invisible weight, but her mind was still buzzing with frustration over her earlier mistakes. Reaching the main staircase hall, she barely spared a glance at the massive, intertwining staircases that twisted and turned of their own accord, shifting like giant stone serpents. The staircases weren¡¯t static; they moved on an intricate timer, aligning with different floors in a clockwork dance. Kara had spent enough time in the dorms to memorize the timing, stepping onto the nearest bronze-rimmed steps right as they clicked into place, carrying her effortlessly upward. The stone beneath her feet trembled slightly, gears humming faintly as the structure adjusted itself. As soon as the staircase locked in position, Kara stepped off, exhaling tiredly as she turned down the dimly lit corridor toward the bathing chambers. She kept her head down, avoiding eye contact with the few lingering students. Some gave her a wide berth, their gazes flickering toward the bloodstains on her uniform, but she ignored their whispers. She wasn¡¯t in the mood for small talk. Just as she reached the entrance of the bathroom lobby, a familiar voice cut through the silence. ¡°Hey Kara, what¡¯s with the blood? Who did you kill?¡± Kara groaned internally, already recognizing the voice before turning to face June, her ever-inquisitive roommate. Without a word, she grabbed June¡¯s wrist and yanked her off the main hallway, pulling her into the bathing chamber¡¯s waiting area, away from prying ears. ¡°My practice went wrong today. And before you ask, yes, I resumed earlier than you guys,¡± Kara muttered, running a tired hand through her hair. June raised an eyebrow, arms crossing over her chest. ¡°Huh. Figures. You never could sit still for long.¡± Kara was about to brush it off when June¡¯s expression softened slightly. ¡°Hey¡­ I heard about Den¡¯s situation. I¡¯m really sorry.¡± Kara froze, her fatigue momentarily forgotten. ¡°Wait, how did you¡ª¡± Then, realization clicked into place. Her eyes narrowed dangerously. ¡°That idiot¡­¡± she muttered, her voice darkening with menace. June quickly raised both hands in surrender, shaking her head. ¡°Relax. It wasn¡¯t his fault.¡± She went on to explain what had happened earlier in the day¡ªhow Roy had been cornered by Angus, how the conversation had spiraled, and how Denwen¡¯s situation had been laid bare for others to speculate on. By the time June finished, Kara¡¯s fingers were twitching. ¡°That prick¡­ One day, he¡¯s gonna get what¡¯s coming to him,¡± she growled, her eyes burning with rage. June laughed, shaking her head. ¡°Oh, trust me, we all agree on that.¡± She gestured toward the row of sinks nearby, changing the topic before Kara could start plotting revenge. ¡°But before you start murder plans, I think you need to wash up. I need to clean my hands, too. We don¡¯t want to end up under house arrest now, do we?¡± Kara smirked and, without warning, stepped on June¡¯s foot¡ªhard enough to make her yelp. ¡°Ouch! What was that for?!¡± Kara rolled her shoulders. ¡°Just keeping you on your toes.¡± June shot her a mock glare, rubbing her foot before grabbing a towel. The two girls headed inside, their earlier frustration melting into the warm steam of the bathrooms, exhaustion giving way to quiet companionship as they prepared for the long semester ahead. Air of Accusation The air in Room A was thick with tension, an unusual restlessness settling over the class as students whispered among themselves, their voices hushed yet sharp like the edge of a blade. There was a noticeable shift in seating arrangements¡ªthe absence of ten students who had been demoted to Room B left a few empty spots, and already, some students were trying to claim new positions before the seating hierarchy was fully decided. But despite the minor chaos of moving bags and chairs, there was one absence that stood out more than the rest. Denwen was missing. At first, it had been a quiet observation. Then, it became a murmur. Before long, it had evolved into a wildfire of speculation, spreading from one seat to the next with unsettling speed. ¡°Hey, bro, did you hear? They say Denwen might be an Ember¡ªone of Emberfall¡¯s agents.¡± ¡°Yeah, I heard he¡¯s under investigation for causing a double dungeon. Can you imagine that? That stuff is high-level.¡± ¡°I really liked the guy¡­ but now that I think about it, isn¡¯t it suspicious? I mean, he¡¯s a D-rank talent, right? No major support, no crazy resources, yet he¡¯s progressing way too fast. Doesn¡¯t add up.¡± Some students nodded thoughtfully, considering the possibility, while others remained skeptical, shifting uncomfortably in their seats. ¡°Nah, that¡¯s insane. Why would Emberfall even bother with someone like him?¡± ¡°Who knows? Maybe he¡¯s a sleeper agent. You¡¯ve seen how ruthless they are.¡± Whispers coiled like smoke, wrapping around the room, filling every corner with doubt and unease. In the midst of the gossip, Melissa sat calmly, flipping through a book, her silver hair catching the light as if she was completely detached from the nonsense. She had no patience for rumors. Jay, on the other hand, shrunk into his seat, clearly uncomfortable. He wasn¡¯t the best at dealing with tension, and this? This was on a whole other level. Kara, however, was burning with fury. Her fingers gripped the desk tightly, her nails pressing into the wood hard enough that thin white lines were left behind. She could already guess the source of the rumors, and when she turned to confirm her suspicions, she wasn¡¯t disappointed. Sitting in his usual spot, looking sickeningly pleased with himself, was Angus. That smug bastard. When their eyes met, he grinned. A slow, taunting smirk that only fueled her rage further. As if to drive the knife deeper, he winked and blew her a kiss. Kara gave him a middle finger without hesitation before turning away, her jaw clenched so tightly it hurt. It was clear as day¡ªAngus had set this up. He must have planted the rumors, instructing his little minions to spread them beyond Room A, perhaps even through the entire school. Roy had been silent for too long. From his seat, his fists were clenched tightly, his nails digging into his palm as he tried to control his rising fury. But the moment the whispers became too much, the moment Denwen¡¯s name was dragged through the dirt, he couldn¡¯t take it anymore. He pushed back his chair and stood up abruptly, his presence commanding the room. Roy wasn¡¯t just any student. He was the class president, the prodigy with A-rank talent, the one who always had a jovial attitude and cocky grin across his face. But today, there was no grin. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Only rage. The moment he stood, the noise in the room died down as if someone had pressed a mute button. He swept his gaze across the classroom, his usually warm golden eyes now smoldering with anger, his aura pressing down on everyone like an approaching storm. The students gulped, shifting uncomfortably in their seats. Even the rowdiest ones knew better than to cross Roy when he was like this. And yet, as expected, Angus couldn¡¯t resist stirring the pot. ¡°Oh?¡± His voice cut through the silence, mocking, his smirk never faltering. ¡°What¡¯s wrong, Roy? You seem awfully defensive. Is it because it¡¯s your friend under scrutiny? What if it were someone else? What if it were¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­ me?¡± His words dripped with amusement, as if he was enjoying every second of the situation. But Roy didn¡¯t snap. He inhaled deeply, steadying his emotions, forcing himself to remain calm. Then, he turned his gaze to Angus, his expression unreadable but his eyes sharp as daggers. ¡°Look, no one deserves to be accused of something like this,¡± Roy said, his voice even. Deadly calm. ¡°I would still defend them. Even if that person was you, Angus.¡± The amusement in Angus¡¯ face flickered for a brief second. ¡°But let me make this clear to all of you.¡± Roy¡¯s voice rose, filling the entire classroom. ¡°You¡¯re throwing around accusations without any evidence, pointing fingers at your own classmate like it¡¯s a game.¡± He took one step forward, his presence growing heavier, his aura expanding. ¡°Do you even understand what you¡¯re suggesting?¡± He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. ¡°You¡¯ve all seen what Emberfall is capable of. You¡¯ve read the reports, watched the broadcasts. Some of you might have even lost family to them. And yet, here you are, blindly labeling someone as an Ember¡ªwithout proof, without reason¡ªjust because it makes for a good story?¡± The students shifted uncomfortably, some dropping their gazes. ¡°So, from now on, as your class president, I do not want to hear another word of slander or baseless speculation against Denwen.¡± His voice dropped slightly, but the intensity remained. ¡°Because if I do, you¡¯re going to have to face me¡ªwith everything you¡¯ve got.¡± His rank 2 aura flared, pressing down on the class like a crushing weight. Even Angus paled slightly, his usual smirk fading as he sank lower into his chair, his fingers twitching as if resisting the urge to grab his weapon. Roy stood there for a few more moments, ensuring that his message was delivered. The tension was palpable, the silence thick enough to choke on. Then¡ª ¡°Alright, that¡¯s enough, Roy.¡± The voice came from the doorway. Kael had arrived. The moment the instructor stepped in, the pressure eased, and students exhaled breaths they didn¡¯t even realize they were holding. Roy turned slightly, his expression neutral once more. ¡°I think your message is clear as day,¡± Kael continued, walking toward the podium. ¡°You can return to your seat.¡± Roy exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders before making his way back. As he passed by Kara, she gave him a small, appreciative smile. Jay shot him a thumbs-up, his admiration clear in his wide eyes. Even Melissa, ever the indifferent one, rolled her eyes¡ªbut if one looked closely, they¡¯d see the faintest ghost of a smile on her lips. Roy plopped down in his seat, exhaling softly. New Format Kael entered the classroom with a measured stride, the sharp click of his boots echoing slightly against the polished floor. The tension in the air was tangible, thick like a coiled storm waiting to unleash its fury, but he was pleased to see that Roy had already settled the unrest before it spiraled into something more severe. A small smirk played at the edge of his lips¡ªdiscipline was best instilled by the students themselves, and Roy had demonstrated exactly why he was respected among his peers. He adjusted the cuffs of his crisp white long-sleeve coat, its fabric trailing behind him just below the knees, exuding an aura of quiet authority. His gaze swept across the students, his piercing eyes dissecting their reactions¡ªsome were still shaken from the earlier confrontation, others already lost in thought, contemplating the meaning behind the empty seats scattered through the classroom. ¡°Welcome back to school, everyone,¡± Kael began, his voice steady yet commanding, carrying an undercurrent of something deeper¡ªanticipation, challenge, expectation. ¡°I am sure most of you are pumped for this semester, eager to push yourselves further. But before we move forward, I want you all to take a moment¡­ and look around you.¡± Silence stretched across the room as heads turned, eyes shifting between vacant chairs and half-filled rows. ¡°I am sure you notice the empty seats.¡± His tone darkened slightly, as if pressing the weight of his words into their bones. ¡°Let this be a stark reminder¡ªonly those who are truly deserving of Room A will remain here. The rest? They will fall. That is the nature of progress.¡± He let the words settle like lead into their minds before continuing, his voice smooth but firm. ¡°Each of you fought tooth and nail to reach this point. You trained harder than most, honed your skills, and became mid-rank 1¡¯s. That alone makes you the strongest amongst the first-years and the elite among your peers.¡± A murmur rippled through the students, pride swelling in some, uncertainty festering in others. It was exactly the reaction he expected. They needed to recognize their accomplishments, but more importantly, they needed to understand that it was only the beginning. ¡°That is why,¡± Kael said, pausing just long enough to draw every pair of eyes to him, ¡°this second semester, we will be preparing you all for your very first dungeon dive.¡± The reaction was immediate. A wave of excitement and apprehension crashed through the room. Some students leaned forward, eyes glinting with anticipation, while others stiffened in their seats, fear creeping into their expressions. The contrast was always fascinating¡ªwho thrived on challenge, and who shrank away from it? ¡°Listen carefully,¡± Kael¡¯s voice cut through the noise like a blade, silencing the whispers before they could spread too far. ¡°We all know how dangerous dungeons can be. That is why it is crucial to set your mindset straight now¡ªto face it head-on rather than falter when the time comes.¡± With a flick of his wrist, the air shimmered before him, and suddenly, holographic illustrations flickered into existence. A massive, labyrinth-like cavern, littered with jagged rock formations, eerie tunnels, and glowing red eyes peering from the darkness. It was the dungeon they would be entering. ¡°The dungeon assigned to you all has been explored each year by every set before you¡ªthe Rank 1 Fanged Bunny Dungeon.¡± At the mention of its name, the class erupted into hushed discussions. While it was one of the more common dungeons for first-year students, it was still a dangerous venture. Fanged Bunnies weren¡¯t just oversized rabbits with sharp teeth¡ªthey were fast, unpredictable, and worked in coordinated packs, making them a nightmare for the unprepared. Kael allowed them their murmurs for a moment before waving his hand, the illustrations shifting to the side, making way for a new projection¡ªone that displayed an extensive syllabus in neatly categorized sections. ¡°This semester,¡± he continued, his gaze sweeping over the class, ¡°you will learn everything there is to know about dungeons¡ªtheir classifications, the survival tactics necessary for different environments, and most importantly, how to properly utilize your skills when faced with real danger.¡± The syllabus expanded, section by section: ? Dungeon Fundamentals ? Survival Strategies in Hostile Environments ? Tactical Formations & Team Coordination ? Skill Application & Combat Efficiency Kael¡¯s gaze darkened slightly. ¡°Your practical sessions this semester will be far more intense than anything you¡¯ve experienced before. You will no longer be fed milk¡ªyou will be made to chew on bones.¡± If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. A hushed breath moved through the students. They understood what that meant. The trials would be harsher, the expectations greater. Mistakes would not be forgiven. ¡°Oh, and one more thing,¡± Kael added, his expression turning slightly amused, yet laced with challenge. ¡°This year¡¯s dungeon evaluation will be different.¡± A fresh wave of murmurs spread, this time laced with curiosity and uncertainty. ¡°Normally, the entire class would enter together,¡± he explained. ¡°However, due to the exceptional progress made last semester¡ªand the fact that this is the highest number of second-semester students we have retained in years¡ªwe are changing the format.¡± His gaze flicked to Roy, who met his eyes with a knowing smirk. ¡°And, of course, the presence of a Rank 2 among you only makes things more¡­ interesting.¡± Roy rolled his shoulders, basking in the subtle praise. Angus, on the other hand, visibly tensed, his usual smirk twitching slightly. ¡°The evaluation will be a team-based challenge,¡± Kael announced. ¡°The top 10 ranked students will serve as team leaders¡ªincluding those who are currently absent.¡± His words were deliberate as he glanced at Angus, whose smirk faltered for the briefest moment before returning, though less smug than before. ¡°Each leader will assemble a team of five. Your selections must be submitted one week before the exam for vetting.¡± A new wave of reactions flooded the room. The usual dynamic of working together as a full class was being shattered. Mellissa raised her hand. ¡°Sir, there are only forty of us in the room. If we divide into teams of five, wouldn¡¯t that mean we¡¯re short by ten members?¡± Kael¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change. ¡°Very good. We are testing your ability not just to fight¡ªbut to protect. That is why each team will be assigned one unawakened student from the elementary academy. It will be your responsibility to ensure their survival.¡± The weight of the statement hung heavy in the air. The idea of having to safeguard a weaker, unawakened student during a real dungeon dive was daunting. For some, it meant an extra burden. For others, it was a challenge they hadn¡¯t prepared for. ¡°Take this semester seriously,¡± Kael¡¯s voice hardened. ¡°Because when you step into that dungeon, there will be no second chances.¡± --- Over at Doitand, in a dimly lit, rundown hotel room, the flickering bulbs cast erratic shadows against the cracked walls. The faint buzz of faulty wiring hummed like a persistent insect, its presence a constant reminder of their unstable refuge. The air was thick with tension, the kind that settled deep into the bones, a silent understanding that their situation was deteriorating faster than they could adjust. Six figures occupied the cramped space, each one accustomed to the dangers that lurked beyond these fragile walls. In the corner, a woman wearing a snug head warmer sat with her legs crossed atop the chair, holding one eye shut as she focused intently a dim glow reflected off her other open sharp eye. ¡°Boss,¡± she murmured, breaking the silence. ¡°Looks like we¡¯ve been compromised again.¡± On the bed, Garrick sat beside Corbin, their discussion halted as they turned their attention to her. ¡°You found another one?¡± Garrick asked, his voice carrying the weight of familiarity¡ªthis wasn¡¯t the first, nor would it be the last. She nodded once, a cold chilling aura leaving her body for a brief second as her index finger and thumb formed a gun shape on the other hand as she jerked a bit like a bullet had been released but nothing was seen by the others ¡°Already handled.¡± Corbin sighed, rubbing his temple. ¡°That makes twelve just this week. Five in the past day alone. We can¡¯t keep this up. We need to move.¡± Garrick exhaled slowly, his fingers drumming against his knee. ¡°Agreed. This place is compromised. We need to relocate again, somewhere further from town, somewhere secure.¡± He shifted his gaze toward a lean figure standing near the window, the neon cityscape casting fragmented reflections on his dark lenses. ¡°Vance, find us a new location for Dante will need time to build a temporary base now.¡± Vance gave a lazy nod, unwrapping a fresh lollipop and popping it into his mouth before his fingers glided effortlessly over a floating holographic keyboard. ¡°On it,¡± he muttered, eyes scanning through dozens of potential locations, each one assessed with meticulous precision. Outside, the wind howled through the broken vents, a whisper of the chaos that awaited them beyond these walls. Time was running out, and they all knew it. The 3rd Unit On the outskirts of Doitand, in the middle of a vast, barren desert, nothing seemed amiss. The cold night air whispered across shifting dunes, an endless sea of sand concealing the horrors buried beneath. But below this desolate wasteland, hidden beneath layers of compacted earth, a sanctuary had been carved out¡ªan underground refuge, meticulously crafted by Dante¡¯s earth magic. Unlike the cramped, makeshift hideouts they had been forced to use in the city, Dante using his earth magic had made this space, it was expansive, its walls reinforced and stable. A stark contrast to the rotting wooden floors and damp concrete walls of the rundown hotels they had been moving between. Vance had strung up small crystal-powered bulbs along the ceiling, their dim glow casting long, wavering shadows against the earthy walls. April, ever prepared, retrieved an inflatable bed from her spatial ring, shaking it out with practiced ease before turning toward Corbin with a playful smirk. ¡°Captain, why did we have to go through all of that trouble when we could¡¯ve just done this from the start?¡± she asked, rolling out the bed. Then, holding out the nozzle toward Corbin, she batted her lashes. ¡°Corbin, love, could you¡ª?¡± ¡°How many times do I have to tell you? I¡¯m not your personal pump. Do it yourself,¡± Corbin grumbled, pushing the nozzle away. April merely grinned, pressing it against his cheek, her persistence unwavering. With a resigned sigh, Corbin flicked his wrist, summoning a controlled burst of wind that flowed into the bed, inflating it in seconds. Dante leaned against the wall, his gaze shifting toward Garrick, who had remained silent since they arrived. The tension in the room was palpable, heavy with an unspoken urgency. ¡°Dante,¡± Garrick finally spoke, his voice carrying a weight that silenced the idle chatter. ¡°The prisoner.¡± At his command, the earth groaned as part of the wall shifted and peeled away, revealing a figure pinned to the hardened surface. A man, his body limp, his cloak torn and stained with blood. The shadows clung to him like a second skin, but even in his unconscious state, his aura pulsed faintly¡ªdangerous, restrained fury. Selene let out a low whistle. ¡°Another Ember. And this one¡¯s strong. Mid-Rank 2 at least, to have survived one of my bullets.¡± Corbin adjusted his glasses, his sharp gaze appraising the captive. ¡°That only means they¡¯re starting to take us seriously.¡± ¡°Which means we¡¯re getting close,¡± Dante added, his eyes darkening. ¡°If we can extract the right information from him, we could shut this operation down before reinforcements even arrive.¡± Garrick exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his head. His thoughts drifted to his last conversation with his brother¡ªa conversation that left a sour taste in his mouth. ¡°That¡¯s the problem,¡± he admitted. ¡°We¡¯ve been ordered to stand down until reinforcements arrive.¡± The room fell into a stunned silence, everyone exchanging sharp glances. ¡°What?¡± April¡¯s voice cut through the tension, her usual playful demeanor replaced with something far colder. ¡°You¡¯re saying we should just sit back and do nothing? While those kids are being experimented on?¡± No one spoke, but the images were already forming in their minds¡ªfrail bodies with bones pressing against thin, malnourished skin, tiny hands marred with injection marks, eyes hollowed out by unimaginable suffering. April clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. ¡°We¡¯ve seen them, Garrick. We¡¯ve freed some of them. Do you know what they looked like? They weren¡¯t just scared¡ªthey were broken. Starved. Some of them could barely stand. And now you¡¯re telling me we should wait?¡± Garrick met her burning gaze with quiet resolve. ¡°I understand how you feel, April. But if the rumors of an Ashborne being here are true, then we won¡¯t stand a chance if we engage too soon.¡± Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. After a moment, Garrick turned to Vance. ¡°How are your sparrows doing?¡± Vance had been silent, his attention locked on his screen¡ªa complex display of multiple live feeds running simultaneously. His fingers danced over the holographic interface, shifting through various surveillance points with precision. ¡°I¡¯ve managed to triangulate several locations where their operations might be concentrated,¡± he reported, his voice flat. But his gaze flickered toward the unconscious Ember fused into the wall. ¡°Though¡­ if you let me, I might be able to extract something more direct.¡± Garrick narrowed his eyes. ¡°You mean¡ª?¡± Vance nodded. ¡°Memory extraction. I can access parts of his mind and pull out key information. But you know the cost¡ªit¡¯ll kill him.¡± Before Garrick could respond, April spoke, her voice sharp as a blade. ¡°Then do it.¡± No hesitation. No mercy. Garrick gave a curt nod, and Vance pulled out a sleek cylindrical device from his ring. Three needle-like points glinted at one end as he gripped the handle, his eyes darkening with the activation of his Rank 3 essence. He approached the captive, pressing the device against the base of his skull. ¡°Well, this is going to hurt,¡± Vance muttered before driving the device in. The Ember¡¯s body jerked violently, his screams ripping through the underground hideout. Electricity crackled, sending arcs of energy dancing across his skin as his mind was forcibly invaded. His eyes bulged, blood vessels rupturing as pure agony coursed through him. The team watched, impassive, as Vance¡¯s own eyes flooded with images¡ªscenes flashing through his mind at a dizzying pace. He saw it. A laboratory. Rows upon rows of beds, each one occupied by a child. Some were missing limbs, their small bodies still breathing¡ªstill alive¡ªas tubes drained fluids from them. Others hung limply in restraints, their mouths stretched in silent screams, their eyes unfocused. And the worst¡ª The tubes. Glass containment chambers filled with twisting, writhing figures, their bodies malformed, some no longer resembling children at all. Some¡­ looked like Scions. Their skin gray and cracked, their fingers elongated into something inhuman. Their eyes burned with madness, their bodies struggling against their confines, fighting against the twisted science that had reshaped them. Vance¡¯s breathing grew ragged, his tears falling freely as the images seared into his consciousness. His vision blurred as the last image came into focus¡ªa towering hospital in the heart of the city. Then the beeping started. His holographic screens shut down one by one until only one remained¡ªa live aerial view of Doitand¡¯s largest hospital. The team¡¯s eyes locked onto the screen. Vance¡¯s voice, thick with fury, tore through the silence. ¡°You monsters¡­ how far would you go?¡± His rage exploded as he slammed his knuckles into the Ember¡¯s face, the shriveled man already long dead, his body barely intact. But Vance didn¡¯t stop¡ªhis knuckle brace formed over his fist as he threw another strike, obliterating what was left of the corpse. He turned, his chest heaving, his face a twisted mask of fury as he met the stunned gazes of his team. ¡°That¡¯s the location.¡± ________________________________________ Meanwhile¡­ Deep beneath the city, in a sterile, dimly lit lab, a scientist gazed at a containment tube filled with dark green liquid. Inside, a Scion floated¡ªits body eerily still, its humanoid form unsettlingly perfect. Unlike the grotesque failures that lined the other chambers, this one was different. Its skin was smooth, its breathing steady. It was becoming something more. A monitor beeped, the progress bar reading 80% and rising. A manic grin spread across the scientist¡¯s face as he let out a twisted, hysterical laugh. ¡°Hahahaha¡­ Finally, one that has surpassed the 80% mark without imploding.¡± His eyes gleamed with mad excitement. ¡°The perfect creation is about to be born.¡± A Bad Omen The room simmered with boiling rage, the air thick with tension as Vance finished recounting the horrors he had extracted from the Ember¡¯s memories. Silence reigned for a moment, but it was the kind that crackled with contained fury, an explosion waiting for a spark. Dante slammed his fist against the wall, the force splintering the surface before his mana instinctively repaired the damage, stone knitting itself back together. Selene, usually indifferent and aloof, had her ice aura flickering, tendrils of cold mist swirling around her hands, her lips pressed into a thin, trembling line. April paced the length of the room, her boots hitting the ground in an angry, rhythmic thud, her fingers curling into tight fists that she occasionally smashed into her open palm. Corbin had taken off his glasses, gripping them in his hand as his mind raced through possibilities. He was supposed to be the calm, logical one, but even now, as he ran through scenarios, a primal, gut-wrenching fury twisted in his chest. How could they just sit here after hearing this? Garrick, having listened in silence, finally stood. His movement was deliberate, measured¡ªa stark contrast to the barely restrained emotions crackling through the room. ¡°You guys do not make a move until I get back,¡± he ordered, voice firm but heavy. He turned toward the exit, but April¡¯s voice sliced through the tension before he could leave. ¡°You still want us to just sit here and do nothing?¡± she snapped, turning to face him fully. Her eyes burned with raw fury. ¡°You heard Vance. There is no Ashborne there! We should go in and raze that entire place to the ground.¡± Dante, still fuming, crossed his arms. ¡°Come on, boss. You know very well that every second we wait is another second those bastards continue their experiments.¡± Garrick turned, surveying his team. His gaze landed on Vance, whose bloodied hands had yet to dry, the horror of what he had witnessed still evident in his vacant stare. Then Selene, standing stiff as though holding back the urge to kill something. His eyes finally settled on Corbin, the one he knew he could trust to think with his head rather than his heart. ¡°What do you think?¡± Garrick asked, his tone calm despite the storm in the room. Corbin exhaled deeply, closing his eyes for a brief moment before answering. ¡°Honestly? My head is telling me one thing, and my heart is telling me another.¡± His voice was steady, but the weight behind it was immense. ¡°My head is telling me to wait for reinforcement, to let things play out without going in like fools.¡± He paused, then slowly opened his eyes, locking his gaze with Garrick¡¯s. ¡°But my heart? My heart won¡¯t accept that.¡± The silence stretched, his next words filling the space with undeniable conviction. ¡°My heart is telling me we can¡¯t leave those kids in the hands of those monsters any longer. That we need to make them pay.¡± Garrick fought the war inside himself, battles waged between duty and rage, logic and morality. He wanted a clear solution¡ªone that didn¡¯t end in disaster. ¡°So, what conclusion do you have?¡± he asked, hopeful for an answer that wouldn¡¯t push them into chaos. Corbin sighed, slowly placing his glasses back on and adjusting them. ¡°We hit the hospital, but not as an assault. A retrieval mission. We get in, we get the kids out, and we disappear.¡± Garrick exhaled, rubbing the back of his head. ¡°I need time to think. No one moves until I get back.¡± If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Dante wordlessly opened the earthen exit, allowing Garrick to step out into the cool night air. ________________________________________ The breeze was crisp against his face, a stark contrast to the suffocating tension underground. The streets of Doitand stretched ahead, dimly illuminated by flickering streetlights, shadows shifting unnaturally in the alleys. He walked in silence, hands in his pockets, the weight of responsibility pressing down on him. Despite the planet''s technological advances, places like Doitand remained untouched by progress, a relic of a time that should have faded. Beggars lined the streets, ignored by most, pitied by few. He passed an old woman, her frail hands shaking as she held up a plate, her blind eyes unseeing. Something about her presence itched at the back of his mind, but he ignored it, tossing a gold coin into her plate. Her fingers snapped forward, clamping onto his wrist like iron. His breath hitched. She was strong¡ªfar stronger than she should be. Her eyes turned white, and she began to murmur, her voice a whispering echo that shouldn¡¯t have been possible. ¡°Blood will rain beneath the embered sky¡­ a spear will shatter, a warrior will fall¡­ Death will wear a face you have yet to know.¡± The world shifted. He was no longer in Doitand. The ground beneath him was blackened rubble, the sky a deep crimson red, ashen ruins stretching endlessly. He looked down¡ªhis spear lay shattered at his feet, his hand dripping with his own blood. ¡°The path is paved, your end is written. You must leave this place, or the abyss will claim you.¡± His ears rang with distant screams. The corpses of the fallen, blood pooling together in streams of deep red, merging into a sea that surged toward him. He stumbled back as it swallowed his feet, the current pulling him toward a jagged spire. ¡°A blade unseen. A force untouched. Even the strongest storm bends to an unseen wind.¡± His body was hurled forward, a sharp pain piercing his chest as darkness devoured him. ¡°You should have left.¡± He gasped, tearing his hand from the woman¡¯s grip. She collapsed, her body shaking violently. He stumbled back, breath ragged. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, and for the first time in years, his hands trembled. What the actual fuck¡­ He turned and walked away, quickly, needing distance from that accursed woman. His mind raced, trying to rationalize what had just happened, but his thoughts were cut short by a scream. ________________________________________ ¡°Please take me instead!¡± The anguished cry sliced through the night, sending a cold chill down Garrick¡¯s spine. A crowd had gathered, forming a half-circle around a mother, her voice raw from screaming. She struggled against two men restraining her, her nails digging into their arms as she tried to fight. Two children were being dragged into a dark van, their terrified cries muffled by the sound of the engine revving. Garrick¡¯s muscles coiled, his rage boiling over. ¡°Looks like I¡¯ve found the perfect punching bag to relieve all this tension.¡± He pulled out his spear, the weapon humming with raw essence. With a flick of his wrist, he hurled it forward. The metal screeched as it punctured the front of the van, pinning it to the ground. The kidnappers froze, turning their heads in panic. Garrick cracked his knuckles, stepping forward, his eyes gleaming with barely restrained fury. A Mother’s Plea The street was alive with whispers, shadows stretching under flickering lamplights as the fight began to unfold. Bystanders gathered cautiously, some peering from windows, others lingering at a distance, their curiosity battling their fear. A crowd had begun to form, silent witnesses to the tension crackling in the air. The mother, wild with panic, broke free from her captors, falling at Garrick¡¯s feet. Her hands clutched at his trousers, fingers trembling as she sobbed uncontrollably. The momentary pause in the chaos allowed the four kidnappers to reassess, their wary eyes darting between Garrick and their fallen van. A hooded man stepped forward, voice laced with arrogance. ¡°Who the hell are you?¡± he sneered. ¡°Do you know who you¡¯re messing with?¡± Garrick rolled his shoulders, his knuckles cracking as he flexed his fingers. ¡°I¡¯ll give you one chance,¡± he said, his voice eerily calm. ¡°Drop the child. Run. And don¡¯t look back.¡± One of the men, taller than the rest, stepped forward. His hood fell back, revealing a bald head covered in intricate tattoos, runes glowing faintly along his scalp. Flames erupted around his fists, casting an ominous glow on his face. ¡°You want to be a hero?¡± the tattooed man taunted, smirking. ¡°Then you¡¯ll get the hero¡¯s welcome¡ªDoitand style.¡± And then he launched forward, a blazing fist aimed straight at Garrick¡¯s head. ________________________________________ "Great, I didn''t want you to resist anyway" Garrick moved. Effortlessly, he sidestepped the incoming strike, the heat licking at his cheek as the flaming fist barely missed him. In one fluid motion, he twisted, his elbow driving into the man¡¯s exposed ribs with brutal force. CRACK! The rune-shield flickered violently before shattering like glass. The man barely had time to register his impending doom before Garrick¡¯s fist buried itself deep into his gut. His body lifted off the ground, crashing through the air like a ragdoll before slamming into the side of a building. The wall buckled under the impact, dust and debris raining down as the man¡¯s limp form slid to the ground, unconscious. Garrick exhaled, disappointed. ¡°I was intending to rip right through him but I guess I didn¡¯t expect an early rank 3 out here trying to kidnap little kids." The remaining three men staggered back instinctively, realizing their situation had just gone from bad to catastrophic. With their leader being one shot, Fear flashed in their eyes. ¡°No one said anything about a Peak Rank 3 being here.¡± Garrick cracked his neck, his gaze cold, predatory. ¡°What happened to that hero¡¯s welcome? I was expecting a party.¡± In the next breath, he vanished. Before the second man could react, Garrick reappeared behind him, his essence wrapping around his fingers like a sharp spear. He thrust his hand as the sharp tip tore through the man¡¯s spine, bursting out through his chest in an explosion of crimson. His body jerked violently before going limp, Garrick yanking his hand free without a second thought. The third kidnapper turned to run. ¡°Oh no, you don¡¯t.¡± Garrick¡¯s hand snapped out, fingers gripping the man¡¯s wrist like a steel vice. He yanked him back, twisting the arm until the bone snapped through the skin with a sickening tear. The man¡¯s scream echoed down the empty street. ¡°This is the hand you put on the child, right?¡± Garrick¡¯s voice was ice. He tightened his grip, twisting further, his victim¡¯s cries turning to guttural, ragged wails. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. The last hooded man, realizing he was outmatched, grabbed the child and pulled out a rune-inscribed paper. Garrick¡¯s eyes widened. A flash bomb. The moment the paper crumbled in the man¡¯s grasp¡ª BOOM! A blinding burst of golden light engulfed the street. The sheer force of the detonation disoriented Garrick for a split second, long enough for the final kidnapper to vanish into the night, child in tow. As the light faded, Garrick¡¯s vision returned to a scene of devastation. The other kidnappers lay unmoving, but the child was gone. His fists clenched, knuckles turning white. ¡°Fuck.¡± Behind him, the mother¡¯s voice cut through the silence like a blade. ¡°Rose¡­ Rose¡­ NO!¡± ________________________________________ The mother stumbled forward, her legs giving out as she fell onto her knees. She clutched at Garrick¡¯s leg, her entire body trembling as she sobbed. ¡°Please, sir¡ªhelp me! You have to get her back! She¡¯s my only child! My only happiness in this world! I can¡¯t lose her! Not like this!¡± Her words struck deeper than any blade. Garrick looked down at her, his heart pounding. He had failed. He was stronger than every man here, and yet he let a child slip through his fingers. What was the point of all this strength if he couldn¡¯t even save one innocent life? His fists trembled. No. He wouldn¡¯t let this happen. Garrick bent down, lifting the woman to her feet. ¡°I swear to you¡ªRose will come back to you, unharmed. I promise.¡± Her sobs quieted, her tear-stained eyes searching his face for any sign of deception. When she found none, hope flickered back into her gaze, like a dying star reigniting. Without another word, Garrick walked to the van, yanked his spear from the wreckage, and disappeared into the night sky. ________________________________________ Back at the base, the doors slid open. The team turned, taken aback by Garrick¡¯s sudden return. Blood still stained his knuckles, his face twisted in barely controlled fury. Corbin was the first to break the silence. ¡°Well, that¡¯s one way to make an entrance.¡± But when he saw the pure rage in Garrick¡¯s eyes, his smirk faded. ¡°Get ready,¡± Garrick ordered, voice seething. ¡°We hit that hospital tonight.¡± The team froze for a split second, before grins spread across their faces. Dante stretched, rolling his shoulders. ¡°Finally.¡± Selene¡¯s lips curled into a smirk. ¡°I was getting sick of waiting.¡± April nodded, fire burning in her gaze. ¡°Let¡¯s burn them to the ground.¡± As they moved to gear up, Corbin approached Garrick, leaning against the wall wiping the blood from his hand. ¡°Alright, spill. What changed your mind?¡± Garrick exhaled, his fingers tightening around into a fist as he told Corbin everything. Corbin listened, silent. Then he nodded, eyes dark with understanding. ¡°Looks like fate is giving us a push.¡± At the mention of fate, Garrick stiffened. The vision of the old woman flashed in his mind. The prophecy. The abyss. The broken spear. His gaze flickered to Dante¡ªthe only one who would understand. The only one who believed in omens. But he couldn¡¯t waver now. Garrick shoved the thoughts away, his grip tightening on his weapon. If fate wanted to take him, it would have to fight for it. Beneath the White Walls The night was perfect for the mission. Cold, quiet, and empty. A single hospital stood against the vast skyline of Doitand, its white walls pristine, its windows reflecting the artificial glow of streetlights. To the ordinary eye, it was just another late-night medical facility. A place where nurses made rounds, doctors filled prescriptions, and emergency rooms stayed open to the unfortunate. But the 3rd Unit knew better. As they walked toward the entrance, they looked like nothing more than civilians¡ªa group of friends perhaps, seeking medical attention for a late-night emergency. Their weapons, armor, and gear remained hidden within their spatial rings, but their bodies were primed for battle. Every movement controlled, every step calculated. ¡°We¡¯re clear,¡± Vance¡¯s voice rang out through their mental link. ¡°No increased security. No unusual movement. If they have anything underground, they¡¯re doing a damn good job keeping it hidden.¡± The team reached the entrance, and Garrick took the lead, pushing open the glass doors. ________________________________________ Inside, the hospital felt... wrong. The air was too still, the atmosphere unnaturally sterile. The receptionist, a pale woman with tired eyes, looked up with a practiced smile that didn¡¯t quite reach her face. The fluorescent lights above buzzed faintly, casting a dim glow over the empty waiting area. Empty. That was the first red flag. A hospital should never be this empty. Even at this hour, there should have been patients, nurses walking the halls, distant murmurs of night-shift staff. But the silence stretched long and deep, pressing against their senses like a heavy weight. Garrick approached the receptionist, giving her a relaxed smile. ¡°Hey, sorry for the late visit. Had a bit of an accident earlier. Just need a check-up.¡± The receptionist nodded, her tone polite but distant. ¡°Of course. Do you have an appointment?¡± While Garrick kept her attention, the rest of the team silently moved into position. Selene closed one eye. The world shifted. Through her Locked-On skill, the hospital¡¯s walls became transparent, revealing the true layout beyond. She scanned the hallways, the patient rooms, the operating theaters. Nothing. Most of the rooms were empty. She stiffened. ¡°Something¡¯s off,¡± she whispered through their mental link. ¡°The receptionist is lying. She says the hospital is active, but the rooms are barely occupied.¡± Across the lobby, Dante pressed his hand to the floor, his essence sinking into the ground. His senses extended, mapping out the building¡¯s structure. The floors below¡­ weren¡¯t normal. ¡°We¡¯ve got an underground facility,¡± Dante confirmed. ¡°And it¡¯s big.¡± Meanwhile, Corbin observed the workers more closely. The doctors and nurses moved with eerily synchronized movements, their interactions forced and mechanical. And then he noticed it¡ªthe tattoos on the backs of their hands. Dark ink, twisting shapes, barely visible beneath their sleeves. ¡°The hospital staff isn¡¯t just in on this,¡± Corbin muttered. ¡°They¡¯re compromised.¡± Selene¡¯s eye caught movement. A hooded man entered a private doctor¡¯s office at the far end of the hall. Moments later, she watched as he pulled a book from the shelf, revealing a hidden elevator behind the wall. She immediately relayed the information. ¡°Hidden access point confirmed. Leads underground.¡± Garrick¡¯s jaw tightened. This was it. ________________________________________ Garrick took a step forward, his posture relaxed, but his muscles tense. "Sir where are you heading to" the receptionist asked with a forced smile. "I think I would just meet the doctor straight away, it is kind of important" he responded with a smile as he continued to walk towards the office when one of the male nurses stepped in front of him stopping him. "Come on, don''t you think it is a crime to obstruct a person from receiving proper check up, Garrick joked The receptionist stilled. The nurses stopped walking. The doctors froze mid-step. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Then, one by one, they turned to face him. ¡°You should have left peacefully.¡± the nurse said as a dagger fell out the sleeve of his lab coat All hell broke loose Garrick moved first. Garrick took a step forward, his posture relaxed, but his muscles tense. "Sir, where are you heading to?" the receptionist asked with a forced smile. "I think I would just meet the doctor straight away. It is kind of important," he responded with a smile as he continued to walk toward the office when one of the male nurses stepped in front of him, blocking his path. "Come on, don''t you think it is a crime to obstruct a person from receiving proper medical attention?" Garrick joked. The receptionist stilled. The nurses stopped walking. The doctors froze mid-step. Then, one by one, they turned to face him. ¡°You should have left peacefully,¡± the nurse said as a dagger slipped from the sleeve of his lab coat. All hell broke loose. Garrick moved first. ________________________________________ The air cracked with energy as the disguised medical staff shed their pretense, revealing Embers of Emberfall hidden in plain sight. Peak Rank 2s and early Rank 3s. The nurse lunged, dagger aimed for Garrick¡¯s throat, but before he could strike, Garrick¡¯s spear materialized in his grip. With a single, brutal motion, he drove it through the man¡¯s chest, lifting him off his feet before slamming him into the ground. Blood pooled beneath the body. Selene moved. She retrieved her sniper pistol artifact from her spatial ring, its sleek design glowing with faint blue runes. With one eye closed, she fired. Her ice bullet tore through the skull of an approaching Ember, freezing his body mid-motion before he shattered into pieces. Not a single shot missed. April swung her halberd in a circular motion, the blades coming alive with flaming heat as they cleaved through various embers left and right. A fiery whip approaching her as she skillfully spun the halberd changing the directions of the whip and slicing off the hand of the female ember that held it. Two more Embers charged at Dante, their aura flaring with violent heat. Dante smirked, slamming his palm into the ground. The tiles beneath them cracked and split as jagged earth spikes erupted, impaling the attackers where they stood. Their bodies spasmed before falling still. Corbin dodged an incoming fireball, twisting mid-air before sending a wind-infused kick into the caster¡¯s ribs. The Ember flew across the room, crashing through a metal door with bone-snapping force. Vance directed his drones, hacking into the enemy¡¯s communication implants. The tattoos on the Embers¡¯ arms flickered, their essence flow disrupted, making their attacks sluggish. One final Ember¡ªa towering brute nearly reaching Rank 3¡¯s peak¡ªroared and rushed toward Garrick. Garrick exhaled, his grip tightening on his spear. As the brute swung a heavy fist, Garrick sidestepped at the last second, his spear slicing clean through the Ember¡¯s exposed throat. The brute gurgled, his lifeblood spilling onto the floor as he collapsed. Within minutes, the lobby was silent once more. Garrick tore his spear from the last fallen body. ¡°We¡¯re going down.¡± The elevator was waiting. --- The Underground Lab Far below, deep within the underground facility, alarms blared. Scientists rushed about in panic, their hands flying across glowing control panels. One of them ran toward a lone figure standing before a massive containment tube. Inside the tube, a Scion floated¡ªits body eerily still, curled in the fetal position. The progress bar on the monitor read 89%. The scientist stammered. ¡°They¡¯ve breached the entrance! We need to evacuate¡ª¡± The lead scientist raised a hand, silencing him. He didn¡¯t move. His eyes remained locked on the Scion. ¡°No,¡± he said, smiling faintly. ¡°We wait.¡± A soft chime filled the room. The elevator had arrived. The doors slid open. And the 3rd Unit stepped into the large lab. Infinite Space The descent was agonizingly slow. The elevator hummed as it carried the 3rd Unit deeper into the underground, the dim, flickering lights inside the cramped space casting distorted shadows on their faces. They remained silent, their breaths controlled, their hands resting near their weapons. No one knew what awaited them below. But they had already decided. Tonight, this place would burn. The soft ding of the elevator broke the silence. The doors slid open, revealing the horrors hidden beneath the white walls of the hospital. ________________________________________ The underground facility stretched into the distance, far larger than any of them had expected. Metal walls gleamed under sickly yellow light, the sterile scent of chemicals barely masking the underlying stench of blood, decay, and suffering. Rows of surgical tables lined the area, each one occupied by frail, unmoving figures¡ªchildren, their bodies strapped down, eyes hollow and lifeless. Some were missing limbs, their wounds hastily stitched with black sutures, their flesh marred with glowing runes. To the left, tubes of thick glass held writhing figures, silhouettes barely resembling humans anymore. Their bodies twisted and malformed, caught in various stages of transformation. Some had elongated limbs, others jagged, bony protrusions piercing through their flesh. The beeping of machines, the dripping of fluids, the distant murmur of scientists working¡ªit all created an eerie symphony of horror. Hearing about it from Vance had been one thing. Seeing it was another. April was the first to break. ________________________________________ She vanished in an instant, a burst of Early Rank 3 essence igniting the air as she shot across the lab. A scientist, scrambling away from the frail body of a chained child, turned in terror just as she appeared before him. He opened his mouth to scream. The halberd fell. Fire erupted from the blade, consuming the air in its wake. The strike cleaved through his neck with such force that his head barely had time to detach before the pressure ignited it¡ª ¡ªit exploded into embers. His body crumpled, blood pooling beneath it, while the child, too weak to scream, could only blink up at April with dull, glassy eyes. ¡°They did this¡­ to kids.¡± Her voice trembled with fury. ¡°We¡¯re killing every last one of them.¡± A panicked scientist stumbled back, pressing a shaking hand to a control panel. ¡°Shit! They already wiped out the top floor?!¡± Another scientist, paler and far calmer, only scoffed. ¡°That¡¯s the 3rd Unit for you.¡± He turned to a subordinate. ¡°Get all the Scions available. We evacuate.¡± ________________________________________ A switch was flipped. The walls hissed and parted. Cells, hundreds of them, slid open. And from the darkness, they emerged. A grotesque horde¡ªover 200 Scions¡ªpoured forth, their bodies shuddering with raw, unstable energy. Their limbs twitched unnaturally, their jaws unhinging too wide, rows of jagged teeth snapping hungrily. Their eyes, or what was left of them, burned with endless hunger. And then, they charged. ¡°Dante, seal the walls!¡± Garrick ordered. ¡°I can¡¯t! This place is built with synthetic material¡ªI barely have any earth to work with!¡± Dante cursed. There was no choice. They had to fight. ________________________________________ Vance cracked his knuckles. His shock gauntlets roared to life, arcs of lightning dancing between his fingers. His knuckle braces ignited, flames licking at his wrists. His sparrow drones dove, their razor-sharp beaks piercing through Scion skulls. As a Scion lunged, Vance ducked low, drove his fist upward into its ribcage, sending lightning coursing through its body. The creature twitched violently before collapsing, charred beyond recognition. Selene clapped her hands together. Her sniper pistol floated into the air, and three identical replicas materialized beside it as the floated around her protecting her from all four corners. She closed both eyes. And then, the bullets rained. Ice-infused rounds tore through the horde, each one freezing their targets mid-motion before shattering them into bloodied shards. Not a single shot missed. April wove through the chaos, her halberd spinning in a blur of steel and fire. Each swing cut through multiple Scions at once, the sheer heat incinerating their wounds as they fell. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. One lunged at her from behind. She twisted, the blunt end of her weapon crushing its skull before she spun back, severing another¡¯s head in one clean motion. From his spatial ring, Dante retrieved a massive jar. The jar looked ancients as he flung it behind him. From it sand flowed out. The sand writhed looking alive. With a flick of his fingers, a tendril of sand coiled around a Scion¡¯s throat, twisting violently until its head popped. Another formed into a massive blade, cutting through multiple enemies at once. Corbin raised his hands. Wind coiled around his fingers, feeding into the flames now erupting from his palms. He slammed them together. A tornado of fire exploded outward, consuming the nearest Scions, their screams drowned beneath the roaring inferno. But they kept coming in overwhelming numbers, any other team would have already been done for but the 3rd unit, after several battles could hold their ground. ________________________________________ Garrick ignored the Scions. His spear tore through them as if they were nothing, his focus locked onto one man. The head scientist stood unfazed, typing away at his console below the scion in a special looking vat as the meter read 87%. Garrick reached the exit, where the last of the lab staff were trying to escape. He obliterated it, and quickly dispatched the scientists with ease as he turned his gaze towards a particular direction. Only the head scientist remained. He sensed the aura the man gave off as it flickered blue, a mere mid rank 2 warrior as he prepared his charge to end it all in one motion. Garrick lunged¡ªhis spear aimed for the scientist¡¯s head. But the expected head popping sound and flesh wriggling about didn''t come as the blade stopped. A mere inch away from the back of his head. The scientist barely glanced up and turned around then, he chuckled. A chilling feeling welling up in Garrick as he had a terrifying thought cross his mind: ¡°You, are you the Ashborne¡± he asked his mind trying not to think of the worse case but the scientist just stopped laughing and looked at him beginning to laugh as though he had heard the worst joke possible: ¡°Me, an Ashborne, nah, not possible¡± he said waving his hand away like that was a heretical statement. ¡°An Ashborne is someone way stronger than I am, with a lot of accomplishments towards our goal, but me, I am only an ember¡± he said as the spear was still trying to break through the barrier. ¡°Then, this should be impossible. You shouldn¡¯t be strong enough to stop my strike¡± Garrick still trying to by pass the barrier as he applied more force, but the scientist stood there laughing putting his hand on his head: ¡°Well, I should have guessed, everyone gets shocked too at first by my innate ability. It is called Infinite Space. You see, I decide the distance at which I want anything, any attack, be it liquid, solid or gas, I can decide at which point it would stop, as if I will it, your attack can get this close¡± he said as the spear began to advance slowly reaching his very face ¡°Or I can take it this far¡± he suddenly repelled, as the spear was flung several meters back as Garrick couldn¡¯t get 2 meters near him. Garrick¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Who the hell are you?¡± ¡°Dr. Ferris Isadore. Well you can just call me Ferris¡± the man responded returning back to his work as Garrick still attempted to break through but Ferris shook his head: ¡°You should know that it is futile trying anything, well unless you are as strong as an Ashborne that is to say, then that would be another story. But you¡­¡± he said slowly as he turned back to type: ¡°You are just two weak¡± Garrick¡¯s aura exploded. Royal purple essence flooded the room, crushing the remaining Scions in an instant. Ferris seeing this rather than being scared only smiled: ¡°Well don¡¯t be too mad captain Garrick of the 3rd unit we have been expecting you¡± Hearing this it felt like, cold water was poured on Garrick his danger senses tingling, as the elevator sound was heard as it opened up revealing a new entrant. And then, the elevator behind them dinged. The doors slid open. A cloaked figure stepped out. A woman. A smiley mask covering her face. No aura. No presence. But Garrick knew. She was stronger. An Ashbourne (1) There are two ways to truly recognize a power far greater than your own. The first is through pain¡ªwhen your body is broken, crushed beneath an overwhelming force, leaving no doubt that you stand before something beyond your reach. The second is through emptiness¡ªwhen no matter how hard you strain your senses, no presence, no aura, no power registers at all. When the very concept of strength is stolen from your understanding, and the unknown takes its place. This was the situation Garrick and the 3rd Unit found themselves in the moment she stepped out of the elevator. There was no blaring surge of energy, no suffocating aura that screamed of dominance. If one were careless, they might mistake her for an ordinary person¡ªjust another nameless figure draped in a cloak, her expression hidden behind that eerie, frozen smile. But Garrick knew. Deep in his gut, something primal screamed at him. Stronger. She is stronger. A warning ingrained in every warrior¡¯s instincts¡ªthe kind that meant survival depended on standing still, saying nothing, and praying not to be noticed. Dr. Ferris fell to his knees the moment the elevator doors sealed behind her. His entire body trembled, not from fear, but from worship. His hands pressed to the cold, bloodstained floor, his head bowed so low that his forehead nearly touched it. His voice, though shaken with reverence, carried an almost religious fervor. ¡°Oh, great Ashborne¡­ I am truly not worthy to be in your presence.¡± Hearing this the whole team froze, an Ashborne, there was truly an Ashborne around, this was the worse possible scenario that they were hoping to avoid. Dr. Ferris continued as his breath hitched, and yet he forced himself to continue, his words tumbling out in near desperation. ¡°You, who walk above us, who exist beyond the reach of ordinary men¡­ you have deemed my hands incapable, my resolve insufficient. And so, in your boundless mercy, you have come here personally to correct my failings.¡± A shudder ran through him as he dared to lift his gaze, but the smile on her mask¡ªunchanging, unreadable, unknowable¡ªmade his stomach twist. ¡°Forgive my shortcomings. Forgive my weakness. I am but an ember flickering in your shadow, incapable of grasping the vastness of your flame.¡± His fingers curled into fists against the floor, as though to ground himself from the sheer weight of her presence. ¡°Speak but a word, and I shall obey. Command me, and I shall see it done. Take my life if it pleases you, for even in death, it would be an honor to serve.¡± Silence. Dr. Ferris did not move. He did not breathe. He only awaited judgment. Ferris trembled on his knees, forehead pressed to the cold metal floor as the woman before him tilted her head ever so slightly. Then, a soft, amused voice filled the air, carrying an unsettling warmth beneath its weight. ¡°Ferris, you know¡­ I really admire you a lot.¡± The scientist flinched as though the words alone held a physical force. ¡°If only all Embers were half as useful as you are, then we wouldn¡¯t be having so many little inconveniences like this.¡± Her head lifted, her masked gaze locking onto the 3rd Unit. The moment her focus shifted, every instinct in their bodies screamed danger. Without thinking, the entire team moved into defensive stances. She chuckled. A slow, knowing laugh that sent a chill down their spines. ¡°Well, well¡­ the infamous 3rd Unit.¡± She spread her arms as if welcoming them. ¡°You all sure know how to make a mess. How many bases has it been so far?¡± She lifted her fingers, lazily pretending to count, before giving up entirely and sighing in mock exasperation. ¡°Ah¡ªdoesn¡¯t matter.¡± CRACK. She rolled her shoulders, her knuckles popping as she twisted her waist, muscles flexing under her cloak. Her next words were spoken without urgency. Without care. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. ¡°You¡¯re all going to die anyway.¡± Vance acted immediately. The moment she finished speaking, his sparrow drones erupted from his spatial ring, forming an electrified barrier around her. The energy pulsated, an intricate web of light weaving between the drones, sealing off her movements. For the first time since stepping out of the elevator¡ªshe paused. Not in fear. Not in shock. But in mild amusement. Vance¡¯s voice was sharp, resolute as he strained every muscle in his body, pouring his essence into the trap. ¡°You might be an Ashborne, maybe even a Rank 4¡­ but you¡¯re nothing if you can¡¯t use your essence.¡± His eyes burned with determination. She giggled. Not laughed. Giggled. Like a child who had just discovered something entertaining. ¡°Ah¡­ Vance, right? The one with the toys.¡± The air grew heavy. Something shifted. The metal floor beneath them trembled. The sound was subtle at first¡ªa deep, distant hum vibrating through their bones. Then¡ª SCREEEEEECH! A violent shriek ripped through the underground base as jagged metal spikes erupted from the floor at blinding speeds, striking the barrier with inhuman precision. BZZZT! The drones short-circuited. The moment before they exploded, she was gone. A blur. A whisper of movement. Then¡ªVance was in her grasp. Her fingers wrapped effortlessly around his throat, lifting him into the air like a ragdoll. ¡°NO, VANCE!¡± The team roared in unison, bodies snapping into motion. Dante¡¯s sand spiraled violently from his artifact, moving to coil around her arm. Selene¡¯s ice guns fragmented, shifting into sniper parts as she reassembled them into a singular, monstrous rifle. April launched forward, her halberd a streak of fire. Corbin boosted himself with wind, closing the distance. Garrick¡¯s spear was already aimed for her heart. For a split second¡ªthey believed they could reach her. Then¡ªmetal shrieked again. The air itself seemed to collapse inward as her power surged. BANG! A deafening metallic roar ripped through the battlefield. The sand froze mid-motion, encased in solid iron, sealing the artifact shut. Selene¡¯s sniper rifle twisted violently, the metal in its frame warping as spikes shot through her arms, piercing straight through flesh and bone. CRASH! Corbin and April were sent flying, thick metal bands snapping around their ankles, hurling them like ragdolls against the walls. Their bones cracked. THUNK. Garrick never reached her. His spear halted mid-strike¡ªtwisting violently¡ªbefore a thick coil of steel wrapped around his body, yanking him to the ground, pinning him beneath sheer force. One move. In one move, she had dismantled the entire 3rd Unit. All without releasing a single hint of killing intent. The only sound left was Vance choking, kicking desperately as she held him aloft. Garrick thrashed violently against his restraints, voice raw with desperation. ¡°DON¡¯T DO IT! PLEASE! TAKE ME INSTEAD!¡± His metal bindings groaned under his struggling. Vance stopped kicking. His eyes¡ªonce burning with resistance¡ªdimmed. He turned his head just enough to look at Garrick, a small, tired smile on his face. ¡°¡­Boss.¡± His voice was weak. ¡°This might be it for me. But I¡¯ll¡­ make sure you guys get out of here.¡± Garrick¡¯s heart stopped. A glow began to form around Vance. His remaining drones burst from his spatial ring, latching onto the surrounding walls, pulsing brighter and brighter. A self-destruction protocol. Kamikaze. He was sacrificing himself. ¡°¡­Vance, no¡­¡± Garrick whispered, pure horror in his voice. But then¡ªthe light dimmed. The glow died. The drones¡­ fizzled out. Garrick¡¯s eyes widened in horror as he saw why. Vance¡¯s head fell from his shoulders. A single strip of sharpened metal hovered beside her, dripping crimson. Vance¡¯s lifeless body crumpled to the floor. Silence. A silence so deep it rang louder than any scream. The 3rd Unit froze. Their minds refused to process what they had just seen. Then¡ª She clicked her tongue. A casual, playful sound. ¡°¡­Wait.¡± Her voice was mocking. Playful. ¡°Did you all really think I was stupid enough to let him do something like that?¡± She tilted her head, smiling behind that wretched mask. The world came crashing down all at once. ¡°VANCE!!!¡± The scream tore through the base, the sound filled with raw agony. Garrick roared so loud the very walls trembled. Selene¡¯s sobs were silent, her lips moving, but no sound came out. April struggled against her restraints, her wrists bleeding as she clawed against the steel bindings. Dante¡¯s teeth ground together so hard they threatened to shatter. Corbin, for the first time, had no words. Vance was dead. And they were still trapped with the monster who killed him. Ashborne (2) The basement was filled with echoes of agony. Vance¡¯s lifeless body lay on the cold metal floor, the warmth of his blood seeping into the cracks, his head severed cleanly from his shoulders. Garrick¡¯s roars shook the very walls, his throat raw as he thrashed against the metallic restraints that bound him. His muscles bulged, veins pulsing, but the steel did not yield. Corbin and April twisted against their restraints, their ankles bound to the floor by thick bands of metal. Selene¡¯s eyes burned with rage, her breath sharp and uneven. She blew gently onto her bleeding arms, freezing the wounds shut. Her hands trembled, but not from pain¡ªfrom pure, unfiltered hatred. Dante, jaw clenched so tightly his teeth threatened to break, slammed his artifact onto the ground. Sand burst forth in a raging torrent, swirling violently as he directed it toward his teammates, attempting to free them. Then, she moved. The woman who had effortlessly dismantled them all. The woman who had cut down Vance without hesitation. She stepped onto his corpse, grinding her heel against his chest as if he were nothing more than discarded trash. Then, with an exaggerated sigh, she placed a hand over her ear. ¡°Come on, you guys. You¡¯re being so fucking loud.¡± Garrick snarled, pure rage burning in his veins. She ignored him, turning instead to Dr. Ferris, who still knelt in reverence, awaiting her orders. His body trembled, not in fear, but in worship. ¡°Focus on getting the Scion to completion. I¡¯ll deal with this.¡± Ferris bowed lower, his forehead pressing to the ground. ¡°Yes, my lady.¡± She turned back to Garrick, amusement flickering behind that eerie, broken mask. With a mere flick of her wrist, the metal constraining him surged upward, lifting him into the air. His feet dangled helplessly. She brought him closer, her lips curling into something between a smile and a sneer. ¡°You and your little squad are like rats.¡± Her voice was almost¡­ playful. ¡°Always scurrying around, destroying our bases, running the moment we get close. Do you know how annoying that is?¡± She traced a single finger along his face, reveling in the fury she felt radiating off him. ¡°Do you know how boring it is to be in my position? No one strong enough to challenge me. No entertainment. Just dull, meaningless paperwork.¡± She sighed dramatically. ¡°I should really be thanking you.¡± Garrick struggled, his body trembling with rage. He wanted to tear her apart, to rip through her flesh, to make her bleed for what she had done. Then¡ª BOOM! A thunderous explosion rang through the room. The woman tilted her head slightly, and a massive 50-caliber ice bullet ripped past her cheek, shattering a portion of her mask. A piece of it clattered to the floor. ¡°Get your filthy claws off our captain.¡± Selene stood at the far end of the room, her hands gripping a massive ice-forged sniper rifle, glowing with a dangerous purple glint. For the first time since arriving, the woman¡¯s expression shifted. The exposed half of her face¡ª Garrick¡¯s breath caught in his throat. He knew that face. But his mind refused to accept it. She saw the flicker of recognition in his eyes and smiled. ¡°Ah¡­ I guess the gig is up.¡± With a slow, deliberate motion, she placed her hand on her mask and shattered the rest of it. Her full face was revealed. Garrick¡¯s stomach dropped. His mind screamed in denial. ¡°No¡­¡± She laughed softly. ¡°Oh, Garrick. You really are a good man, aren¡¯t you?¡± Her gaze held nothing but cruel amusement. ¡°I loved watching you play hero. Jumping in to save the day.¡± His hands trembled. The mother. The desperate woman who had begged for his help. The woman whose child had been stolen. It had all been a lie. She smiled wider, relishing the moment. ¡°I had to set the perfect trap, after all.¡± Her voice dripped with mock sympathy. ¡°I knew the moment you heard about my presence, you¡¯d hesitate. Hide. Wait for reinforcements like the coward you are.¡± The reality crashed down upon him. They had been played. Everything¡ªthe crying mother, the abduction, the mission¡ªhad been orchestrated to lead them here. And now, they were trapped. BOOM! Another shot rang out. She didn¡¯t dodge. Instead, she turned and caught the bullet with two fingers. A moment later¡ªshe flicked it back. The bullet pierced through Selene¡¯s skull. Her head exploded into frozen shards. Silence. The team froze. The scent of blood and ice filled the air. She exhaled, shaking her head. ¡°She was really starting to piss me off.¡± Then, she smiled. A cruel, wicked smile. Garrick''s world shattered. April¡¯s hands tightened around her halberd. Corbin¡¯s body trembled with unrestrained fury. Dante¡¯s sand vibrated, his control barely holding back the storm inside him. They couldn¡¯t think. Couldn¡¯t breathe. Selene was gone. Corbin breathed in sharply. Then¡ªhe moved. With a single, brutal motion, he used his wind to slice straight through his own ankle. Blood splattered against the ground. April did the same, using her flaming halberd to burn through the restraints. Their minds were blank. There was no strategy. No plan. Only rage. The woman clapped her hands together. ¡°Now, that¡¯s more like it.¡± The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Her grin stretched wider. ¡°Come on then. Entertain me.¡± Blood pooled beneath their feet. April and Corbin stood, breathless, fighting against their own bodies as much as they fought against her. Their missing ankles left them unbalanced, yet they did not waver. The pain was a dull roar at the edge of their minds, drowned by rage, by grief, by the unrelenting need for vengeance. The Ashborne only smiled. She rolled her shoulders, cracking her neck as she twirled her fingers, metal strands slithering through the air like living serpents. Yet, she didn¡¯t attack¡ªnot seriously. She was playing. Mocking them. April moved first. Her flaming halberd carved a searing arc through the air, the embers from her weapon sparking like a firestorm. She lunged, her blade seeking flesh, but the Ashborne tilted her head just enough to avoid the strike. Too slow. Corbin was already behind her. A gale of wind propelled him forward, his hands ablaze with twisting fire, his speed unrelenting. He struck, a powerful wind-enhanced flame punch aimed for the side of her ribs. She twisted her torso, dodging just enough to avoid the full force of the blow, yet some of the flames licked her cloak, scorching the fabric. Her eyebrows rose in mild amusement. April pressed forward. The halberd twirled in her grip, her entire body moving in fluid, controlled arcs, every motion pushing her deeper into the attack. Corbin followed, his fire and wind blending seamlessly with April¡¯s deadly precision. For the first time, the Ashborne moved defensively. She raised her metallic arm, deflecting the halberd''s strike as flames burst against her skin, but she didn¡¯t seem affected. Corbin¡¯s wind-enhanced strikes followed, forcing her back. The room was a blur of searing flames and slicing winds, the sheer heat warping the air itself. April¡¯s burning blade clashed with the Ashborne¡¯s forearm, sparks and molten steel hissing on contact. Corbin¡¯s flames exploded from below, forcing her to leap into the air. April and Corbin didn¡¯t let up. They moved in perfect unison. A dance of fire and steel. Every time she dodged April¡¯s halberd, Corbin¡¯s wind pushed the weapon faster. Every time she evaded Corbin¡¯s flames, April¡¯s weapon was there to meet her. For a moment¡ªjust a fleeting second¡ªit almost seemed possible. Almost. And then¡ª She sighed. A metal tendril lashed out from the floor, slamming into April¡¯s stomach, sending her skidding backward. Before Corbin could react, sharp bands of metal shot up from the ground, slicing through the air like whips. He barely dodged. His only remaining foot barely touched the ground before a metallic blade followed, aiming straight for his throat. He twisted, flames erupting around him as he redirected the metal away. But in that moment of distraction¡ªApril was already lost. The Ashborne moved towards her. April tried to push herself up, her halberd still ablaze. She swung wildly. The Ashborne caught the blade with her bare hand. April¡¯s eyes widened. The flames did nothing. The Ashborne grinned. Metal wrapped around her forearm. It shifted. Changed. Became something monstrous. A drill. It whirred violently, spinning at an unnatural speed. And then¡ª She punched forward. The drill tore through April¡¯s lower jaw, shattering it instantly, pulverizing teeth and bone. April screamed. Blood and shattered bone sprayed into the air, her body convulsing violently as the drill tore through her throat, burrowing deeper, devouring flesh and tissue. Her eyes¡ªwide, filled with agony¡ªlocked onto Corbin. Then¡ª The drill burst out through her back. A sickening crunch. A gurgled breath. April¡¯s eyes rolled back as her body went limp. The Ashborne ripped her arm free, letting the broken corpse slump to the ground. Blood splattered across her face. She licked her lips. Corbin roared. His body became a blur, wind and fire melding into a hurricane of destruction. He didn¡¯t care if it killed him. He had to kill her. The Ashborne laughed. She lifted her hand¡ªand the floor exploded. A single razor-sharp tendril of metal whipped forward, slicing through the air faster than his wind could carry him. It slashed across his remaining foot. Corbin collapsed. He hit the ground, bleeding out, helpless. And then¡ªshe pinned him down. Ensuring he couldn''t move. Ensuring he could do nothing but stare. Corbin¡¯s eyes locked onto Garrick. Garrick couldn¡¯t breathe. His best friend. His oldest friend. Corbin¡¯s chest rose and fell, ragged, weak. He didn¡¯t blink. Didn¡¯t look away. She wanted Garrick to see him. One last time. The Ashborne raised her hand. Metal twisted, sharpened, reshaped into a single, gleaming blade. She lowered it against Corbin¡¯s throat. She smirked. And with one, smooth motion¡ª She sliced his head clean off. Blood sprayed in an arc, staining the ground. His head rolled, stopping just before Garrick¡¯s feet. His eyes remained open. Garrick shook. His body refused to move. The Ashborne sighed happily. Then, she bent down, dragging her finger through the fresh pool of blood. She lifted it to her lips. Licked. She moaned. ¡°Delicious.¡± Then, her eyes slowly met Garrick¡¯s. And he could do nothing but stare. Ashborne (3) ¡°Captain, get out now!¡± Dante¡¯s voice was sharp, edged with urgency, but Garrick wasn¡¯t moving. His body had frozen, his mind shattered, trapped in the horrific loop of Corbin¡¯s brutal execution. The blood-streaked floor, the vacant stare of his closest friend, the taunting voice of the Ashborne still lingering in the air. He couldn¡¯t move. But Dante couldn¡¯t wait. Sand surged like a living beast, wrapping around the Ashborne in an instant. She had been toying with them for too long, too engrossed in her sadistic amusement. For the first time, she was caught off guard. The granules hardened, forming a dome-like prison around her, layers upon layers compacting together, trapping her inside. With a swift motion, Dante directed a thin stream of sand toward Garrick, forming a circular sawblade. It moved with deadly precision, slicing through the metal bindings, snapping them apart in a single fluid motion. Garrick collapsed onto the ground, but still, he did not move. ¡°Come on, Cap, MOVE! I can¡¯t keep her locked away for long!¡± Dante¡¯s voice was strained, his veins bulging as he poured every ounce of Mana into reinforcing the sand prison. His vision blurred slightly, his Mana burning away at an alarming rate. The dome began to crack. Inside, a soft chuckle echoed. A deep, dark amusement. ¡°You¡­¡± her voice slithered through the fractures. ¡°¡­I really like that sand of yours.¡± The cracks widened, faint glimmers of metal glinting through the fractures. Her tone shifted, growing sharp, predatory. ¡°¡­But how long can you entertain me?¡± Then¡ªthe dome exploded. Dante barely reacted in time, his sand shifting beneath his feet, carrying him away from the rain of shattered granules and twisted metal. She had shattered his strongest defense with a mere flex of power. She was done playing passive. The entire battlefield twisted in her control, metal slithering from the ground like living vines, razor-sharp edges gleaming beneath the dim underground light. Dante moved. His body glided low, sand wrapping around his legs, making his movements unnaturally swift. Every time her metal spears lunged toward him, he was already gone, weaving through the storm of death. The Ashborne tilted her head, watching him with mild curiosity. ¡°You¡¯re fast,¡± she mused. ¡°I like fast.¡± Dante¡¯s sand struck, whipping toward her like a coiling serpent. She barely dodged, but the tip of the attack caught her ankle, twisting around it. Dante smirked. The moment he had been waiting for. With a single thought, the sand spun violently, slamming her into the ground with crushing force. The impact cracked the metal beneath her, the entire lab trembling. For a brief moment, there was silence. Then¡ª She laughed. A long, slow chuckle that sent a wave of dread through Dante¡¯s chest. She lifted her head, her eyes burning with delight. Blood smeared across her lips. And then she smiled¡ªa gruesome, bloody grin. ¡°That¡¯s more like it.¡± The metal beneath her shivered. Dante¡¯s gut clenched as his sand retreated instinctively, sensing the sheer force radiating from her. Then¡ªthe entire battlefield darkened. From every corner of the underground, metal spikes rose. Hundreds of them, sharpened into lethal spears, hovering ominously above him like the swords of an executioner. The Ashborne lifted a single hand. The air crackled with unseen energy. ¡°Let¡¯s see how long your pretty sand can last.¡± She snapped her fingers. The spikes descended. Like a metallic hailstorm. Dante¡¯s sand exploded outward, forming a massive shield around him. The moment the metal clashed against the barrier, the entire battlefield roared. CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! Each impact sent shockwaves through his body. His sand thinned with every second, grains shattering under the sheer force of the assault. Dante clenched his fists, teeth grinding. ¡°Shit¡­ I need to do something fast before my Mana runs out.¡± More and more of his sand shifted to the front, reinforcing the barrier, leaving his backside dangerously unprotected. And then he turned¡ª His eyes met Garrick¡¯s, who was still motionless, still drowning in shock. ¡°Captain, pull yourself together! Get out of here! We can¡¯t beat her¡ª¡± A whisper. A shift in the air. A sense of pure dread. Dante¡¯s entire body locked up. From behind him, a voice. Cold. Amused. Patient. ¡°With all that effort defending your front and talking¡­¡± A breath against his ear. Close. Too close. ¡°¡­How much mana do you have left to defend your back?¡± His heart stopped. He turned¡ª Too late. Her fist, wrapped in glimmering metal, plunged through his back. Tearing through muscle. Through bone. His entire body arched violently, his breath vanishing in a strangled gasp. Something warm dripped from his lips. His heart was in her grasp. His sand collapsed instantly, the grains falling uselessly to the ground, lifeless. The metal shards around him froze midair, hovering like a sea of deadly needles. She exhaled. A long, satisfied sigh. Then¡ªshe ripped her hand back. His heart came with it. Dante¡¯s body twitched violently, the last flicker of life fading from his gaze. He collapsed forward, chest gaping open, blood pouring onto the floor. His lifeless eyes landed on Garrick. Empty. Pleading. Garrick didn¡¯t move. His body was locked in place. Paralyzed. She flicked the still-beating heart into the air, watching it with mild curiosity before¡ª Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. She threw it. It rolled across the ground. Stopping right before Garrick. His fingers twitched. His breathing shallow. He stared at it. And then, slowly¡ªhis eyes lifted to meet hers. His voice was barely a whisper. ¡°¡­Why?¡± The Ashborne tilted her head, her expression shifting from amusement to exaggerated mockery as she cupped a hand around her ear. ¡°Huh? I can¡¯t hear you.¡± Her voice dripped with condescension, her lips curling in a cruel, teasing smirk. ¡°Come on now, Garrick, speak up. A little louder for me.¡± Garrick¡¯s throat burned as he forced the words from his chest, his voice raw, heavy with rage and grief. ¡°Why¡­ why all this? What do you gain from doing such things?¡± The Ashborne¡¯s shoulders quivered slightly, and for a moment, silence hung between them. Then¡ª Laughter. It exploded from her, loud and manic, the sound bouncing off the cold steel walls, cutting through the weight of death that lingered in the air. It was unhinged, unrestrained, devoid of remorse. Garrick¡¯s stomach churned as he felt something beyond power radiating from her¡ªpure, unwavering madness. She dragged her gaze back to him, her eyes gleaming beneath her mask, her lips stretching into something terrifying. ¡°Why, you ask?¡± She extended her arms outwards, as if welcoming the very chaos and destruction she had caused. ¡°Purely for entertainment.¡± Garrick¡¯s breath hitched. She let out another laugh, spinning on her heel with exaggerated delight, her arms waving dramatically in the air as if performing before an invisible audience. ¡°Why else does anyone need to live, if not to be entertained by life itself?¡± Her voice was sharp, theatrical, filled with deranged excitement. She stepped forward, gliding through the battlefield untouched by the blood that stained the floor. The metal floating around her began to shift, twisting and bending into intricate patterns. Letters formed in the air¡ªone after another¡ªuntil a single word materialized before Garrick¡¯s eyes. ENTERTAINMENT. Her fingers traced the air beneath the glowing metal letters, her nails tapping against them as though they were real, tangible things. ¡°Artists sing to entertain their audience.¡± Her voice lowered, almost hypnotic. ¡°Painters create their masterpieces to enthrall those who gaze upon them. Actors, performers, musicians¡ªthey all devote themselves to their craft, to the stage, to the endless pursuit of applause.¡± She paused, her smile widening, her gaze sharpening into something far more terrifying. ¡°And warriors like us?¡± Her metal letters twisted violently, reforming into the shape of weapons¡ªswords, axes, spears, all floating in perfect synchronicity. ¡°We exist to fight. To bleed. To kill. To entertain one another with our strength.¡± She stepped closer to Garrick, tilting her head as if studying him, as if savoring his grief. ¡°That is why I honor you and your little team.¡± Her voice softened, becoming something almost affectionate. ¡°By lowering myself to your level. By fighting you as you are. Because that¡­ is where I find the most entertainment.¡± She gestured upward, and the floating weapons in the air disassembled, forming the word strength by twisting strands of metal. A slow, boiling rage ignited within Garrick. Each word she spoke was like a hammer, striking against the fragile control he had left. His body trembled, his fingers twitching toward his spear. His pulse pounded like a war drum, his vision blurred at the edges, but it was not from fear. It was from something deeper. Something darker. His lips curled into a snarl as he spoke, his voice low, guttural, dangerous. ¡°So you¡¯re telling me¡­ that all of this¡ª¡± he gestured to the bodies of his fallen comrades, the blood that painted the walls, the countless innocent children experimented on, discarded, butchered¡ª¡°all this suffering, this loss of life¡­ all of it was just because you wanted to be entertained?¡± His hands clenched around the familiar grip of his spear. His knees, once weighted by grief, lifted from the cold steel ground. The air thickened. A slow, subtle shift at first, but the room began to feel heavier, suffocating. The Ashborne¡¯s smile never wavered. If anything, it grew wider, her eyes twinkling with unrestrained anticipation. Garrick rose from the ground. But he did not stand. He floated. His aura exploded, a swirling maelstrom of royal purple essence bursting outward, shaking the very foundations of the room. His veins glowed, his body pulsing with unnatural energy. He was burning through his life force. A skill¡ªa desperate, all-consuming technique¡ªmeant for warriors who had nothing left to lose. The Ashborne watched, entranced. Her hands slowly lifted, her body trembling¡ªnot from fear, but from excitement. From sheer, unfiltered delight. She licked her lips. ¡°Oh¡­¡± she exhaled softly. ¡°¡­Now, this is interesting.¡± Garrick hovered above the battlefield, his spear gripped tightly, his essence so thick it distorted the very air around him. His expression was unreadable, his eyes dark, hollow, filled with something far beyond simple fury. His voice dropped to a chilling whisper, carrying through the air with an unmistakable finality. ¡°If entertainment is what you seek¡­¡± His spear pulsed with raw, uncontained energy, the blade glowing like a dying star. ¡°¡­Then come. I¡¯ll give you a show you¡¯ll never forget.¡± The Ashborne¡¯s head tilted back, her arms spreading wide as her laughter rang through the room, filled with nothing but sheer, overwhelming ecstasy. Garrick’s Final Stand The ground trembled beneath Garrick¡¯s feet, dust and debris swirling in the wake of his rising aura. His body was battered, wounds lining his arms, but his grip on his spear was unwavering. The tip of the weapon, stained in fresh blood, pulsed with an unnatural glow. It thrived off the damage he had taken, storing the pain, the force, the very essence of his suffering¡ªwaiting for the perfect moment to release it. Across from him, the Ashborne stood, her form wreathed in twisting strands of molten steel. The metal swirled around her like living tendrils, forming an exoskeleton of silver and black armor, spikes protruding along her shoulders, bracers reinforcing her arms. The faintest smirk played across her lips. ¡°You still stand?¡± Her voice was filled with twisted amusement. ¡°Even after all this, you still have fight left in you?¡± Garrick didn¡¯t answer. He simply launched forward. His spear screamed through the air, the force of his charge rupturing the ground beneath him. The Ashborne barely had time to shift as he thrust forward, his weapon¡¯s tip exploding with a burst of fire. She twisted, her armor reinforcing at the last second, blocking the impact. BOOM! The force sent shockwaves rippling through the underground chamber, cracking the very foundation of the lab. Yet, Garrick did not let up. He pivoted, his spear moving faster than sight, cutting through the armor plating over her ribs. The moment the blade connected, it released stored damage, a burst of concentrated energy blasting through her armor. The Ashborne¡¯s body jerked violently to the side, her smirk faltering for the first time. The pain registered. But then she laughed. ¡°Good, good! Finally, you¡¯re making me feel something!¡± Her hands shot forward, metal whips surging toward him, curving mid-air like predators seeking their prey. Garrick spun, his spear tracing arcs of fire as he intercepted the attack, slashing through the first set of bindings before another wrapped around his ankle, yanking him off the ground. He reacted swiftly by slicing off his foot freeing himself from her metallic grip. The Ashborne raised her other hand, and a wall of spikes erupted from the floor, aiming to impale him mid-air. Garrick twisted, rotating his body in mid-flight, his spear igniting once more. WHOOSH! The weapon released another stored blast, incinerating the incoming spikes, sending him flying back just in time to land on his feet. Dr. Ferris, still inside the collapsing lab, watched through the shimmering barrier of Infinite Space, his body completely untouched by the destruction. His hands remained steady over the console, ensuring the Scion experiment remained undisturbed. ¡°This level of combat strength¡­ It far exceeds my calculations.¡± His eyes gleamed as he analyzed Garrick¡¯s movements. ¡°A Peak Rank 3 burning through his life force, reaching temporary Rank 4 capabilities¡­ Interesting. Even I would struggle to battle against that but ultimately, futile.¡± The Ashborne was done playing. Her hand lifted, and the very ceiling of the underground base crumbled. The earth above gave way, buildings, streets, and debris cascading into the depths, the hospital collapsing as the battle surged above ground. BOOM! The city trembled as the two warriors burst into the open air, their fight spilling into the streets of Doitand. The civilians who had once roamed its bustling avenues were already fleeing in terror, screams piercing through the devastation. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Garrick barely had a moment to breathe before she was on him again. Her arms shot forward, twisting shards of metal ripping through the earth itself, spears, swords, jagged daggers forming from the very environment around them. Garrick weaved through the incoming onslaught, his spear a blur of destruction. He cleaved through blades, dodged spikes, and countered every metal construct that sought to impale him. The fire from his spear left scorching trails in its wake. Yet, the Ashborne was only getting started. Her aura began to flicker, a deep, crimson hue leaking into the air, spiraling around her form. Garrick¡¯s heart pounded. He had felt it before¡ªthe pressure of a true Rank 4. The streets buckled under the weight of her essence. She lifted her hands, and the sky darkened. The metal from the entire center of the town twisted into the air, blotting out the heavens, forming a colossus of death above them. Everything in a 100-square-kilometer radius was drawn into her influence. Buildings shattered. Metal ripped through structures, impaling anything unfortunate enough to be nearby. People screamed as jagged shards pierced through flesh. Blood ran like rivers through the streets of Doitand. Casualties. Uncountable. Garrick could only watch, horror burning through his soul. This¡­ was the power of a Rank 4. And yet, even as death surrounded him, as despair gripped the city, his flames did not flicker. He roared. His body surged forward, dodging through the labyrinth of blades that sought to end him. His spear pulsed, absorbing more damage, more pain. He ignored the wounds, ignored the agony¡ªbecause if he stopped, he was dead. The Ashborne¡¯s laughter echoed through the ruined city. ¡°Garrick, Garrick, Garrick! Do you see it now?¡± She extended her arms outward, motioning to the carnage she had wrought. ¡°The gap between us?¡± She curled her fingers, and more weapons formed from the sky, layering onto her armor, reinforcing her form. Garrick struck. His spear pierced through the thickened plating, sending a fiery explosion through her chest. She staggered, her smirk faltering for the first time. Her gaze snapped to her arm¡ªburned. Charred, her armor melted away where the spear had struck her. Her eyes widened. Not from pain¡ªbut realization. ¡°So that¡¯s it.¡± Her head tilted, analyzing the wound that was hurting more than it should have. ¡°Your life force¡­ so because you¡¯re burning it the effect of your attacks are more dangerous even to someone like me.¡± For the first time, she was on the back foot. Garrick didn¡¯t let up. He became a blur, his spear striking in rapid succession, every hit delivering the full weight of his suffering, his flames blazing hotter than ever before. The Ashborne clicked her tongue. Her Rank 4 aura surged, the air distorting under her pressure. And then she grinned. ¡°Yes¡­ YES! This is it!¡± Her laughter turned into an ecstatic cry as her true aura burst forth, sending shockwaves that flattened everything within kilometers. Her eyes gleamed. ¡°Come, Garrick. Let me show you the great chasm between us.¡± And with that, she unleashed hell. Perfect Scion The end had come. Garrick¡¯s body trembled violently, his muscles failing, his breath shallow, and yet, he still fought to move. Blood pooled beneath him, mixing with the shattered debris and molten steel that had once been part of Doitand¡¯s streets. His spear, the weapon that had been his lifeline, burned dimly in his grip, its power flickering like a dying flame. He had exhausted everything¡ªhis strength, his essence, his life force¡ªall spent in a futile battle against the abyss. And yet, he had fought. His body screamed with pain, but he still swung his spear, releasing bursts of fire whenever he could, the energy roaring against the overwhelming tide of metal. Yet, every attack came at a cost. A sword of steel pierced through his thigh. He staggered but did not fall. Not yet. A jagged spear ripped through his side, a blade slashed across his back, the wounds piling up, each one tearing away what little he had left. Yet, he did not stop. His spear flared, releasing another destructive blast. But it was weaker. The Ashborne merely laughed, watching with giddy delight as his body crumbled under the weight of her unrelenting assault. Then¡ªhis legs buckled. His body collapsed, multiple blades lodged into his flesh, his blood painting the battlefield. The Ashborne levitated downward, her armor peeling away piece by piece, metal shards falling to the ground with dull clangs. She walked toward him slowly, each step echoing ominously in the quiet devastation. Garrick gasped for breath, his vision swimming. She knelt before him, her head tilting in mock sympathy. ¡°So that¡¯s it, Garrick?¡± Her voice was laced with sarcasm, her grin wide and mocking. ¡°So that¡¯s how much your life is worth?¡± She clicked her tongue, shaking her head as if disappointed. ¡°Just a single round. Damn. That¡¯s insulting.¡± But then¡ªa sound. A single footstep. A deep, masculine voice cut through the air like a blade. ¡°Enough with the silly play. Wrap it up.¡± The Ashborne froze. Then¡ªshe fell to her knees. Garrick turned, every fiber of his being screaming as he forced himself to look. Then¡ªhe saw him. A man. A face he knew too well. His blood ran cold. Garrick¡¯s lips trembled as he tried to form words, tried to force the impossible truth out of his mouth. ¡°You¡­ you are a part of them? You are an Ashborne, Sir¡ª¡± He never finished. Cube-like lines appeared across his vision. Then¡ª His head was diced apart. The skill was instant. Unseen. The man had not even moved. A little circular pendant fell out from his pocket as it open up, a little picture of himself and Zara on a date on it soaking up his blood. The Ashborne turned her head, grinning at the spectacle. ¡°Awww, you know that skill of yours gives me the creeps.¡± She shuddered dramatically, wrapping her arms around herself as if to ward off a chill. The man simply stepped back to avoid being stained by Garrick¡¯s blood, before reaching for his mask. A simple, white smiley mask. ¡°Not an Ashborne.¡± His voice was smooth, cold, absolute replying as though to correct a mistake ¡°An Infernal.¡± The Ashborne pouted. ¡°Sweetheart, is there any need to put your mask back on? It¡¯s over.¡± She teased, gesturing toward it lazily. The Infernal tilted his head. ¡°You know you also look horrible with that face disguise of yours, right?¡± The Ashborne¡¯s lips curled into a pout, her fingers brushing against her cheek in mock insult. ¡°Hmph. That was uncalled for.¡± The Infernal ignored her, his gaze shifting to Dr. Ferris Isadore. The scientist, still kneeling, lowered his head in reverence. ¡°Oh great Infernal¡ª¡± The Infernal raised a hand. ¡°If you start, you wouldn¡¯t finish.¡± Dr. Ferris shivered, nodding furiously. ¡°Y-Yes, sir.¡± The Infernal¡¯s eyes flicked to the glowing Vat Container, where the Scion experiment remained in a fetal position, pulsing with unnatural energy. ¡°Tell me about the progress.¡± Dr. Ferris¡¯s face lit up with enthusiasm, his fear replaced by pure scientific zeal. ¡°This, sir, is our greatest breakthrough. I call it the Perfect Scion.¡± He gestured to the creature inside, his eyes gleaming with fanaticism. ¡°A perfect disaster. A force unlike anything before it.¡± The Ashborne crossed her arms, her smirk fading slightly. ¡°How perfect?¡± Dr. Ferris laughed. ¡°Imagine¡­ a disaster with Alpha Rank strength or beyond.¡± The Infernal¡¯s mask tilted slightly. ¡°Beyond?¡± Dr. Ferris nodded fervently. ¡°This Scion, unlike others, will grow without limit. Every opponent it faces, it''s strength begins to rise exponentially. Given time, in a battle it could stand above even the Alpha ranks.¡± This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. The Ashborne whistled. ¡°Well, now I¡¯m interested.¡± The Infernal¡¯s voice remained unreadable. ¡°Any flaws?¡± Dr. Ferris hesitated. ¡°Yes¡­ currently, its durability is unstable. Before reaching Rank 4, it will begin to disintegrate. But! But I can stabilize the process in time!¡± The Infernal was silent for a long moment. Then, he nodded. ¡°Good. But we don¡¯t have time.¡± His gaze lifted toward the ruined sky. ¡°Reinforcements will come. And I have no interest in dealing with Lucien right now.¡± He turned to the Ashborne. ¡°We¡¯re done here. Set the Scion loose. Wipe this town off the map.¡± Dr. Ferris¡¯s breath caught in his throat. ¡°Wait¡ªyou mean to¡ª?¡± ¡°Burn it. Leave no one alive.¡± The Ashborne grinned. ¡°Now you¡¯re speaking my language.¡± ________________________________________ Back in the Duke¡¯s office, Lucien sat at his desk, quill gliding across parchment with meticulous precision. Despite the presence of advanced technology¡ªcomputers, holographic displays, and digital archives¡ªhe preferred the quiet art of writing by hand. The glow of an elegant desk lamp cast a warm light over his documents, the occasional flicker of neon lights from the city skyline outside reflecting against the vast office windows. The night was still. Then¡ª Something felt off. A shift in the air. A faint, indescribable wrongness. Lucien¡¯s hand froze mid-stroke. His gaze darkened slightly, an almost imperceptible frown forming on his face. The feeling¡ªelusive but suffocating¡ªtightened around him. Then, at that very moment¡ª The telephone rang. The sharp sound cut through the silence, ringing out with an eerie weight. Lucien reached for it slowly, lifting the receiver to his ear. The moment he heard the words spoken on the other end, his entire body tensed. Then¡ª BOOM. His aura erupted. A force like an unseen storm surged outward. The entire manor trembled violently, as though struck by an invisible calamity. ________________________________________ Outside the manor¡­ The estate was a blend of modern architecture and traditional grandeur. Sleek black cars lined the illuminated driveways, their surfaces gleaming under the glow of automated street lamps. A few personal guards patrolled the perimeter, their suits pristine, earpieces blinking with faint blue lights as they received updates from security feeds. Beyond the main roads, stables housed not just elite horses but also high-speed hoverbikes and sleek private vehicles, a testament to the fusion of old and new within the Duke¡¯s domain. In the courtyard, servants moved efficiently, finishing the night¡¯s last routines. Groundkeepers tended to the lavish gardens, drones hovering quietly overhead, scanning for imperfections in the estate¡¯s vast greenery. Gerald, the manor¡¯s head steward, stood near the flowerbeds, tending to the vibrant array of roses with careful precision. He was an older man, dressed in a well-pressed suit, his posture one of quiet dignity. As he clipped a few stray stems, he offered a nod to a passing security officer. ¡°Good evening, Samuel.¡± The guard, adjusting his tie, nodded in return. ¡°Evening, Sir Gerald. Working late again?¡± ¡°As always,¡± Gerald replied with a faint smile. ¡°The garden does not tend to itself.¡± The moment was peaceful. And then¡ªthe world shattered. The very earth trembled. A deafening shockwave tore through the manor grounds. The air itself seemed to scream as reinforced windows across the estate exploded into shards, raining glass onto the sleek pavement. The weaker structures¡ªouter storage units, vehicle garages, stables¡ªcollapsed instantly, crumbling into dust and debris. Time stretched. What was only a moment felt like an eternity. Maids screamed as trays and data pads clattered to the ground, dishes shattering upon impact. Guards stumbled as their earpieces shorted out, overwhelmed by the sheer pressure of the surge. Automated security drones sparked, some falling from the air as their circuits overloaded. The lights flickered. The power grid surged. Even the cars in the driveway shook, alarms blaring as their systems rebooted from the shockwave. Gerald, however, did not move. He merely lifted his head, his calm eyes tracing the trembling walls of the great manor. He did not flinch at the breaking glass, nor at the collapsing structures. He simply turned, his gaze lifting toward the office window above. There, at the highest chamber of the manor, the faint outline of Lucien was visible. Gerald¡¯s fingers tightened around his garden shears. His expression did not change. But deep within his eyes¡ª There was great concern.