Fairwind had always relied on a powerful ability granted to him by Ethan—a combat skill that allowed him to recover health with every monster he killed. Recently, he had even developed a distaste for health potions, preferring to heal through sheer bloodshed.
That's why, in his usual reckless fashion, he had tossed aside his healing potions.
But just now, during the chaos of battle, it finally hit him—if it weren't for Ethan reminding him, he might have been the first person in history to actually kill himself through overconfidence.
"I guess I need to start keeping a few potions on hand again," Fairwind muttered, a sheepish grin on his face.
While he was recovering, the entire crowd around the battlefield had erupted.
"What the hell just happened?!"
"Did Ethan just take them all out with one skill?"
"Isn't he supposed to be a beast master? That looked more like a mage to me!"
"A mage? Since when did novice mages have area-of-effect spells that big?!"
"Forget summoned beasts—I didn't even get to see one!"
"Are we sure this guy isn't some repeat student in disguise?"
"If I were on the receiving end of that sandstorm... I'd be digging a grave for myself right now."
"That vortex looked like it could swallow my soul."
"Wow... so Ethan's not just handsome—he's terrifying."
"From today onward, Ethan is my new god!"
Even the instructors—people who had been training students for decades—began to doubt themselves.
One whispered to another, "If I were caught in that skill... how long do you think I could last?"
The truth was undeniable: Ethan had achieved in mere weeks what most of them had trained for decades to accomplish.
Could this really just be a gap in talent?
Some mentors began to speculate that Ethan's talents didn't just empower his summoned beasts—maybe his talents enhanced himself as well.
But that didn't make sense, right?
According to the files, Ethan had given up multiple SS-level talents just to become a simple S-rank beast master. It seemed irrational—unless he had known all along that his strength went beyond classifications.
Somewhere outside the combat zone, the instructor from No. 1 Middle School, who had been pretending to faint earlier to avoid trouble, quietly peeked from behind a tree.
"Good thing I ran when I did," he whispered. "That would've been another slap in the face."
Meanwhile, the principal of No. 1 Middle School, who had originally pushed to test Ethan, stood frozen. His jaw clenched, heart sinking.
All nine students who had charged Ethan with such arrogance were now lying face-down in the sand.
"I wanted to help Mr. Wong," the principal mumbled, "and instead... I handed Ethan the perfect chance to shine."
The reality was harsh: Ethan hadn't just won—he had humiliated their entire school.
On the sidelines, Mr. Wong stood in silence, watching the aftermath. His thoughts were spinning.
He had misjudged this boy.
Despite overseeing thousands of students in his years as a transfer mentor, he had never encountered someone like Ethan. Even with all the professionals thrown at him, Ethan didn't need to summon a single beast.
Was it possible that the most talented student this year wasn't from the Winters family... but was Ethan himself?
His palms began to sweat.
What if Ethan resented me?
What if he remembered the way I dismissed him before?
Sure, he'd only said a few things to the principal of No. 3 Middle School... something about "a difference in teaching philosophy." That shouldn't be enough to spark any deep grudge, right?
But... just in case...
Mr. Wong's thoughts turned dark for a brief moment.
Should I eliminate him now, quietly?
But the idea vanished as quickly as it came.
"No," he told himself.
Not only was it unclear whether Ethan even held any hostility toward him, but if the assassination failed, Ethan would never stop hunting him.
And in the Dragon Kingdom, harming or plotting against a new recruit was a capital offense.
If discovered, he'd be executed. There would be no second chances.
"All this... just because I wanted a promotion?" Mr. Wong muttered. "I must've been out of my mind."
For the first time in his long career, Mr. Wong felt real fear.
The only card he had left to play... was Lily Winters.
He turned toward her and asked in a hushed tone, "Lily, do you still plan to challenge Ethan?"
But Lily shook her head with unwavering conviction. "I'm not his match."
Her words stunned even the mentors from No. 3 Middle School.
Lily had never bowed her head before—not to any peer, and certainly not to any teacher.
Even as a student, she had considered most people beneath her. Her pride was legendary.
Yet today, she surrendered without a fight.
But Lily wasn't surrendering out of fear. She was surrendering out of respect—and clarity.
The skill Ethan had just displayed... left her no room to counterattack.
Even if she approached him, she knew she'd be torn apart by that sandstorm before getting close.
She didn't stand a chance.
Earlier, she had guessed that Ethan might be the mysterious figure who had cleared the legendary dungeon. Now, she was certain.
Back then, the boss in the gold-tier dungeon had a cloning ability—one that would have created duplicates of all his opponents. If Ethan had brought summoned beasts, he would've been overwhelmed by copies.
The only way to clear that challenge was to go in alone—with strength and strategy.
That meant the mysterious figure from back then... was definitely Ethan.
And now, Lily faced a new problem: how could she repay the favor she owed him?
The Winters family had strict values—a debt must be repaid.
But how do you repay someone who's already stronger than you?
If she offered help, it might seem patronizing. If she stayed silent, it felt like betrayal.
In that moment, she realized something: favors are the hardest things to repay.
Meanwhile, Mr. Wong was desperately trying to salvage what was left of his dignity.
He replayed every moment he had interacted with Ethan.
Every sentence. Every sideways glance.
He had to understand—did Ethan hate him? Or could he still find a way to make peace?
Perhaps the Winters family's help wouldn't be enough. Maybe the best option now... was to humble himself.
After all, a smile can defuse even a clenched fist, right?
Mr. Wong had spent a lifetime navigating politics and power struggles.
Maybe, just maybe, if he bowed his head now—he could still find redemption.
He glanced toward Ethan, hoping to catch his attention.
But Ethan didn't even look at him.
He stood tall, eyes proudly fixed on the principal and elder mentor of No. 3 Middle School, radiating confidence and strength.
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