Zeres appeared in the academy. What greeted him was a huge pressure, threatening to crush him. Only his sheer grit kept him stable.
After recovering, he looked around, searching for who attacked him. As he observed, he realized the surroundings were dark, tinged with a crimson hue. Towering buildings stretched in every direction, each shrouded in an air of mystery.
Silence reigned—the kind that brings despair. Then, a horrendous screech echoed from one of the buildings.
"I wonder what that is," he muttered, but didn't dare approach.
Suddenly, a figure appeared before him. Dark hair, dark clothes, a mask concealing the face. The figure scrutinized him, and he returned the scrutiny.
He muttered in his mind:
Copy code
SYSTEM
Name: Ares Lockhart
Level: Too high for the host's current level
Affinity: Too high for the host's current level
Magic: Too high for the host's current level
Status: Nonchalant – does not care about the host. Host is advised not to anger him; death will be instant and unremembered.
"Hmm… wow. The people in this academy are terrifyingly powerful. I knew it before, but seeing it with my own eyes…" he thought.
Before he could finish, he was shrouded in the figure's aura. Before he could react, he was transported to another area.
This time, he could see people.
Some floated in meditation like monks—a boy hovered in the air, hands clasped, chanting as if praying. An intense aura radiated from him, controlled but undeniable. Another boy, resembling a rogue samurai, sat on the ground, meditating with his sword at his side.
Other students leaned casually on fences, legs swinging, gazing at the sky. Nervous groups whispered quietly, trying to form bonds and alliances. Zayriel blended into the crowd, observing everything.
A little later, the sky shook. Two figures descended. One was female, the other male.
The female had golden hair and crimson eyes that burned like the sun. Sharp, delicate features. A gorgeous body. Beauty and danger in one presence.
The male's face was hidden behind a mask. Silver hair flowed, and his presence was ominous.
They floated in the air, their stance intimidating. The new candidates instinctively raised their guard.
The girl spoke:
"So these are the new freshers… hmm, not bad. Though still terribly weak."
Almost everyone's eyes narrowed. Nobody replied—until a voice cut through:
"I dare you to say that again."
A boy with fiery hair and burning eyes stepped forward. His aura alone made the atmosphere tense.
The girl raised an eyebrow.
"I said you guys are too weak. Do you have a problem with that?"
The boy's aura erupted—primal, raw, overwhelming.
Berserker Style – First Form: Raging Beast.
The air quivered. A guttural roar spilled from him, echoing like an ancient predator awakening. The ground trembled beneath him. Aura exploded outward in waves of raw fury, distorting light and shadow. The battlefield felt smaller, suffocating, dangerous.
Leaves shredded in the wind, dust swirled like mini-cyclones, and spectators felt primal dread clawing at their souls. His strikes weren't just fast—they carried the weight of unleashed rage, leaving trails of kinetic force that seared the air.
Eyes glowing with feral fire, his movements blurred—too wild for the human eye to follow. Every swing, punch, and step promised obliteration.
"He's from the Berserker clan… no wonder he's this powerful," some whispered.
The girl, unmoved, raised a single hand. His attacks faltered.
He screamed as her aura crushed him, leaving him immobile. Even the most powerful spectators narrowed their eyes, impressed and horrified.
After dealing with him, the girl asked, "Who is next?"
No one stepped forward.
"Good. Your trial begins today," she continued. "You will be sent into a dungeon, separated, and must survive on your own. Form alliances if you wish, though few will endure."
She looked at the boy beside her. He nodded, performed a seal, and a purple, dark, intimidating portal appeared—like a monster ready to swallow the void.
All candidates were swallowed. Zayriel smirked.
Interesting… even with all that power, she defeated him easily. There's more to this school than meets the eye. Things are getting interesting…
The girl disappeared, leaving only the silver-haired boy.
"Maria," he asked. "Why didn't you warn them about the trial's difficulty?"
"Well," she replied, crimson eyes scanning the horizon, "let them find out by themselves. They are new candidates. We cannot coddle them. Life will not be easy in the battlefield. This is their first trial—a lesson. The weak will die. The strong who survive will grow stronger. As you know, darker days are coming."
Uriel gritted his teeth beneath his mask. "The darker days… the boy grithed his teeth Someone is trying to invade our borders."
Maria looked at the sky. "We don't have time to babysit anyone again," she said, then disappeared.
The boy remained. He muttered, "So those two have now collided… interesting. Let's see how long they would last against humans."
In another area, like a dimension of its own, the pressure was immense—far beyond anything Zayriel had felt. Inside a building, two figures were present. One meditated, dark hair and chiseled face serene. The other stood beside him, unaffected.
"This is a rank 20 special dungeon," one muttered, cold, ruthless, with a tinge of astonishment.
"Instructor Quinn," the man continued, "many will die in the dungeon. Some may survive, or none may return. If worst-case happens, so be it."
Quinn's eyes narrowed. "Even geniuses across stages… still pure suicide. Countless bosses inside, and that disaster-level beast"
The man replied, "We humans survive through sacrifice. Natural selection favors the strong. The weak will die, the strong will grow stronger. This dungeon enforces it. This is only the beginning."
Quinn's eyes narrowed further. "Good… don't tell me they want to collide and take down humans?"
"They can try," the man said. Quinn bowed and disappeared.
The vice chancellor, left alone, stood by the window. "Things are starting to become interesting," he murmured.