Marco leaned against the arena railing, watching Rocco accept congratulations from admirers. His jaw tightened."That guy's strong," he muttered. "Beating him won't be simple."Lorenzo appeared beside him. "Perhaps a midnight visit to his quarters? A small incident with some sleeping herbs—""Lorenzo." Marco's tone turned sharp. "No.""But Young Master—""Half the empire's powerhouses are on campus right now." Marco's eyes swept the VIP section. "You think they won't notice if Rocco mysteriously falls ill the night before our match?"The old man's enthusiasm deflated. "You're right. Forgive my foolishness.""Besides..." Marco cracked his knuckles. "Where's the satisfaction in winning that way?"Before they could leave, Rocco's voice cut through the crowd."Derek!"Marco turned. Rocco strode toward him, that insufferable grin plastered across his face."Enjoying the show?" Rocco's tone dripped with false politeness."It was educational," Marco replied evenly."Good." Rocco's eyes gleam

Rocco sat on the scorched arena floor, his breathing steadying. Despite the burns covering his body, his expression held no bitterness."You know..." He stared at his trembling hands. "I started training when I was four years old."Marco, leaning heavily on Sofia, raised an eyebrow. "Four?""Every morning, meditation for magic control. Afternoons, sword practice until my hands bled. Nights, elemental theory." Rocco's laugh came out hollow. "Sixteen years. It took me sixteen years to master four elements.""That's... impressive dedication," Marco admitted."Dedication?" Rocco's jaw clenched. "More like obsession. My father pushed me relentlessly. He even obtained Dragon Blood for me."Marco's heart skipped a beat. His expression remained carefully neutral. "Dragon Blood?""Extremely rare. Supposed to refine your body, multiply your power." Rocco's fists tightened. "But I was too scared. The pain, the risk of death... I couldn't do it.""What happened to it?""My Level 4 water beast car

Fifteen days of grueling travel brought them to the edge of the restricted zone. Marco leaned against the carriage window, watching imperial soldiers patrol in strict formations. Watchtowers dotted the landscape every hundred meters, and magical barriers shimmered in the air."Ten thousand meter exclusion zone," Rocco muttered beside him. "They're not taking chances."The carriage stopped at a checkpoint. An officer in polished armor approached, his hand resting on his sword hilt."State your purpose."Chancellor Williams descended from the lead carriage, producing official documents. "Kensington Academy, authorized for Hell Rift training exercises."The officer scrutinized the papers before nodding curtly. "Proceed to Gate Seven. Principal Davidson is waiting."They continued through increasingly tight security. Mages checked for demonic possession at every checkpoint. Priests examined their auras for corruption. By the time they reached the final gate, even the confident students lo

The open plain stretched endlessly around Kensington Academy's makeshift camp. No natural barriers, no defensive ridges—just flat, exposed ground.Laughter echoed from the neighboring academies."Look at them! Sitting ducks in the middle of nowhere!""First demon wave will slaughter them all!""At least they'll die quickly!"A Kensington student approached Marco nervously, his hands fidgeting. "Maybe we should reconsider? Everyone else chose defensive positions..."Marco's glare could have melted steel. "You want to camp next to spawning grounds? Be my guest. Go join the idiots."The student flinched. "I just thought—""You thought wrong. Dismissed."Sofia finished hammering a wooden stake into the ground, part of their basic perimeter markers. She wiped sweat from her brow and surveyed the flimsy barriers with obvious concern."Marco, these defenses wouldn't stop bandits, let alone Hell Demons.""They're not meant to.""Then why build them at all?"Marco drove his own stake into the

The Kensington warriors crashed into the demon horde like a hammer striking glass. Metal rang against chitin and bone. Blood—both red and black—sprayed across the scorched earth.Marco carved through the front lines, his Darkblood Demon Sword drinking deeply. Each strike absorbed vitality from fallen demons, feeding power back into his exhausted muscles. Around him, students fought in tight formations—knights holding defensive positions while Magic Fighters unleashed elemental fury behind them.But the elite demons held firm. Their armored hides turned aside most strikes, and their massive bulk created an impenetrable wall. Students bounced off the defensive line, unable to penetrate deeper.Only Marco advanced, his blade finding weak points with surgical precision. He slipped between armored plates, severed joints, and carved paths through flesh that seemed invulnerable to others.From the main camp, Sofia watched in growing horror as Marco disappeared into the demon swarm."He's goi