Chapter 152: The Final Tests The day of the finals arrived. Elara stood in the main hall with the other students, her heart pounding. Weeks of training, studying, and simulations had led to this moment. The headmaster stood at the front, his voice echoing through the hall. "Today, you will face your final tests. There will be three stages. Each will challenge you in different ways. You will be evaluated on your performance, and your final rank will be determined." He paused. "The first stage is the written exam. You will have two hours to complete it. You may begin." --- The written exam was brutal. Questions covered everything—mana theory, monster classifications, dungeon protocols, emergency procedures, combat strategies, healing techniques. Elara's hand cramped as she wrote. Her mind raced as she answered. Some questions were easy. Others made her pause, think, reconsider. What is the optimal mana output for a tier-three healing spell on a patient with internal bleeding?

Chapter 154: The Return of Peter A light appeared in the sky. It streaked across the atmosphere like a comet—bright, blinding, impossible to ignore. People stopped and stared. Some thought it was a meteor. Others thought it was the end of the world. But it wasn't a meteor. It was Peter. He flew through the clouds, his body wrapped in a golden aura, his eyes fixed on the city below. He had traveled across the void of space, through the threshold, past the barriers that separated worlds. And now he was home. --- Liberty Guild headquarters was bustling with activity. Sophia was in the main hall, reviewing raid reports with Anthony. Robert and Lana were training in the yard. Jack was reading in the library. Elara was in the medical wing, organizing supplies. Everything was normal. Until the ceiling exploded. Boom! Peter crashed through the roof, landing in the center of the hall. Debris rained down. Dust filled the air. Everyone froze. Sophia's eyes widened. "Peter?" He did

Chapter 156: The Survivor Cindy lay in her hospital bed, staring at the ceiling. She had been here for three days. Three days of tests, of therapy, of people asking her how she felt. She didn't know how she felt. She didn't know if she felt anything at all. Her friends were dead. All of them. She had watched them die—watched the Man-Eater tear them apart, watched him eat them. And she had survived. Why? The question haunted her. She couldn't sleep. She couldn't eat. She just stared at the ceiling and waited. For what, she didn't know. --- On the fourth day, she was transferred. They took her to a facility on the outskirts of the city—a place for people who had experienced trauma. It was quiet, peaceful, surrounded by trees and gardens. Cindy didn't care. She was given a room, a schedule, and a therapist. She was told to rest, to recover, to heal. She just stared at the wall. --- But the days passed. And slowly, she started to notice things. The other patients. The way