While outside the arena Toby was busy building a makeshift pharmaceutical empire with a kerosene stove, Aster Vale knew nothing about the sudden wealth awaiting him. Aster's mind was focused on one thing alone: how to avoid paying fines.After obliterating the Orb of Arcane Veracity during the written exam, Aster had been warned by Professor Eldric that his Honorary Participant status came with terms and conditions. If he failed the physical qualifying round without a legitimate excuse, the academy reserved the right to revoke his honorary status and bill him for the destroyed crystal artifact. To Aster, the threat of a bill for tens of thousands of gold coins was far more terrifying than an ancient dragon attack.The afternoon sun beat down mercilessly over the Aethelgard Battle Stadium. At the center of the white-sand arena stood a giant, dark purple Obsidian Mana Stone. The stone emitted a heavy aura that nearly distorted the surrounding air. This was the second phase of the physic

The wind in the Aethelgard Battle Stadium suddenly felt heavy, as though the oxygen in the air had been sucked away by the gripping tension.Darius Vorn stood tall with his drawn fallen star sword. A silver-colored mana aura blazed around him, radiating a cold chill that froze the sand beneath his armored boots. He had issued an open challenge, swearing to free Kaelen from the grip of the junk merchant. He braced for an epic collision of aura, for a clash of Sword Intent that would split the academy sky.Yet, Kaelen merely stared at him.Inside Kaelen's dark pupils, time seemed to spin backward, piercing through the boundaries of current reality. Kaelen did not see the arrogant and powerful Darius Vorn standing before him. What he saw were one hundred forty-seven shadows of death.Loop 14: Darius froze into an ice statue at the Northern Citadel because he refused to retreat from a blizzard, too proud to admit that nature was stronger than his blade.Loop 67: Darius was torn apart by A

The dust from the split arena had not yet completely settled when the voice from the amplification crystal vibrated once more, this time with a more hesitant and respectful tone."N-next match... Darius Vorn of the Northern Knight Faction versus Garet Ironhide of the Steel Guardian Faction!"The cheers, which had fallen silent from the shock of Kaelen's slash, now exploded into a different kind of roar. If Kaelen represented absurd wonder, Darius Vorn represented the pillar of tradition, discipline, and military power recognized by the entire kingdom.Darius stepped down the VIP stands. He did not jump or erupt his aura to show off. Every step was measured, precise, and quiet, as if he were marching on top of the northern border fortress wall. His silver and white academy uniform was impeccably arranged, without a single fold out of place.His opponent, Garet Ironhide, was a seven-foot giant holding a tower shield as thick as a vault door and a spiked warhammer weighing at least two h

Night had fallen late over the Boys' Dormitory at Aethelgard Academy. The tower clock had just chimed eleven times, signaling it was time for students to rest and restore their mana and tired muscles after the tournament preliminaries earlier that day. Inside the cramped and messy room 404, however, the atmosphere was as tense as a battlefield.On the adjacent mattress, Toby was snoring loudly, fast asleep. Instead of hugging a pillow, he was clutching a small sack filled with gold and silver coins, the proceeds from his monopoly on kerosene stove water sales earlier that afternoon. Every now and then, sleepy mumbles escaped Toby's lips, "Three gold coins... no, five... the empty bottles have to be returned..."But at the rickety wooden desk in the corner of the room, Aster Vale was experiencing a crisis far more serious than the tournament or an Abyss monster attack. He had a pounding headache."Damn it... twenty pieces of Obelisk Stones times a forty percent profit margin, minus Mr.

Morning fog at Aethelgard Academy still hung thick, blanketing the dorm backyard in a cold, damp white layer. The tower clock hand had just touched five in the morning. Darius Vorn limped between the shadows of stone pillars, his eyes red and sunken from an entire night without sleep. His mind remained trapped in the chapel, filled with terrifying visions of Aster Vale pulling threads of fate with tangled copper wire.To him, every sound of the wind sounded like whispered curses. Every tree shadow looked like a giant hand ready to crush his soul. Darius wanted nothing more than to return to his room, lock the door, and clutch his sword until this tournament ended.However, fate, or more accurately, the capitalist instinct of a junk vendor, had other plans.Clink. Clang. Scrape.The sound of metal scraping against stone came from behind old wooden barrels at the end of the alley. Darius froze. His breath caught in his throat. Reflexively, he pressed his back against the cold stone pill