The dust clouds, kicked up by the clash between the "Crimson Slash" and the "Sword of Light," slowly drifted away,
revealing a sight that left everyone in the arena breathless.
As the smoke vanished, two silhouettes
were left in the center of the ring; one stood tall like an immovable monolith,
while the other swayed momentarily before collapsing to the ground.
When the dust finally cleared, Ray was revealed standing in place, motionless despite his ragged, heavy breathing.
Opposite him, Archion lay sprawled on the stone floor, blood seeping from a deep
wound in his chest, his broken sword discarded beside him.
"The match is over!" the referee bellowed, his voice raspy with the weight of the moment. "Victory goes to Ray!"
The stands erupted into a roar of noise unlike anything the academy had ever witnessed.
Waves of shock and awe rolled through the coliseum, and excitement surged into every corner of the stadium.
Yet, amidst the chaos, there were hushed whispers and bewildered gazes.
How had Ray, the disgraced outcast exiled by his own kin, attained such terrifying
strength? And where had he learned those powerful techniques?
Ray exited the arena calmly, ignoring the eyes that trailed him with lethal curiosity.
He headed straight to his quarters, collapsing onto his bed and sinking into a
deep, heavy slumber the moment his head hit the pillow.
His body was screaming for relief; it had been an extraordinary day,
from helping Shane cultivate her internal foundation to the grueling battle against Archion.
The mana expenditure had been colossal, but he fell into a sleep as deep as a warrior’s coma.
Hours slipped by in a blur of restorative silence.
As the first light of a new morning bled through the curtains, Ray stirred.
He muttered under his breath, stretching his limbs, "Sleep is truly the best way to restore energy and refresh."
He felt the fatigue that had been gnawing at his bones completely vanish; he had utilized one of his unique techniques, a
method of passive cultivation that accelerated cellular regeneration while he slept.
Ray readied himself and headed toward the Class S hall.
He entered and drifted to his usual seat by the window, a place where he enjoyed observing the horizon.
But he barely had time to settle in before he noticed new faces.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
Shane, Gravis, and Eldrick had been promoted to Class S, a radical shift in the class structure.
However, his eyes snagged on a noticeable absence—Valerian was nowhere to be found.
Moments later, Professor Ariadne walked in, her footsteps entirely silent, lacking even the faintest whisper of friction.
She began her lecture by warmly welcoming the new arrivals and
congratulating those who had maintained their standing in the elite class.
Her tone quickly shifted to cold, clinical precision as she dove into the complexities of "Mana Core Stages."
Ariadne gazed at her students, her eyes sharp.
"Always remember this: as your core evolves, its capacity for mana storage and the quality of that mana increase.
From Bronze to Diamond rank, you are merely walking the path of limited mortals.
But the moment you touch the Lord rank, everything changes."
She paused, allowing the weight of her words to sink into their minds, then continued.
"When your core evolves into a 'Lord Core,' you essentially become a being with infinite mana.
The gap between that stage and those below is the difference between heaven and earth.
Those who reach the Lord rank and beyond are dubbed 'The Immortals,' while
those from Bronze to Diamond are categorized as 'The Mortals.'
And when you finally ascend to the Diamond Core, you must make the most
critical decision of your life: defining your path."
After the lecture, she commanded, "Ray, Archion, Shane, Decanis, Selina... follow me."
The students trailed behind her to her private office. There, she produced an ancient wooden box and handed it to Ray.
She then pulled out a permit sealed with the Royal Academy’s crest and gave it to
Archion, before bestowing mysterious, faintly glowing artifacts upon Decanis, Selina, and Shane.
She explained that these were not mere ornaments; they were treasures forged
from the very "Qi" of heaven and earth, categorized into different ranks based on
their power and the influence they exerted on the bearer.
On the other side of the academy, in a place completely isolated from the day's commotion, Valerian sat in his dark room.
The chamber mirrored his mental state—filled with frustration, despair, and the crushing weight of his failure.
He stared at the void of the wall, his own image as the "miracle of his generation" shattering before his eyes.
He whispered to himself with bitterness, "I won all my matches... I kept my place in Class S, but what is the point?" He let out a sharp, painful laugh.
"Ray defeated me in a humiliating fashion, and the worst part is, he didn't even use his full strength!"
Valerian had believed his entire life that he was the apex of his generation, and that
his background as a prince of the royal family granted him an absolute edge.
He believed his talent was singular and that the world bowed before his name.
But all those beliefs had evaporated in a single heartbeat, transforming him from a "promising prince" into a broken man
drowning in a sea of emptiness and self-loathing.
As he was sinking into this spiral of dark thoughts, something happened that defied logic.
Suddenly, without a second of warning, a mysterious, ethereal light
window manifested before his eyes, floating in the air.
The window flickered with a cold blue light, and words began to form slowly:
[Supervillain System Activated]
[User: Valerian Fontanis]
[Status: In the deepest abyss of despair]
Valerian’s blood turned to ice. He tried to rub his eyes, thinking it was a hallucination
born of psychological pressure, but the window remained fixed.
The words continued to manifest on the screen:
[Do you wish to reclaim your status?]
[Do you wish to crush those who insulted your pride?]
[Refusal will lead to eternal oblivion... Acceptance will change the course of history.]
Valerian’s hands trembled. He didn't know what this was—forbidden magic? The aid of some eldritch entity? But one thing he
knew: he had lost everything, and he had nothing left to lose.
If he had to sell his soul to become stronger than Ray, then so be it.
He reached out a shaking hand, touching the word that glowed with a crimson hue: [Accept].
In that instant, an unbearable agony tore through his body.
The walls around him seemed to vanish, and the room expanded, transforming into a vacuum of raw, pulsing energy.
Valerian was no longer the broken student; something else had awakened within him—something that wasn't entirely human.
While Ray was in Ariadne’s office opening the wooden box, he felt a sudden chill crawl down his spine.
He stopped in the middle of his sentence.
Ray whispered to himself, "There is a dangerous variable that has appeared."
He did not know that Valerian was no longer just a defeated rival, but had become a vessel for an unknown power.
Silence blanketed the academy, but it was the silence of the calm before the storm.
Ray closed the wooden box.