The VR capsule hissed open, its metallic frame exhaling a sharp breath of steam. I blinked against the sterile white glow of the Simulation Hall lights. My chest rose and fell as if I'd fought a hundred battles in reality instead of a virtual dungeon.

Even though the pod's safety systems dulled the pain, phantom aches lingered in my arms and legs. My sword calluses burned. My mana veins thrummed like overstrung wires.

I wasn't the only one. All around me, pods were cracking open. Students staggered out—sweat-soaked, pale, hollow-eyed. The silence after combat was always the heaviest.

Then, with a flicker, the enchanted screen above the hall came to life. Numbers scrolled like marching soldiers before freezing into place.

[VR Dungeon Test – Clearance Rankings]

1st Place: Team 4 (Michael Willson, Maria Frostheart, Aurelia Miller, Sakura Nightveil, Sam Darius)

2nd Place: Team 1 (Leon Lionheart, Selena Veylan, Zack Halberd, Rita Almark, Noora Veylen)

3rd Place: Team 2 (Eric William, Petric DeLorne, Ren Rugua, George Ellis, Maro Ventris)

4th Place: Team 3 (Aiden Stromfang, Elara Moonshade, Ranmon Calder, Chris Blackthorn, Seon Yeon)

Clearance Record: New Academy Best – Team 4

The moment those words burned into existence, the hall froze.

You could have heard a pin drop.

Then, like a pot boiling over, the voices came.

"First place…?"

"That team wasn't even stacked with the strongest cadets."

"They broke the Academy record!"

The air turned electric. My gaze flicked to the others—Maria smirking faintly as if she'd expected this outcome, Aurelia tucking a strand of golden hair behind her ear, calm but with a glimmer in her eyes. Sakura simply exhaled, shoulders loosening, while Sam whispered a prayer of thanks, his hands trembling from mana drain.

We did it.

The thought should have filled me with pride. But instead, the weight of a hundred eyes pressed on me, heavier than any orc's axe. Admiration. Envy. Resentment.

And then Leon stepped out of his pod.

His steel-blue eyes darted up at the rankings. For a heartbeat, the noble composure he wore like armor cracked. His jaw tightened. Fists clenched at his sides until the leather of his gloves creaked. Selena's hand brushed his arm, grounding him, but the storm in his gaze remained.

Second again. And to me of all people.

Across the hall, Eric emerged. His lips pulled into a smile, but it wasn't his usual arrogant grin. It was thinner, sharper, carved out of fury. His eyes cut straight to mine like daggers.

"Third place?" Petric's voice rang out, shrill with disbelief. "This is absurd! We had the superior team, the bloodlines, the—"

"Enough." Eric's voice was low, cold, deadly calm. He didn't even look at Petric. His gaze never left me.

For the first time, there was no arrogance there. Just pure, simmering rage.

I forced my face neutral, but my heart thudded against my ribs.

The screen flashed again, highlighting the bold letters beneath our names:

"New Academy Clearance Record – 12 minutes, 42 seconds."

The room erupted. Cheers. Gasps. Disbelief. And under it all—whispers sharp enough to cut.

"He's a commoner."

"The nobles won't like this."

"Mark my words—someone will put him back in his place."

My lips twitched, but I said nothing.

Then a crisp sound echoed—heels clicking across marble.

Evelyn Whitehound stepped forward.

The S-Rank hunter's platinum hair shimmered under the lights, her fitted black jacket hugging her frame as she crossed the hall with deliberate grace. The chatter died instantly.

Her smile curved, sharp and amused, eyes glinting like twin blades as they swept across the students.

"Well," she drawled, her voice smooth as silk yet carrying an undeniable edge. "I must admit… I didn't expect to witness history today."

She stopped in the center, one hand on her hip. Her gaze slid over Leon, then Eric, before finally settling on me.

"Team 4." Her lips quirked. "You didn't just clear the dungeon—you shattered the record. Twelve minutes and forty-two seconds. A performance even many second-years would struggle to replicate."

The silence was suffocating.

Evelyn let it hang a moment before continuing, tone shifting, sharp as a whip.

"Do not misunderstand. Records aren't everything. In the real world, there are no rankings—only life or death. But…" She smiled again, this time wickedly. "…it does tell me something important."

Her gaze pierced me like a needle.

"That some of you know how to think. To adapt. To lead."

Heat prickled at the back of my neck. I held her eyes, but the weight of her words sank deep.

Beside me, Maria smirked knowingly. Aurelia's expression softened just slightly. Sakura's lips pressed together, as if fighting the urge to say something. Sam, bless him, muttered a prayer about guidance and destiny.

Evelyn turned to the rest of the hall, her voice dropping lower, heavier.

"And the rest of you? Second. Third. Fourth. You fought well. But remember this—monsters don't care for your pride. Nobility. Reputation. If you want to win, you'll need more than raw strength. You'll need…" Her gaze flicked back to me for the briefest heartbeat. "…the courage to learn from those you underestimate."

The words landed like stones in still water.

Leon's shoulders stiffened. Eric's jaw clenched.

I exhaled slowly, forcing myself to stand straighter.

Let them stare. Let them hate.

Because this was just the beginning.

---------

(Maria POV)

The world beyond the VR capsule still felt unreal. The cold sweat clinging to my neck, the phantom sting of bruises on my arms, the echo of steel clashing against flesh… all of it lingered as if I had actually bled.

But more than the pain, one image stayed with me is him.

Michael Willson.

He wasn't supposed to stand out. Not here. Not in Class A, among nobles born with legacies, techniques, and centuries of cultivation behind their names. And yet…

I couldn't shake what I had seen.

When the Twin-Head Orc bellowed, its monstrous shadow swallowing us whole, I had been certain we were finished. My ice had shattered against its hide. Even Aurelia's precision strikes couldn't pierce its brute force. Sam's voice had cracked with desperation as he prayed to keep our bodies moving.

And then Michael had moved.

Not like a boy who had just barely reached the peak of E-Rank. Not like someone out of breath, bleeding, cornered.

No… he had moved like a commander. A blade of inevitability.

I remember the frost spreading at his feet sharp, crystalline, beautiful, terrible. His Ice Domain had swallowed the cavern, smothering the beast's rage under a storm of white silence. And then that sword his sword danced.

One arm. Just like that.

An orc that could crush buildings, its arm gone in a single cut.

Even now, when I closed my eyes, I could see it: the purple glint in his gaze, the absolute focus in his stance, the strange rightness in every movement. He wasn't just striking. He was calculating. Anticipating. Turning chaos into patterns only he could see.

And for the first time in my life, I felt… safe.

Not behind Leon, who always looked at enemies as if they were stepping stones. Not behind my noble peers, who measured worth in names and bloodlines.

Safe behind Michael, the commoner boy who shouldn't have belonged here.

…

I exhaled slowly, fingers curling around the hem of my skirt as the VR pods released with a hiss. The hall buzzed with murmurs students stumbling out, instructors recording results, nobles already comparing times.

But when Evelyn's voice rang out smooth, sharp, commanding as the air stilled.

"The highest clearance record," she said, her gaze sweeping like a blade before settling on him. "Team Four. Led by Michael Willson."

The silence that followed cut deeper than applause ever could.

Eyes turned and some wide with disbelief, others narrow with resentment. Leon stiffened in the front row, his jaw tight. Eric's smirk had cracked into something uglier, his fists clenched white. Even Aurelia, ever composed, flicked her gaze toward Michael with a glimmer I couldn't read.

And me?

I found myself smiling, just faintly. A warmth bloomed in my chest where there should have only been exhaustion.

Because I knew it wasn't luck. It wasn't coincidence.

He had carried us.

No one else would have seen the hidden traps as clearly as he had. No one else would have adapted so quickly when the goblin lich ambushed us. No one else would have turned a hopeless fight with a Rank-B beast into a victory we could walk away from.

He did that.

And he had done it without arrogance, without boasting. Just calm instructions, steady steps, and the courage to take the heaviest blows himself.

"Michael Willson…" I whispered under my breath, tasting the name like it was new.

He didn't look at me as the results were announced. He didn't look at anyone. He just stood there with shoulders square, eyes unreadable, as if the storm he unleashed in the dungeon had already been put back in its cage.

But I couldn't stop looking.

Who are you really, Michael?

How does someone like you? someone who shouldn't even belong in this hall? make me feel like this?

I pressed my hand against my chest, as if that would still the quickened rhythm of my heart.

Admiration? Gratitude? Something more dangerous?

I didn't know yet.

But I knew this much: when Evelyn's words fell like a hammer, crowning him in silence, I felt pride burn through me. Pride that I had fought beside him. Pride that I had seen what others missed.

And maybe, just maybe… a flicker of fear.

Because if Michael Willson could rise this high, this fast… then what heights would he reach tomorrow?

Would I be able to keep up?

Or would I find myself chasing his shadow, like everyone else?

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