High above the arena, the silence that followed Derek's return still lingered.

From the upper balcony, the Headmistress of the Hunter Academy leaned back slightly in her cushioned seat, her sharp eyes never leaving the figure standing below.

Beside her, an elderly man dressed in a high grade attire leaned forward, resting his chin on his cane.

"That boy…" he murmured, lowering his voice. "He's really something else. Tell me — how long has your academy been hiding such a gem?"

The Headmistress let out a soft chuckle.

"Well," she replied calmly, "even I didn't know."

Her lips curved into an amused smile, though her eyes remained sharp and calculating. "It seems," she continued, "that I'll need to give house master Yami a few lessons."

The man beside her raised a brow. "Lessons?"

"On how to report properly," she said lightly.

But there was something else beneath her tone — interest.

No.

Expectation.

Down on the arena floor, space distorted once more as another rift opened. A group of students stepped out, looking battered but relieved.

It was Fredrick's team. Or rather...

What remained of it. Fredrick himself was nowhere to be seen. How could he? Afterall, he was already dead.

At the front stood Linda, her expression firm as she led the team forward. Though exhaustion showed on her face, there was no mistaking the pride in her posture. They were always the first team to complete the trial in all previous half-yearly ranker's test. But this time, they came out on third. But still... Without Fredrick and Emma, it was still astonishing.

Moments later, Derek's team, having exited earlier was officially announced as the second to clear the first round. With nothing else to do but wait, all three teams gathered in the designated resting area near the arena.

At first, the atmosphere was neutral. Then came the whispers.

Linda's teammates stood together, casting glances in Derek's direction — some subtle, some not.

"So that's them…"

"Yeah. But did they really complete the first trial? I mean even we had our hands full and I wasn't sure if we would really complete the trial successfully."

"Is it possible that they were actually disqualified but still lingering here?"

"I don't think that's the case. Didn't you hear the announcement just now. They were second to clear the trial."

Linda didn't say anything but her eyes were locked in Derek's team's direction.

Their voices were low, but the bitterness was unmistakable.

They had hoped — no, expected — Derek's team to be wiped out early. Especially after Fredrick's downfall.

Now, seeing them standing here, calm and unharmed? It made their stomachs churn.

Anger mixed with disbelief.

Linda noticed the looks but said nothing. Her gaze lingered briefly on Derek, then shifted away.

Meanwhile, Derek's team was having its own internal turmoil.

Art hadn't been able to sit still since they returned. He paced back and forth, hands clenching and unclenching, eyes darting toward Derek every few seconds.

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore.

"Alright," Art said, stopping abruptly. "I need to ask."

Derek looked up. "Ask what?"

Art stared at him, eyes wide. "Since when can you use weapons?"

Derek blinked once. "I learned a few moves. Nothing special."

"Just a few moves!" Art snapped. "Derek! Those daggers — flying around like they had a mind of their own! You're a cultivator, aren't you? Cultivators don't fight like that! You are using weapons like aurans."

Eva and Emma exchanged a glance.

Art continued, voice rising. "And don't even get me started on that control. That wasn't magic. And it definitely wasn't brute force. What the hell was that?!"

Henry nodded vigorously. "Yeah! Those daggers didn't even touch your hands!"

Art swallowed. "I've seen aurans using weapons. I've seen mages using spells. What you did… that wasn't normal."

Derek scratched his cheek lightly.

"Well," Eva added from the side, "He can use a sword too."

Art froze. So did Henry.

"…What?" They both said in unison.

Eva sighed inwardly. Emma simply looked away.

Art felt his world crack just a little.

"A cultivator… who uses swords… and flying daggers…" he muttered. "You're messing with me, right?"

Derek smiled faintly. "No."

Art clutched his chest. "This is unfair."

Up in the stands, the initial shock had finally begun to fade. And murmurs started to spread.

Slowly. Cautiously.

"That dagger technique… That student even took down a c-class monster with ease."

"What do you think? Can he go against a B-class monster as well?"

"I bet he can."

"But how is this possible? Even most of the high class aurans don't know such a technique. From where did he learn it? Or maybe from whom?"

"Do you think the house master of raging bulls is giving him special training?"

"That's a logical doubt. But why would he?"

The whispers grew, threading through the gallery like a rising tide.

Not loud. Not yet.

But persistent.

Time passed. Rifts continued to open and close as teams were either expelled or emerged victorious.

One by one...

Five more teams were disqualified. Some were dragged out unconscious by emergency formations. Others limped out on their own, faces pale, eyes hollow.

For those teams, the first trial ended in failure. However, they were not all ranked equally. Their positions were calculated based on the points they had earned before elimination — a cruel reminder that every second, every decision, had mattered.

Meanwhile, three more teams successfully completed the trial, emerging battered but triumphant.

The number of remaining teams steadily dwindled.

The arena atmosphere shifted again. What had once been excitement turned into tension.

And tension turned into gravity. Students watched the remaining rifts with bated breath.

Instructors whispered among themselves, making notes, exchanging sharp glances.

This wasn't supposed to happen. Not like this.

Finally...

The last rift shimmered… and closed.

A booming voice echoed across the arena. "The First Trial has concluded."

Silence fell.

Then the announcement continued. "Out of twenty teams, eleven have successfully completed the trial."

A pause. "Nine teams… have been disqualified."

A ripple ran through the arena. This was only the first round. And nearly half the participants were already gone. Linda's team stood straighter. Derek's team looked calm.

But Art and Henry were still staring at Derek like he was an unsolved mystery.

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