The cave didn't change this time.

No monsters, no dramatic reshaping of stone, no grand spectacle announcing what waited for me. The space remained bare and still, the same cold rock underfoot, the same quiet that pressed against my ears like cotton.

That alone unsettled me more than any explosion or shadow ever had. Think about it, if suddenly a cave designed to murder you in the most brutal ways possible by shifting...stops shifting, won't you freak out?

You would. I rest my case.

Anyway, in the center of the chamber stood a staircase.

Ten steps.

No railing. No ornamentation. Just rough-hewn stone ascending into nothing, each step identical in size and shape. At the top was no door, no light, no visible reward. Just an edge where the stone ended and the darkness beyond swallowed everything.

I stopped at the base.

My mana was still there. My gauntlets were still on my hands. My crow perched silently nearby, unusually still, as if even it understood this wasn't a fight it couldn't help me win.

The pressure began before I moved.

It slid over my skin like damp cloth, subtle at first, almost ignorable.

Not force.

Not fear.

Emotion, yes that annoying thing—proof that the mind insists on complicating survival. You can stab a monster. You can dodge a spell. You can calculate odds and outcomes until the world reduces itself to numbers.

But emotion? Emotion refuses to be solved. It doesn't care about logic or preparation. It simply exists, heavy and unavoidable, demanding acknowledgment like a debt that compounds the longer you pretend it isn't there.

I swallowed.

I knew what this was the moment my chest tightened for no physical reason at all.

The part of myself I hated most.

Sebastian.

The thought surfaced unbidden, sharp and unwelcome.

I clenched my jaw. "Of course," I muttered. "Why wouldn't it be you."

The pressure intensified, nudging me forward, not physically but insistently, like a hand at my back that refused to let me stand still. The trial wasn't asking if I wanted to begin. It was already happening.

I lifted my foot and stepped onto the first stair.

The weight crashed down instantly.

Not enough to buckle my knees, but enough to make my shoulders sag, enough to make my breath hitch. Images flickered through my mind, uninvited and vivid.

Sebastian standing at the top of the first-year rankings.

A commoner.

Number one.

I felt it again, the same ugly twist in my gut I had buried the first time I saw his name carved above everyone else's. Nobles. Heirs. Prodigies raised from birth to excel.

All beneath him.

I hated that feeling when it first surfaced. Not because it wasn't directed at him, but because it existed at all.

Jealousy of his success.

I exhaled slowly, grounding myself. "First step," I murmured. "That's on me."

The pressure eased slightly, just enough to let me lift my other foot.

I climbed.

The second stair hit harder, the pressure intensifying.

Sebastian training under her.

The strongest human alive.

Not a rumor. Not a distant legend. Direct tutelage. Private instruction. Living under the same roof. I had spent years clawing my way into relevance, earning glances, scraps of acknowledgment from powerful figures.

He had been chosen.

I remembered watching him walk beside her, casual, unburdened, like he belonged there. Like it was natural.

Jealousy of his opportunity.

I curled my fingers into fists, nails biting into my palms. "You didn't steal it," I told myself. "You earned it."

The pressure didn't vanish.

It never did.

Third step.

The cave dimmed further, though nothing physically changed. This one wrapped around my chest, constricting my lungs.

Sebastian laughing.

That easy, unguarded smile that made people lean in without realizing it. The way others gravitated toward him, trusted him, admired him without effort.

Charisma.

Something I had learned to simulate, refine, weaponize.

Something he seemed to breathe.

Jealousy of his personality.

I swallowed hard. "That's not something you can copy," I whispered. "Stop pretending it is."

The weight shifted, redistributed, but remained.

Fourth step.

Pain bloomed behind my eyes.

Sebastian's face surfaced next, uninvited and infuriatingly clear. Unfair symmetry. Sharp features softened by warmth. The kind of looks bards wrote songs about and sculptors chased for lifetimes.

Handsome.

Effortlessly so.

I scoffed quietly, bitterness creeping into the sound. "Really?" I said to the cave. "We're doing this too?"

Jealousy of his appearance.

It felt petty.

It felt small.

It felt real.

The pressure sank into my spine, testing my balance. I straightened anyway.

Fifth step.

This one nearly drove me to my knees.

Sebastian fighting.

The memory wasn't of a single battle but dozens layered together. His adaptability. His terrifying growth rate. The way he turned losses into foundations and foundations into weapons.

Affinities that shouldn't coexist.

Power that shouldn't scale the way it did.

Luck that bordered on obscene.

Jealousy of his talent.

Jealousy of his trajectory.

I gritted my teeth until my jaw ached. "You don't get to resent someone for walking a path you're also on," I told myself. "Not when you chose yours."

The pressure spiked, then stabilized.

Sixth step.

The air felt heavier now, each breath dragging like I was inhaling water.

Nora.

Annalise.

Lillith.

All orbiting him in their own ways. The princess with her fierce loyalty. The schemer with her calculating interest. The devil with her dangerous curiosity.

I had noticed it. Pretended I hadn't.

Jealousy of his pull.

Jealousy of how easily people attached themselves to him.

It wasn't about romance. Not really. It was about presence. About being someone others chose without needing a reason.

I laughed under my breath, humorless. "You sound pathetic," I told myself. "Get a grip."

The staircase didn't care.

Seventh step.

Kent.

That one hurt more than I expected.

Kent's grin. His unwavering faith. The way he stood beside Sebastian like the idea of betrayal didn't even exist in his vocabulary.

A bond forged in something simple and unbreakable.

Jealousy of that loyalty.

Jealousy of having someone who would die for you without hesitation.

I closed my eyes briefly. "You're not alone," I reminded myself. "You just don't let people stand that close."

The pressure shifted again, settling deeper into my legs.

Eighth step.

The weight was immense now. My muscles trembled as if I were carrying a mountain on my back.

The image that surfaced made my chest ache.

A white tiger cub.

Small. Soft. Ridiculous.

Calling Sebastian papa with absolute certainty, like the word had always belonged to him.

A weapon. A daughter. A bond so strange and intimate it defied logic.

Jealousy of being needed like that.

Jealousy of being loved without condition.

I squeezed my eyes shut. "You're allowed to want that," I whispered. "You're just not allowed to let it rot you."

The pressure eased a fraction.

Ninth step.

This one nearly broke me.

Belle Ardent.

Her presence filled my thoughts before I could stop it. Her strength. Her sharp mind. The way she watched Sebastian not as a superior or a mentor alone, but as someone who saw him.

Too close.

Too familiar.

Too intimate.

Jealousy of that closeness.

Jealousy of the way they existed together, balanced and dangerous and alive.

My breath came shallow. My vision blurred at the edges. "You don't own her," I told myself fiercely. "You don't own him. This isn't yours to resent."

The pressure screamed, then steadied.

One step left.

The tenth stair loomed above me, the top of the staircase vanishing into darkness. My legs shook. My spine burned. Every breath felt earned.

I knew what waited there.

I lifted my foot anyway.

The moment I stepped onto the final stair, the weight became absolute.

Sebastian's strength.

Not just his power, but his refusal to look away. His willingness to suffer, to change, to be broken and reforged without losing himself.

The thing I couldn't replicate.

The thing I feared I lacked.

Jealousy of what he had become.

I nearly collapsed.

My hands dug into my thighs, fingers clawing for purchase as my knees threatened to fold. My vision swam. My heartbeat thundered in my ears.

"I hate this," I breathed. "I hate that this exists inside me."

The staircase didn't judge me.

It only waited.

I forced myself upright, spine straightening inch by inch. The weight didn't disappear. It never did. But I held it.

Because I had to.

Because pretending it wasn't there had never made it lighter.

I stood at the top, gasping, sweat dripping down my temples, muscles screaming in protest.

And I understood.

I was jealous.

Deeply. Inescapably. Humanly.

And I loathed myself for it.

But hatred alone wouldn't erase it. Nor would denial. Nor would comparison.

All I could do was acknowledge it, carry it, and refuse to let it dictate my actions.

I couldn't stop Sebastian from being everything he was.

I couldn't stop myself from feeling the way I did.

What I could do was choose not to let that feeling turn me into something smaller.

The pressure receded slowly, like a tide pulling back.

The staircase dissolved beneath my feet.

I remained standing.

Alone.

Still jealous.

Still me.

And somehow, lighter for having finally admitted it.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.