The weekend passed in a blur of nervous tension.

While the rest of the student body was frantically trying to cram for the upcoming Practical Assessment or catching up on sleep after the grueling theory exam, I was locked in my room at the Ashborne estate.

I sat on the edge of my bed, staring into the empty air.

"[System Open.]"

A blue holographic screen flickered to life.

[User: Lucien Ashborne]

[Points Available: 10,350]

I stared at the number. It was the largest amount I had ever held at one time. The reward for saving CrystalVale, the bonus for surviving the Orc General, plus the daily login bonuses I had scraped together over the last few months.

It was my lifeline.

I thought about Kael. The look in his eyes when he stormed out of the cafeteria wasn't just anger; it was determination. He was the Protagonist. He grew stronger when he was cornered. That was his hidden passive: Hero's Resilience.

If I walked into the arena next week with just my current stats and a shotgun, I might win the early rounds... but if I faced Kael? Or Celestia going all out without holding back?

I would lose.

I needed an edge. A cheat code.

"Open Shop. Filter: Combat Skills."

The list scrolled down.

[Swordsmanship (Intermediate) - 5,000 Pts] – Useless. I'm not a tank.

[Mana Shield (Tier 2) - 8,000 Pts] – Too expensive for the mana cost. My core can't sustain it.

[Shadow Step - 15,000 Pts] – Incredible skill, but I can't afford it.

I kept scrolling until I found the section for [Marksman / Ranger Class].

My eyes locked onto a specific skill. It was a passive-active hybrid, a staple for any high-level gunner build in the game.

[Skill: Adrenaline Surge (Level 1)]

Description: When activated, the user's perception of time slows down by 30% for 5 seconds. Reflexes and cognitive processing are boosted significantly during this window.

Cooldown: 10 Minutes.

Side Effect: Minor stamina drain after use.

Cost: 6,000 Points.

"Bullet time," I whispered.

In a world where mages could throw lightning at the speed of thought and knights could dash faster than the eye could follow, being able to see it coming was the difference between life and a closed casket.

[Purchase Confirmed.]

[Points Remaining: 4,350]

I felt a sudden jolt in my brain, like a caffeine rush multiplied by ten. The world seemed to sharpen for a split second—the dust motes dancing in a sunbeam froze in place—before returning to normal.

My heart hammered against my ribs.

"Okay. Next."

I needed firepower. Standard buckshot was fine for clearing trash mobs like Imps, and Slugs were good for breaking barriers, but I needed versatility. If I fought a fire mage, I needed ice. If I fought a tank, I needed piercing power.

I navigated to the [Consumables] tab.

[Item: Elemental Shell Pack (Mixed)]

Contents: 5x Incendiary (Fire), 5x Cryo (Ice), 5x Shock (Lightning), 5x Armor-Piercing (Tungsten Core).

Cost: 2,500 Points.

It was pricey for just 20 bullets, but these were game-logic items. They didn't just burn; they applied status effects.

[Purchase Confirmed.]

[Points Remaining: 1,850]

A heavy wooden box materialized on my bed. I opened it, seeing the colorful shells gleaming in the lamplight. I smiled, running a finger over the red casing of an Incendiary shell.

"Beautiful."

With the last 1,850 points, I couldn't afford any major gear.

I decided to dump it into raw stats. My Agility was my lifeline. If I couldn't outrun them, I couldn't shoot them.

[Purchase: +3 Agility Stat Points (1,500 Pts)]

[Purchase: +1 Perception Stat Point (300 Pts)]

[Points Remaining: 50]

"I'm broke again," I sighed, closing the shop window.

But as I stood up and moved across the room, I felt lighter. My steps were silent. My eyes tracked a fly buzzing near the window with terrifying precision. It looked slow.

"Status."

The window updated, reflecting my growth from the battles, the training, and my recent spending spree.

***

[Status Window]

Name: Lucien Ashborne Gender: Male Age: 16 Race: Human Affiliation: Imperial Academy / House Ashborne / Kitchen 21

Stats

Strength: 28Agility: 35 (+50)

Endurance: 19

Intelligence: 26

Mana: 22

Charm: 65

Skills

Mana Control: Lv. 6 ↑

Horse Riding: Lv. 3

Basic Etiquette: Lv. 4

Intimidation: Lv. 7 ↑

Cooking: Lv. 8

Marksmanship: Lv. 7

Detection: Lv. 8 ↑

Movement Arts: Lv. 7 ↑

[NEW] Adrenaline Surge: Lv. 1

Culinary Creator: (Passive)

I clenched my fist, feeling the power humming under my skin.

"I was ready."

*****

[Meanwhile: The Training Grounds]

It was raining. A heavy, miserable downpour that turned the outdoor training grounds into a mud pit.

Most students were inside, resting or studying.

THWACK. CRACK. BAM.

Kael was not resting.

Shirtless, covered in mud and sweat, he was fighting three magical training golems at once.

His golden hair was plastered to his forehead. His body was screaming with exhaustion, bruises forming on his ribs and arms, but his eyes were manic.

"Again!" he roared.

A golem swung a stone fist the size of a watermelon. Kael didn't dodge. He stepped into the range, took the hit on his shoulder—gritting his teeth as skin broke—and countered with a mana-infused uppercut that shattered the golem's head.

CRASH.

"Too slow! I'm still too slow!"

He panted heavily, steam rising from his skin due to the heat of his mana evaporating the rain.

He remembered the feeling of helplessness when Samantha suspended him. He remembered the cold, mocking look in Lucien's eyes.

'He thinks he's better than me. He thinks rules and money make him superior.'

Kael clenched his fists, mana flaring around him in a golden torrent, repelling the raindrops.

'I'll show him. I'll break his guard. I'll break his little gun. I'll show everyone who the real strongest is.'

From the shelter of the spectator stands, Bordon watched his friend, a worried frown on his face.

"He's pushing too hard," Bordon muttered. "He's going to hurt himself before the exam even starts."

"Let him," Elisha said quietly, stepping out of the shadows, her bow in hand. She looked exhausted too. "He needs this. Lucien… Lucien woke something up in him. The Golden Boy is dead. The Warrior is being born."

****

[Training Hall 4: Cryo Chamber]

The temperature in Hall 4 was -20 degrees.

Celestia stood in the center, her breath forming clouds. She wasn't casting massive spells. She was standing perfectly still.

Around her, ten small targets were floating erratically.

"[Ice Needle]."

Zip. Zip. Zip.

Ten tiny, needle-thin shards of ice formed and fired instantly. Not large spears, but projectiles barely visible to the naked eye.

All ten targets were pierced through the center.

She lowered her hand.

'Lucien blocked my spears because they were big,' she analyzed coldly. 'He broke my wall because it was stationary. If I want to beat him… I need to be faster than his trigger finger.'

She wiped sweat from her brow, her eyes glowing with a competitive blue light.

"Again. Faster."

***

[Training Hall 7: Range]

BOOM!

Mariella shrieked as her fireball exploded too close to the dummy, singing her eyebrows.

"Focus, Mariella! Focus!"

She slapped her own cheeks. She was tired of being the damsel. She was tired of being the one who panicked.

"Lucien faced an Orc Commander. Kael fought golems. I… I can't be the weak link anymore!"

She raised her staff again, her trembling hands steadying.

"[Fireball]. [Compression]."

The flame turned from orange to blue.

****

[Basement Laboratory]

The room smelled of acid and potential death.

Ariana had not left this room in two days.

Her appearance was a mess. Her silver hair was tied up in a chaotic bun held together by a stirring rod. Her apron was stained with seven different colors of residue. Dark circles hung heavy under her eyes, giving her a haunting, intense look.

The floor was littered with failed experiments. Broken glass, burnt herbs, and a bubbling green puddle that was slowly eating through the floorboards.

But Ariana didn't notice the mess.

She was staring at a single vial in her hand. It was glowing a deep, ominous purple.

It wasn't a healing potion. It wasn't a buff.

"Paralysis is too slow," she murmured to herself, her voice raspy. "If I mix the Nightshade root with Viper venom… and catalyze it with a drop of my own mana…"

She swirled the liquid. It hissed.

A dark, dangerous smile touched her lips—a smile that looked suspiciously like the one the future Witch of Decay would wear.

She looked at the row of "combat potions" she had prepared.

She wasn't fighting for grades. She wasn't fighting for honor.

She recalled the sight of Lucien being carried out on a stretcher. The helplessness she felt.

She gripped the vial tight.

"I won't let anyone hurt him again," she whispered to the darkness. "If I have to poison the whole arena… I will protect him."

The Mid-Semester Practical was approaching. And everyone was bringing their demons to the stage.

****

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