Grandpa Mel's voice finally returned, heavy and solemn.

"If you wish to live, you must bear it. Face suffering head-on, and you will overcome it. Persevere, and the path forward will open."

Ray's spirit jolted.

That's right.

If he failed here, death was the only outcome.

I can't die.

There were too many things he hadn't done yet.

He wanted to grow strong.

He wanted to pilot a mecha forged by his own hands.

He wanted to find his parents.

He wanted to find Vivienne.

He wanted to stand at the pinnacle as both a Soul Master and a Mecha Master.

He wanted to live.

Defiance ignited in his heart, burning fiercely. The pain lessened, retreating from his bones toward his spine.

Unbeknownst to him, the golden web patterns on his body briefly turned purple before reverting to gold, now shining brighter than ever.

The numbness and crawling sensation faded.

Ray gasped for breath, sweat-soaked and trembling, but alive. Strength slowly returned to his limbs.

Is it over?

Did I succeed?

"Prepare yourself," Grandpa Mel's cold voice echoed. "This is only the beginning."

Only the beginning.

Before Ray could react, the heat, the cold, and the searing numbness crashed down all at once, engulfing him completely.

His screams pierced the storm outside.

Then, at last, his vision turned white.

*

West Ocean Academy.

The hurricane had arrived without warning, throwing the entire city into turmoil. Shops shuttered, classes halted, and communication networks faltered. Every department of the city administration had been stretched to its limits.

For a full week, the storm raged.

At its peak, towering trees were torn from the ground and buildings suffered visible damage. Only when the winds finally retreated did the city dare to breathe again.

Now, West Ocean City felt reborn.

A thin mist draped the streets like gauze, sunlight spilling gently through it. From time to time, mist and light intertwined, painting faint rainbows across the clear horizon.

Yet Raziel Phoenix had no mood to admire any of it.

"What's wrong with that guy?" he muttered, pacing back and forth inside the teachers' building like a cat trapped on hot tiles. "He still hasn't answered his communicator. Don't tell me it ran out of power!"

Ray.

That name was the thorn lodged firmly in his thoughts.

During the hurricane, Raziel Phoenix had trained relentlessly under Alfred's supervision and finally made his long-awaited breakthrough. The very first thing he wanted to do afterward was share the news with his friends.

But Ray's communicator remained silent.

Worse still, classes had resumed today and Ray was nowhere to be seen.

And tonight…

Tonight was the decisive match.

First grade's class one.

The strongest group of new students in the academy's history.

"Do you know which workshop he uses?" Lily asked quietly. Her brows were knitted together, worry unmistakable in her eyes. "Maybe we can find him this afternoon."

Raziel Phoenix forced a bitter smile. "How would I know? I don't hang around forging workshops. He even called me that day and said he'd stay at his workshop to ride out the hurricane. He told me not to worry! So why hasn't he shown up yet? Don't tell me he forgot the time…"

Lily's expression darkened. "Guessing won't help. Let's go to the Blacksmith's Association this afternoon. His workshop might be registered there."

For once, Raziel Phoenix didn't argue. He nodded immediately. "Alright. Let's go."

By noon, Ray still hadn't appeared.

Raziel Phoenix and Lily went straight to Alfred, then hurried out of the academy together, heading directly for the Blacksmith's Association.

An hour later, they walked back out with heavy expressions.

The association's response had been short and absolute.

All registered forging spaces were confidential. Information could not be disclosed without official government authorization. Worse still, Ray's file was classified at an even higher level than ordinary blacksmiths.

"What now?" Lily asked softly. "Should we ask the teacher to apply for a government permit?"

Raziel Phoenix laughed bitterly. "There's no time. Even if the permit gets approved, it won't be today. The match is tonight. Looks like it'll be just the two of us."

He clenched his fists. "Ray isn't the kind of person who disappears for no reason. Something must have happened."

Lily lifted her head, lips pressed tight. "We'll still ask Teacher to apply. No matter what, we need him back."

"Yeah."

Alfred listened to their report in silence.

"A government permit?" His icy expression thawed slightly, replaced by a faint gloom.

Ray hadn't attended a single class. He was missing.

"Return to class," Alfred said at last. "I'll handle this."

"Teacher," Raziel Phoenix asked hesitantly, "does that mean tonight's match is just the two of us?"

Alfred glanced at him. "Yes."

"Understood."

Raziel Phoenix and Lily returned to class, unease clinging tightly to their hearts.

A three-versus-three battle and a two-versus-two battle sounded similar, yet it felt completely different. Even if Ray was the weakest among them in raw power, he was the anchor of their teamwork.

Without him, something felt… missing.

The afternoon passed quickly.

Perhaps the week-long confinement had built up too much restlessness, because once classes ended, students flooded toward the arena. Even teachers arrived early, gathering in groups.

"Have you heard? This year's tournament is full of monsters! Class five has already won three matches in a row!"

"Hah, that's nothing. Do you know how terrifying class one is this year? Three Soul Grandmasters! Three! Class five's participants are all just one-ring Soul Masters. The gap is enormous."

"I heard even second grade is feeling the pressure. This class one might fight all the way up to third grade."

Laughter, whispers, and excitement rippled through the crowd.

Among the teachers, Ian stood with a grim expression, scanning the arena.

"Teacher Ian, what are you looking for?" Claire asked curiously.

"That bastard Alfred," Ian snorted. "He's been arrogant for too long. I want to see how his students fare today."

He swallowed a sigh. His class had been crushed by Ray's trio, leaving him in charge of the lowest-ranked class in the grade.

Claire sighed softly. "This year's class one is truly terrifying. Even second grade's class one only has two Soul Grandmasters. I doubt anyone can stop them."

Ian sneered but said nothing. He had come to witness the fall of the Icily Arrogant Prince Charming's disciples.

"They're here," Claire said quietly.

Ian followed her gaze.

Alfred stood at the front of class five, eyes fixed on the stage. Behind him were Raziel Phoenix and Lily.

Only two.

Ian blinked in surprise.

Where was the handsome boy? Ray… that was his name.

At that moment, an uproar erupted from the opposite side.

The crowd parted automatically.

A female teacher in her late twenties stepped forward confidently. Her features bore a striking resemblance to Claire's, at least sixty percent similar, though she appeared slightly more beautiful and far more domineering.

Behind her came the pride of first grade.

The strongest new students in recent academy history.

At the front stood three boys.

On the left was Ares, arrogance written plainly across his face.

In the center stood a tall youth with calm eyes and a composed aura, his maturity far exceeding his age.

On the right was a boy so thin he seemed little more than skin and bones. His expression was cold, gloomy, and oppressive. Students unconsciously avoided him, as if merely standing close was uncomfortable.

The two sides assembled opposite one another on the stage.

The air grew tense.

Claire walked briskly toward the female teacher and greeted her softly.

"Big sister."

The teacher of first grade's class one was none other than Lara. She was Claire's elder sister… and the woman Alfred had once rejected without mercy.

Lara gave her younger sister a brief nod. Yet her gaze had already drifted past her, irresistibly drawn to the figure standing on the opposite side.

Alfred.

A few days ago, she had personally witnessed his battle against Eren. The scene had burned itself into her memory, leaving behind a deep and complicated impression.

But admiration alone could not erase the scar he had carved into her heart.

Which part of me isn't worthy of you?

Her fingers clenched tightly at her side.

Alfred, just wait. I'll make your proud face press into the ground. I'll tear that icy arrogance right off you.

Alfred felt a gaze on him and turned his head slightly.

Lara's heart skipped a beat. Almost instinctively, she straightened her posture, arranging her expression into what she believed was her most composed and confident look.

But—

His eyes didn't linger.

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