The Confrontation Hall – the center of the circular arena surrounded by energy barriers
The sixteen survivors stood aligned along the perimeter of the circle, while the lighting in the hall gradually dimmed, leaving only rectangular spotlights focused on two opposite places.
Jimmy Forth's voice was deep, echoing through the place without emotion:
"First match… John Smith versus Oro Lex."
A small transparent platform rose beneath each of their feet, lifting them toward the heart of the arena.
Oro Lex – a seventeen-year-old youth, his black hair tied back with a simple leather string, his hands clasped calmly behind his back with confidence. He wore a dark, light armor that looked more polished than their survival conditions should have allowed.
His narrow eyes seemed like two slits of gray ice, unblinking, without the faintest flicker of hesitation.
He stepped forward with a steady gait, tilting his head slightly toward his opponent.
"Good luck… Mr. Smith."
John Smith – a forty-three-year-old man, his massive build carved as though from stone, short gray hair framing a face as rigid as a mask.
He wore an old brown coat draped over a steel breastplate, his shoulders lowered as though preparing for a familiar task.
He answered in his harsh, gravelly voice:
"No need for luck… we'll finish this quickly."
Their eyes locked at the center of the arena.
A heavy silence fell, until even the air itself seemed to grow heavier.
At the edge of the field, some contestants watched with indifference, while others—like Adam—analyzed the details without sympathy.
Oro slowly raised his right hand… faint sparks of lightning began to dance between his fingers.
Meanwhile, John clenched his fist, a dark crimson aura rippling along his forearm:
"This won't take long."
Jimmy Forth's voice returned, cold and detached:
"Begin."
⟢ Flashback – John Smith ⟣
John Smith was born forty-three years ago in the city of Jinkle, that quiet gray town lying at the foot of the snowy mountains in the northwest of the continent. Their small house, with its slanted wooden roof, was buried under snow each winter, wrapped in the scent of burning wood and the sound of cold winds lashing against the old windows.
His childhood wasn't tragic or noisy like so many others on this continent. He was simply an ordinary child—calm on the outside, yet inside him lay a quiet ocean of curiosity that never stopped expanding.
His father, Harold Smith, worked as a record keeper at the local courthouse, a precise, organized man who raised pigeons on their rooftop. His mother, Elena Smith, was a kind woman, a skilled seamstress known by nearly every family in the neighborhood.
In his early years, John had no grand dreams. He spent long hours sitting beside the fireplace, staring into the dancing flames as if reading secrets no one else could perceive. By the time he turned nine, his peculiar tendencies became clear: he began asking his parents questions such as "Why are people born only to die?" and "How can light create shadows?"
When his parents realized he was mentally ahead of his peers, they decided to send him to Jinkle Elementary Academy. There he met his first influential teacher: Master Harutch, who encouraged him to study ancient chemistry and natural history.
But the true spark came when, on his eleventh birthday, he received a small book from the town library titled:
"Principles of Absolute Magic and the Hidden Shadows"
The book wasn't entirely forbidden, but it wasn't ordinary either. It contained cryptic lines about how to "amplify the energetic frequency of the human core," and how to turn powerful emotions into tools of summoning.
That night, John realized that what people called "dark magic" wasn't necessarily pure evil. He sat for hours under the glow of an oil lamp, taking trembling notes filled with excitement.
As John grew, his curiosity expanded to everything: dissecting strange creatures brought by the city's hunters, studying poisonous plants, collecting rare minerals. He built himself a small laboratory behind their home—a cold room with shelves stacked with vials, dried herbs, and piles of ancient books.
At eighteen, he enrolled at Arcadia High Academy to study "Composite Applications of Absolute Magic." There, his name became known among students and scholarly elites, for he didn't see the study of shadows and darkness as corruption, but as necessary knowledge to help mankind transcend its limits.
But he knew his great ambition required money—something he did not have. His parents left him only enough for modest living, and research demanded enormous resources.
Years passed as he cycled through many jobs: assistant researcher, consultant in defense technologies, even teacher in remote villages. It was a life of quiet toil—neither glory nor great defeat.
Then, only three months ago, he received a mysterious invitation offering him the chance to participate in an extraordinary trial:
"A comprehensive test to determine who is worthy of inheriting the greatest magical legacy of the continent."
He knew that behind the flowery words lay something else, but he didn't hesitate.
He told himself:(If I survive… I'll earn enough to fund my experiments for years. If I die, at least I won't regret it.)
On the night of his departure, before leaving, he returned to his lab. With reverent hands, he brushed the wooden table where he had spent twenty years mixing, researching, and recording, then carefully closed his notebook.
Before extinguishing the lamp, he looked at the silent row of bottles on the shelves and thought to himself:
(All of this… maybe it was just a prelude to something greater. Something that proves my life wasn't just fleeting curiosity.)
And then he left.
Deep inside, he carried the same feeling that had haunted him since childhood:
That cold intuition… that knowledge was more precious than anything—even his life.
Although John was known among colleagues as "the polite researcher," his cold laboratory housed some of the most controversial and dangerous experiments in the northern continent.
Since the age of nineteen, he had embarked on a secret project he titled in his notes:
"The Emotional Assimilation and Alternative Energy Project."
The hypothesis was simple yet perilous:If exposed to an artificial energy frequency, a human could absorb the abilities of others—or the remnants of their abilities after death.
But the problem wasn't only in the technique—it was in its morality.To achieve this, he needed samples of magical energy from real users… even the lingering emotions left behind after their deaths.
Thus began John's first experiments:
❖ Experiment One – The Energy Memory CapsuleFrom old battlefields, he collected ash and broken tools belonging to unknown sorcerers. From them, he crafted a small capsule of black crystal, claiming it retained "the echo of abilities."
Sitting on a wooden chair, he placed the capsule over his chest and inserted a thin energy thread directly into his heart.
What happened?Nothing but a cold shiver and numbness.He gained nothing.
He recorded in his notebook:(Failure. No trace of energy transfer.)
❖ Experiment Two – Energy Infusion through BloodTwo years later, he tried another method:He obtained a few drops of blood from a veteran of the Northern Regional Wars (after paying a heavy bribe). He mixed the blood with a compound of stimulative elements, then injected it into his vein.
Hours passed as he trembled in bed.The fever nearly killed him.At the peak of delirium, he imagined threads of light writhing around him. But he gained no ability.
When he recovered, he wrote while panting:(Failure. The link between blood and emotional energy is insufficient.)
❖ Experiment Three – Resonance of the Seven MirrorsThis was the strangest and most dangerous.He crafted a sevenfold circle of polished mirrors engraved with old seals. The idea: if he sat within the circle and focused on a strong emotion (grief or fear), the circle would activate, reflecting stored energy back at him, magnified—as if they were memories of others.
On a freezing winter night, he locked the door, lit seven blue flames, and sat inside the circle.He thought an hour would suffice.
But as time passed, he felt only an overwhelming void…And for a brief moment, he thought his soul would vanish.
By morning, he emerged, his eyes bloodshot from strain.He recorded coldly:(Partial failure. Technique dangerous with no tangible gain.)
❖ Final Attempt – The Emotional Residue CrystalThree months before receiving the tournament invitation, he conducted his last and riskiest experiment.From a shady merchant, he obtained a small blue crystal said to preserve "the residue of those gifted with extraordinary power."
He placed it in a carved box and began a seven-day ritual of gradual energy-binding.
Throughout those nights, a heavy sensation haunted him, as though the crystal mocked him.On the final night, when he tried to activate it, it shattered in his hands without a spark or sign.
He sat motionless for a long while, staring at the shards, then muttered:"Even if I cannot gain power… I will gain knowledge."
He wrote the final line in his leather-covered notebook:(Failure. No ability. Only another lesson.)
Despite all his failures, John never felt complete despair.He saw each failed attempt as a step toward mastering something greater—something he couldn't yet even define.
Thus, when the strange invitation came, he didn't see it merely as an opportunity for wealth… but, perhaps for the first time in his life, as a chance to test whether his failures were the result of weakness—or the limits of humanity itself, which he longed to surpass.