The silence that followed Phase One was heavier than the noise of battle.
Overseer Ironwood stood on the central spire, his amplified voice booming across the devastation of the arena. The holographic ruins flickered and faded, revealing the scorched, bloodied floor beneath.
"The Culling is complete," Ironwood announced, his tone devoid of pity.
A massive holographic scoreboard manifested in the sky, displaying the brutal mathematics of the Protector Vanguard.
[ TOTAL APPLICANTS: 2,148 ] [ ELIMINATED: 1,948 ] [ ADVANCING: 200 ]
A collective gasp ripple through the survivors. More than ninety percent of the hopefuls had been washed out in less than an hour. The 200 who remained stood amidst the debris, clutching their golden Tokens like lifelines. Some were bleeding, some were crying, but all of them were staring at the scoreboard in disbelief.
"This is the standard," Ironwood continued. "We do not accept mediocrity. If you are standing here, you have proven you can survive chaos. But do not get comfortable. You have only earned the right to suffer in Phase Two."
The Whispers
As the survivors were ushered into the Holding Bay—a massive underground chamber beneath the arena—the whispers began.
Usually, the gossip would be about Vane Thorne or the other high-ranking nobles. But today, the eyes weren't on the golden armor. They were on the F-Rank in the scorched leather vest.
"That's him," a D-Rank mage whispered to his teammate, nodding toward Kael. "The guy with the smoke."
"I saw it," the teammate muttered. "He didn't just dodge the Ogre. He walked it to Vane like a pet. That's insane."
"Is he a Glitch User? Or just crazy?"
"Who cares? Stay away from him in Phase Two. He's dangerous."
Kael leaned against the cold stone wall of the Holding Bay, ignoring the stares. He sat with his eyes closed, pretending to rest, but in reality, he was fighting a war inside his own chest.
The Sanctum was vibrating.
[ System Alert: Glitch-Ogre Essence missed. ] [ The Sanctum remains hungry. ]
The hunger was a physical ache, a hollow void demanding to be filled. Kael gripped a water skin, his knuckles turning white. Not here, he told the Codex. If I feed you in front of them, I become a lab rat.
Eren sat beside him, looking pale. He held his Token with trembling hands. "They're staring at us, Kael. Everyone. Even the C-Ranks."
"Let them stare," Kael said, opening one eye. "Fear is better than respect. It makes them hesitate."
Across the room, Vane Thorne was being attended to by a private healer. His armor was dented, his hair scorched, and his face twisted in pure, unadulterated rage. He wasn't looking at his healer. He was staring directly at Kael, his eyes promising a slow, painful death.
Kael offered him a small, mocking salute. Vane crushed a potion vial in his hand.
The Observers
High above the arena, behind the tinted mana-glass of the VIP Box, the true powers of Arcanvale were watching.
Protector Guild Leaders, military generals, and corporate sponsors sat around plush chairs, analyzing the replays on floating screens.
"Thorne's boy was sloppy," General Kaelen grunted, replaying the footage of the Ogre punch. "Powerful, yes. But no situational awareness. He let an F-Rank bait him like a rookie."
"It's the F-Rank that interests me," a soft voice cut in.
Seated in the back, shrouded in robes of deep violet, was Head Researcher Oris. He wasn't watching Vane. He was watching a slowed-down clip of Kael phasing through the lightning.
"Look at the mana signature," Oris said, pointing a slender finger at the screen. "When he dissolves... the mana doesn't disperse. It inverts."
"Inverts?" The General frowned. "What does that mean? Is it a Cloaking Skill?"
"No," Oris murmured, his eyes narrowing behind thick spectacles. "Cloaking bends light. This boy isn't bending light. He's removing his existence from the physics engine entirely for 1.2 seconds. That isn't a skill found in any standard E-Rank manual."
Oris tapped the screen, freezing the frame on Kael's face.
"And notice the Ogre," Oris added. "When it died... it didn't drop a core. It dissolved into ash. And look at the boy's chest."
On the screen, a faint, almost invisible wisp of grey energy could be seen drifting from the dying Ogre toward Kael.
"He's feeding on something," Oris whispered, a chill running through the room. "Mark him. I want a full bio-scan if he survives Phase Two."
But Oris wasn't the only one watching.
In the highest tier of the stadium, hidden in the rafters where no VIP ticket could grant access, a figure sat perched like a gargoyle.
She wore a mask of white porcelain with no mouth, and her cloak seemed to blend perfectly into the shadows.
[ System Anomaly Detected. ]
The words flashed across her own internal interface—red and urgent.
She tilted her head, watching Kael through the layers of stone and steel.
"Found you," she whispered. Her voice was like wind over broken glass. "The leak in the code."
She tapped her wrist, sending a signal that didn't go to the Protectors, or the Guilds, or the Government. It went somewhere much darker.
[ Target Acquired: Kael Kane. ] [ Priority: Observe. If unstable... Delete. ]
Back in the Holding Bay
The massive iron doors at the far end of the bay groaned open. The break was over.
Overseer Ironwood's voice returned, echoing through the chamber.
"Rest time is finished! Phase Two begins now!"
Kael pushed himself off the wall, the hunger in his chest finally settling into a cold, hard focus. He checked his stats one last time.
[ HP: 92% ] [ Mana: 70% ] [ Sanctum Status: Waiting... ]
"Ready?" Kael asked.
Eren stood up, gripping his staff until his knuckles cracked. "No. But I'm not quitting."
"Good answer."
Kael walked toward the doors, the eyes of 198 rivals, a dozen guild leaders, and one silent assassin burning into his back.
The arena awaited. And this time, he knew the game wouldn't be about tokens. It would be about blood.