On the fourth day since the opening of the festival, everyone still seemed thrilled by the fierce battles they had witnessed.Clashes so intense that every second was suffocating—every stab, every slash, every scream.Even two hours after the matches had ended, echoes of cheering and encouragement for the students still lingered in the air.
Rack closed the door to his room, returning to quiet solitude. It was already night; everyone had gone out for dinner or entertainment, leaving him alone.
He entered the room and washed himself. His thin, malnourished body was covered in bruises imprinted on his pale skin.Rack looked into the mirror—his pupils darkening as he stared at the reflection.
As a user of planar-type spatial magic, though only a mediocre Tier-4 core, knowledge compensated for the lack of power.
He stared deep into the mirror. It appeared normal at first—until Rack raised his hand and touched the glass.
And then his face distorted—no, the reflection distorted.
He flinched, instinctively reaching up to feel his face—just as a hand extended from the mirror and touched his cheek.
"Haa—haa…"
His breathing grew ragged. He collapsed onto the floor, terrified, as a corpse crawled out from the mirror.The zombie Rack clung to the walls, staring at him and widening its grotesque jaw.
"Wake up."
"Ghaaa!!"
Rack jolted upright, panicking as he looked around. His body was covered in medical equipment used to treat injuries.His hands trembled, wrapped in layers of bandages. Aside from his arms, the rest of his body seemed stable—just aching, with a few broken bones.
"You fainted during the battle against the Earth Demon in the residential district. We detected a bite mark from a zombie, so you were brought in for examination."
A nurse approached, reading out what he presumably needed to know. Rack surveyed the infirmary—soldiers stood everywhere, closely monitoring the patients.
Handing him a file, the nurse instructed Rack to leave the room and rest. It seemed he would be recovering for some time.
Walking through the white hallway toward the hospital's main hall, his mind became a tangled mess of thoughts.
Around the atrium, he noticed the sorrow had lessened. Hospitals were eternally filled with endless suffering—each passing second marked a small apocalypse for someone.But now, there were fewer tears, fewer hollow gazes, fewer shadows of despair lingering here—at least compared to before.
He sat down beside someone wearing a cap pulled low, hiding their face and long hair.
"...Aren't you going to eat?"
Jax offered him a potato bun—still looking bland and tasteless. But Rack had vomited everything he'd eaten long ago; his stomach churned with hunger.
"...Alright…"
Rack reluctantly took a bite. The bland taste spread through his mouth, like chewing soft dirt.
"What day is it…?" Rack asked.
"Oh, counting from when you fainted, around four hours have passed. As for today—it's the second day since the opening of the tournament."
"The second day…?"
"That's right. You must've heard already."
Rack fell silent. He set aside the bun after a single bite, pushed his hair back, and sank into thought.
"Everything's just getting more and more tangled…"Sensing the awkward quiet, Jax added, "Just like during the practical exam…"
Rack glanced at the boy in the cap, half joking:"You say it like fighting zombies is no different from those stupid tests."
"…"
"And besides, I didn't think the freshman's words would actually come true. Like some prophecy…"
"Think what you want. Honestly, I didn't believe that guy at all—I only half-listened because of the food."
Rack recalled Ron Irus's warning—he had emphasized his words:
'If something truly major happens, follow what I've given you.'
The ten people present at that banquet each seemed to be entrusted with something—and Rack wasn't interested in it at all.
Yet he noticed that the more he followed the notes, the more events aligned with Ron's words.Which led them to a single question:
"Is Ron Irus a prophet?"
Of course, it was only a hypothesis—and Rack should really stop thinking about it and focus on recovering.
"So, what happened with the Earth Demon??" Rack asked. He had fainted after seeing a floating skull that looked like some kind of purification artifact, so he didn't know the outcome.
Crackle—crack.
"...Why is this bun so hard—hey, you—!"
Rack suddenly realized he had been sitting alone the whole time.
He had been talking to thin air.
"Damn you, Jax!"
…
Rip—rip!
"Mm, that should do it."
A nurse finished cutting open the cast on a young man's leg—he had been injured in a recent battle.Though he had a Tier-5 mana core and could accelerate healing, he still had to lie still or move only minimally.
Promet lifted his leg and tested a few steps around the room."If there's nothing else, please leave the room or stay quiet so the other patients can rest," the nurse reminded him. He nodded.
"Thank you for taking care of me."
She smiled and moved on to another patient while Promet rubbed his forehead.
My head's been killing me lately.
For some unknown reason, rubbing his temples and taking suppressants for the headaches had become a daily habit.
And then…
"Something wrong, Hadelus?"
Hadelus stood at the door, his shoulder-length hair and massive build making him look like a seasoned warrior.
"...There's a situation. At least three different demons have appeared…"
"It's only been about four days since we came here, and everything's already a tangled mess…"
"What are you talking about? It's only been two days."