The dungeon shifted.
Zael felt it instantly.
The air thickened, mana compressing as the stone beneath his boots rearranged itself with a low grinding sound. The narrow tunnels of the earlier segments pulled apart, reforming into something vast and oppressive. Light bled from glowing runes carved into towering pillars, revealing a circular arena large enough to house a small battlefield.
Chains hung from the ceiling, swaying without wind.
The temperature rose.
This was the final segment.
Outside, in the grand observation hall, the mood had already changed.
Most of the screens had gone dark, displaying the names of students who had completed their trials. Nobles leaned back in their seats, sipping drinks while discussing performances. Younger students pressed close to the barriers, pointing excitedly whenever a screen replayed a particularly flashy kill.
"Seraphina Oregon finished already?"
"Level five, of course."
"As expected from an epic-grade talent."
Tyron Blaze's name appeared shortly after.
"Lightning Speed… frightening mobility."
"He'll be a dangerous one."
Then Selvig.
His screen showed him clad in newly formed armor — thick, angular plates covering his entire body, with a massive hammer in hand.
"Hero-grade Armor Creation."
"Look at that output."
"He crushed the boss in under three minutes."
Laughter and applause followed.
Only a few screens remained active.
Zael's was one of them.
"Still alive?"
"How?"
"Is he hiding again?"
"With a common talent, he shouldn't have lasted this long."
Some mocked.
Some watched out of morbid curiosity.
Inside the dungeon, Zael exhaled slowly.
The arena's center began to裂裂裂—
Stone split apart.
A massive shape rose from beneath the floor.
It had the lower body of a lion and the upper body of a humanoid. Its skin was layered with black, obsidian-like plates, glowing cracks of molten red running between them. Two curved horns jutted from its skull, and in its right hand, it held a weapon formed from fused bone and rock.
The final boss.
It inhaled.
Heat rippled outward in waves.
Zael tightened his grip on his sword.
To the dungeon's senses, he was nothing special — a boy in white-grade armor with a common-grade talent. The monster roared and charged.
Its footsteps shattered stone.
The club came down in a crushing arc.
Zael dove aside.
The weapon struck the floor where he had stood, pulverizing stone into fragments that flew like shrapnel. He sprinted forward and slashed at its leg. Sparks erupted where his blade struck its armor.
The beast snarled and backhanded him.
Zael was sent skidding across the arena, rolling hard before slamming into a pillar. Pain exploded through his ribs.
Outside, gasps rose.
"That should've killed him."
"He's still moving?"
"Why doesn't he quit?"
The monster advanced.
Step.
Step.
Step.
Zael forced himself upright.
It lowered its horns and lunged.
He dove beneath it and stabbed upward into a glowing seam between its plates.
The creature roared and slammed its arm into the ground, cracking the arena. Heat poured from the wound like molten blood.
It swung wildly.
One strike clipped his shoulder, spinning him across the stone. He rolled, barely managing to rise before the monster raised its weapon again.
Zael ran toward it.
Not away.
Toward it.
At the last second, he slid beneath the club and planted his foot against its chest, driving his sword upward into the blazing core beneath its neck.
The blade pierced through.
The monster froze.
Cracks spread across its body.
Then it collapsed, dissolving into fragments of obsidian and fading red light.
Silence filled the arena.
Zael dropped to one knee, chest heaving.
Warmth surged through his body.
EXP Gained.
His muscles tightened.
Level Up.
His vision sharpened.
Level Up.
Another surge followed.
His heartbeat quickened.
A pressure formed inside him.
A ceiling.
An invisible wall.
Level Cap Reached: 10.
Awakening Task Required to progress further.
Zael's breath caught.
Level ten…
That shouldn't be possible.
The dungeon was calibrated so that even perfect clears only allowed one to reach Level 10 at most.
He closed his eyes.
So that's what Supreme Blessing does...
He stood slowly and walked toward the exit portal, forcing exhaustion into his posture.
---
Outside, his screen finally faded.
"He cleared?"
"Barely."
"That was ugly."
"But he survived."
Zael stepped out of the portal, armor cracked, sword nicked, blood dried along his sleeve.
A staff member approached holding a translucent Recording Crystal.
"Place your hand on it and synchronize your status."
Zael did so.
The crystal glowed faintly.
In this academy, the Recording Crystal did not perform a deep scan. It merely recorded the information the student's body naturally projected — a surface-level synchronization meant to track participation and prevent fraud. Deep scans were reserved for nobles, criminals, or inter-world examinations.
Zael focused.
He suppressed the pressure of his true level, letting only a portion of his status surface.
The crystal shimmered.
"Reported Level?" the instructor asked.
"…Level six."
The crystal pulsed once and confirmed it.
No alarm.
No rejection.
No contradiction.
The instructor nodded and wrote it down.
"Next."
The list updated.
Seraphina Oregon — Level 10
Tyron Blaze — Level 10
Selvig — Level 8
Zael Nightshade — Level 6
Middle of the pack.
Perfect.
"Figures."
"At least he didn't fail."
"Level four with a common talent is about right."
Selvig laughed when he saw it.
"So you crawled to six?" he mocked. "You looked half-dead."
Zael kept his head lowered. "I passed."
Selvig stepped closer. "Don't mistake luck for skill. In the final trial, you won't last."
Tyron moved between them.
"That's enough."
Selvig scoffed and turned away.
Seraphina stood apart, her gaze cold and distant, offering no defense.
Inside, Zael's heart pounded.
They think I'm six…
Good.
The instructor raised his voice.
"The first stage of the academy trial is complete. All who passed will proceed to the awakening evaluation."
Zael looked toward the towering academy gates ahead.
An awakening task awaited him.
But he would not complete it yet.
Not until he understood everything.
Not until he could hide it perfectly.
And when he finally crossed that threshold…
They would no longer be laughing.
---