Multiple men stood in the middle of a flame deep in the woods, their postures rigid with anticipation. All eyes fixed on the leader.
"We just have to wait for him to come back with news," one of the men said. "Hopefully he returns quickly."
The leader spun around, his gaze piercing. "I agree. If he doesn't show up in the next twenty minutes, we'll have to search for him ourselves." He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. "And if we go looking, we might have to kill something."
They stood motionless, black clothing rippling in the wind that nearly extinguished their fire. The flames persisted, flickering defiantly.
"I don't think you'll be waiting for anyone," an old man said.
He emerged from behind one of the men and seized him by the neck. The man's eyes flew wide in shock—the old man's grip was devastatingly strong.
"You'll be joining us instead," the old man hissed. "The Church of the Serpent welcomes you."
He knocked the man unconscious with brutal efficiency. As the body crumpled to the ground, the old man's smile was predatory. He turned toward the others, deliberately avoiding the leader. Not yet.
The leader exploded into action, drawing a massive sword from his back. "You didn't come without a weapon, did you? How foolish! You came with just your bare hands? That's not very smart."
The old man chuckled darkly. "You think I care?"
In a flash, the old man's hand wrapped around the leader's throat. "I'm faster and stronger than you."
The leader struggled to move, tried to force his sword toward his attacker, but the old man's other hand shot out and seized his arm, pinning it in place. The remaining men rushed forward, swords drawn, determined to free their leader from this ancient freak.
In a blink, they all collapsed.
Another man stood among them—not as old as the first, appearing to be in his mid-forties. He had jet-black hair and wore a mask of pitch darkness that revealed only his eyes.
"I don't think that's a good idea," the masked man said.
Without even blinking, he glanced skyward. Within ten seconds, every attacker lay sprawled on the ground.
The leader tried to swing his sword, but he couldn't. The old man's hands constricted around his neck and arm like iron shackles. Would the masked man kill him? How had he gotten himself into such a predicament?
*We were supposed to be finding that Arthur kid,* the leader thought desperately. *Making him join our group of the magicless. How could this happen? Who orchestrated this madness? What is the Church of the Serpent? I've never heard of such a cult.*
His mind raced while he was being choked, his vision darkening at the edges. *I can't keep conscious much longer.*
"I have a message for you," the leader gasped, staring down at himself before lifting his eyes to meet the old man's gaze with burning hatred. "If you really think you can take down the Cult of the Magicless, you're wrong."
The old man chuckled. "You think so? You think a bunch of magicless freaks can take me down? How foolish."
"All I'll say is this—you're going to die," the leader spat, his laughter manic and desperate. "A terrible, horrific death. And I'll be there to see it. To see your blood drip, your body mutilated, your life drain from your eyes. You might be acting cold now, but when you die, your eyes will be wide with shock. You won't even know what hit you." He drew a ragged breath. "That's all I have to say. One more thing—go to hell."
He finally passed out.
More men wearing the same black masks as the younger man appeared and collected the bodies. The old man continued to hold the leader in his grasp as they moved out of the forest with all their captives.
The old man smiled as he led the group. "Now it's time to take over this world," he murmured darkly, walking into the darkness with his followers trailing behind.
---
Inside the white room in the academy, Arthur looked up. He was older—no longer a seven-year-old, but appearing to be about sixteen. He stared down at his hands in disbelief.
*When did this happen? Since when did I grow older?*
All the memories flooded back—getting beaten down, brought back up, for what felt like years. It must have been that amount of time, but of course, since time had stopped, no one else had aged. Not even Soul.
Soul stood at the other end of the room. "I told you this would happen," he said. "I told you that only you would age in this time stop. But as I said before, no one's going to care about you jumping from seven to sixteen. Most people know my power." He paused, his expression unreadable. "And don't think this is the only power I have. I have many more."
Soul's cold expression no longer shocked Arthur. He'd seen it for years—at least, what felt like years to him.
"You're right. What you put me through was hell," Arthur said, his voice trembling with barely suppressed rage. "Years of beatings, years of training without mercy—"
"And surprisingly, you were able to endure it," Soul interrupted, his dark hair never shifting even as he walked toward Arthur. "Years of beatings, years of training without wanting to quit—that shows real determination." He stopped. "Also, don't think I didn't notice, Arthur. I know you have no magic. In fact, you're one of the very few people I've met who have none."
Arthur stared, his jaw clenched. Soul was right—Arthur had no magic whatsoever.
*Wait, who were the other people without magic in Soul's life?*
Curious despite his anger, he looked up at Soul. "Who is the other person you know without magic?"
"My sister," Soul said, his expression still cold. "When I was young, my parents wanted all the magic they could get. They took my sister and locked her in a room. Within weeks, they drained all her magic through vile spells they used on her daily."
Arthur's face fell. "I'm sorry that happened to you."
"It's all good," Soul said flatly. "They're dead now, so it doesn't really matter. Besides, she's learned to live without magic. I'm sure she's fine. There's no need for sympathy."
He continued, "My sister has learned to be comfortable without magic. Things she used to do with magic, she learned to do without. I always had to help her with these things—after all, she'd never learned how to function without using magic. After a few months, she eventually grasped the concept. She's a quick learner, just like you." His expression remained cold. "After I train you, I'm going to train her next."
"But she's a girl," Arthur protested.
"So? Does it matter?" Soul's voice sharpened, his eyes flashing dangerously. "If people don't push her in life, she's going to get nowhere. Breaking limits, pushing boundaries—her parents are dead. Me being her older brother, I can't go easy on her. I'll treat her the same way I treated you. I will break her down and build her back up, break her down and build her back up. No remorse, no sympathy, no hesitation, no holding back. If you feel sympathy toward the person you're training, you'll want to go softer on them, and eventually you will. Being sympathetic isn't going to keep her alive—most likely, it'll get her killed one day."
Arthur stood absorbing the words with shock. "You can't be serious. You'd do that to your own sister?"
"It's what needs to be done," Soul said, his voice like ice. "If I don't do it, no one will. Eventually, she'll end up weak, pitiful, and she'll die. Whether I'm sympathetic about it or not, it'll still happen regardless."
The white room finally opened. The door swung wide after what felt like years of being closed—though in reality, only two seconds had passed. Time had stopped for everyone else.
Rocco had barely moved away from the room when he saw them emerge. Soul came out first, then Arthur. Rocco knew Arthur would grow during the training, but he hadn't expected this much.
Arthur smiled and waved, though the gesture felt hollow. Rocco smiled back uncertainly.
"Now go to your classes," Rocco said.
*It feels weird having to go to class after years of being absolutely abused by my own mentor,* Arthur thought bitterly.
Soul simply nodded and walked off, leaving Arthur to follow.
*Come to think of it, I've never used my inspect skill on him,* Arthur realized. He activated his void system and used inspect.
**Name:** Soul
**Age:** 17
**Hobbies:** Training people
**Weapons:** No weapons at the moment
**Additional Stats:** Will be locked. The system will notify you when all stats of living and nonliving organisms are unlocked.
*What do you know—he has no hobbies, just as I thought.*
Arthur closed the black interface and started following Soul. Soul seemed a bit out of sight, so Arthur ran to catch up as they both walked down the hallway.
---
Both Arthur and Soul continued walking until they finally found their destination: the Testing Assembly Room. inside, her movements sharp and aggressive.
The room looked far bigger than it should have been, like an auditorium. A large crystal stood in the center, and one kid was about to touch it.
"Come on, Ash, touch the crystal already," the woman said impatiently. "We don't have all day."
Ash stared nervously. He didn't know if his fire magic would be good enough. If it wasn't, they'd kick him out of the academy entirely. He didn't want that.
Ash eventually touched the crystal. It glowed orange.
"You have B-ranked fire magic," the woman said curtly. "You're accepted. Oh yes, the rules. Forgive me, everyone, but I have to say the rules again because two people decided to come in late." Her gaze cut to Arthur and Soul like a blade. "If you've already heard the rules, you may do as you wish with your friends until I'm done."
The woman looked directly at Arthur and Soul, her gaze sharp and accusatory.
"All right. In order to be accepted, you must have a magic class of C-tier or above. If you have D-tier, F-tier, or E-tier magic, you'll be automatically kicked out. No conversation needed. Just kicked out. Understand?"
Both of them nodded.
"Since Soul has already gone through this, I'm assuming you are the one who's supposed to be touching the crystal."
Arthur was nervous, but he nodded. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He knew he had no magic—he was magicless. He wasn't beyond magic; he had negative magic, which was technically what achieved his system in the first place by obtaining negative magic when that shadow wall in the cave struck him with that pencil. What strange magic it was. It wasn't even that long ago now that he thought about it. He was terrified about what the results would be. Maybe he could voice match or something, but that might not be the case, and maybe it wouldn't show up as negative magic.
Arthur walked up to the crystal, nervous. His thoughts worried, about to be answered. He placed his hand on the crystal. Results were about to be shown.