Kyle's gaze lingered on Vice Principal's retreating back.

Her silver hair swayed gently with each step. It has an almost casual grace in her movements, and then, just as suddenly as she walked, space itself warped around her.

A whirlpool of purple light bloomed into existence in front of her. It swirled like an inverted purple storm as threads of mana coiled inwards around it, condensing into a perfectly formed teleportation portal.

It opened without a sound, almost as if a curtain of space had been pulled back from reality itself.

Seris stepped forward, disappearing in the portal.

The portal folded in on itself like water closing over a stone, until all that remained was the hollow silence of the training hall.

Kyle found himself staring at the empty spot where she had disappeared, his lips parted slightly before he let out an audible sigh.

"Haa…"

The sound echoed faintly against the pristine white walls of the massive training hall.

His attention shifted downward to the object in his hand.

The so-called training tool Seris had handed him.

A skein, a tangled sphere of thread, pulsating faintly with dormant mana inside a knotted mess.

It looked harmless at first glance, almost laughably so.

But the longer he stared at it, the more oppressive it felt. The loops twisted around one another in a maddening pattern, forming a labyrinth of intricated knots that his eyes almost hurt from just looking at them.

The threads themselves were impossibly thin, just a little bit thicker than hair, but they carried weight and density as though they had carved them from condensed mana itself.

And worse of all, the whole skein pulsed with the faint mana as if trying to mock him.

'…Let's not waste more time.'

He dropped down to the padded white floor, settling into a cross-legged position.

The training hall stretched endlessly around him.

He held the skein between his hands, his blue eyes scanned the threads once more, confusion settling in his expression.

Where to even start? Seris hadn't given him any instructions.

Not even a single hint.

He almost chuckled at that, but then remembered.

She was always like that.

Even in the novel 'Path of Transcendence', Seris had never been the type to hand her students answers.

Not to Cedric, not to anyone.

She guided them, yes, but she expected her students to figure things out for themselves.

That was her way.

It looked ruthless to some, but it was effective.

'So… figure it out, huh?'

Kyle rotated the skein slowly, turning it over in his palms, his eyes narrowed as he searched for a loose end.

After several long moments—

'Oh... here it is.'

A single purple thread peeked out, tucked just beneath a coil. His lips curled slightly into a faint smile.

'Okay, now let's take it slow.'

'Concentrate.'

He closed his eyes, drew a long breath, and reached inward.

Mana stirred within his core, rising like a tide. It coursed through his mana pathways, filling his chest, his arms, until it reached his palms.

The skein shivered, responding immediately, glowing faintly as his energy seeped into it.

The tangled mass lifted, floating just above his hands; every thread within it shimmered with a faint purple hue, saturated with his mana.

He could feel them now, hundreds of delicate and intricate strands, each one humming with mana.

The problem was… they were all tangled.

He had to find the one he needed.

So he searched.

One thread at a time.

'Not this.'

'Not this one.'

'Not this one either.'

.

.

.

The minutes dragged into hours.

He searched through the threads, inch by inch. He was careful not to push too hard, fearful that a single misstep would tighten the entire mess.

Sweat beaded on his forehead, rolled down his temple, and dripped onto the white floor beneath him.

The skein hovered above unwaveringly.

Kyle's body grew heavier by the hour.

His back ached, his hands started to tremble faintly, but still he sat, refusing to let go.

Six hours passed in silence.

The skein still floated, glowing faintly in the air.

Kyle's white hair was plastered to his forehead, damp with sweat.

His blue eyes were bloodshot now, narrowed in raw concentration. His breaths came slowly, each one steadying his trembling focus.

'Just a little more…'

Drip.

A bead of sweat slid from his chin, striking the padded floor. The sound seemed unnaturally loud in the empty training hall.

'… Just a little more—'

There.

His eyes widened slightly.

He had found it—

The loose end.

The elusive thread he'd been chasing for hours.

"...There."

His voice cracked with exhaustion but carried a flicker of triumph.

Carefully—

So carefully... he poured mana into the loose thread.

The tip glowed brighter as it pulsed with purple light.

'… Now pull.'

He willed the thread to move. His mana surged, coaxing it forward,

But then, something slipped.

The thread didn't loosen. Instead, the knot beside it jerked tighter.

Kyle froze.

The glow flickered, faltered—

And the skein collapsed.

Thump—

It fell, hitting the padded floor with a dull thump before rolling to a stop.

The purple glow faded completely, leaving nothing but a dull purple husk.

Kyle's jaw dropped, his hands fell uselessly to his lap. His shoulders slumped.

'…I—I failed.'

The thought cut sharper than he had expected, his chest tightened with frustration, exhaustion, a bitter cocktail of defeat.

Six hours.

Six damn hours, and nothing.

Zero Progress.

His hand rose, fingers raking back through his damp white hair, tugging them in frustration.

'Even after all that…'

A sudden manic laugh escaped him

"Pfftt—"

It slipped past his lips before he could stop it.

He lowered his head, his shoulders trembling, caught between frustration and absurd amusement.

Because this task...

This was absurd, impossible, ridiculous task…

What the hell had Master been thinking?

Did she honestly expect him to solve this?

To just sit down and untangle a web of impossibly fine, mana-infused threads by sheer willpower alone?

It was madness.

A cruel joke disguised as training.

He could almost hear her calm and merciless voice in his head.

— Figure it out.

Kyle's lips twitched into a grin despite himself.

'She's insane. Completely insane.'

He looked at the skein again, lying harmlessly on the floor.

And yet… his chest stirred. Not with disappointment, not anymore.

Something else.

Something sharper.

A burning fire.

Because if Master thought this was going to break him, she was wrong.

Giving up after just six hours?

That wasn't him.

That wasn't what he wanted to be.

The challenge wasn't humiliation; it was an invitation.

A glove thrown at his feet.

The thought of surrendering so soon… it was laughable.

'No, this... this is just the start.'

His eyes narrowed, glowing beneath damp strands of hair. His muscles still trembled, but his will burned hotter and steadier now.

'If I gave up now, after a six hours, then what's the point? If this was easy, it wouldn't even be worth doing. No… I'll untangle this. Every single thread. No matter how long it takes.'

He could feel it already, that strange spark that came not from despair, but from the fight itself.

He knew the task was absurd, impossible, and yet dared to prove otherwise.

He reached down, scooping the skein back into his hands. His fingers curled tightly around it, and his lips curved into a determined smirk.

"Fuck you."

He muttered in a low voice, almost affectionate in its defiance.

The sphere pulsed faintly in response, as though mocking him again.

But Kyle only tightened his grip, the burn in his chest rising.

'Laugh all you want. I'll tear you apart thread by thread. You'll see.'

The silence of the training hall swallowed his vow.

The battle hadn't ended.

It had only just begun.

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