The clash of steel rang out across the outdoor training grounds, echoing without pause.

All the candidates seated on the steps couldn’t take their eyes off the duel between Ao and Iris.

Ao wielded a saber nearly a meter and a half long as if it were an extension of her arm, her strikes flowing like a dazzling dance. Her display alone was enough to command everyone’s attention.

The speed of her saber was so blistering that even the melee specialists often lost track of her movements.

Yet Iris blocked every strike with her two-handed sword.

Not with ease, however.

Ao left her no chance to counter, driving her back step by step.

By the time their weapons had clashed several times, Iris had already been forced far from their original starting point.

Iris’s ability is overwhelming, and her stamina aptitude outclasses mine. I can’t give her even a single opening. I’ll push without pause!

Ao’s attacks were brilliant, swift—and patterned.

That rhythm gradually sharpened Iris’s responses.

And that was precisely what Ao had intended.

Once her opponent became accustomed to the rhythm, the moment of overconfidence would create an opening.

The instant Ao shifted her stance, her saber veered off its original line.

From shoulder to waist—the sudden change made Iris’s body freeze for a fraction of a second.

Whoosh!

“!”

Ao’s eyes widened.

Her saber cut through empty air.

Iris had triggered an acceleration skill, leaping back to widen the gap.

“….”

Ao narrowed her eyes.

As expected. Iris won’t fall that easily.

Any other candidate would’ve been cut down by that strike. Ao’s attack was sharp enough.

But Iris reacted in that fleeting instant with a simple, flawless choice: a movement skill.

She steadied her breathing, worn thin from defending nonstop.

This isn’t it.

Emptiness flickered in her eyes.

Ao’s movements are superb—fast, precise, sharp beneath the flourish. Lose focus for even a moment, and you’d fall. But…

Her lips pressed together.

In the end, if I just watch carefully, every motion is visible. Responding isn’t hard. This is just another duel against a skilled melee fighter. Nothing more.

A memory flashed in her mind—the boy who had trapped her with thorny vines while holding only a shield.

Nam Yein was fundamentally different. I had underestimated him, thinking he was nothing but a talentless weakling with F in stamina and energy. His movements looked ordinary, almost mundane. I planned to toy with him, then cut him down with the Loser’s Sword, as I had so many others. But…

Her hand brushed her wrist.

The sensation was still vivid: the vines that had bound her, sprouting from blackened ground.

In an instant, I was the prey. For the first time in my life, I tasted complete, crushing defeat.

The shock of the reversal.

The despair of helplessness.

The torment of being overwhelmed by merciless status effects.

The shame of being beaten by Nam Yein.

And the disgust she felt toward herself for losing to someone so “weak.”

She had never known such dark emotions. They clung to her still, refusing to let go.

And in the wake of those feelings, something inside her had shifted.

Ao charged again. Iris blocked, her thoughts cold.

Empty.

When Iris held firm once more, Ao leapt back, sheathing her saber.

Her body glowed blue. She was activating her ability.

Iris raised her greatsword. Golden light wrapped around it—the Loser’s Sword.

Ao drew with a snap.

A translucent blade of blue mana, wide enough to cleave ten people at once, shot toward Iris.

She swung her sword.

Wham!

The golden light erased the blue slash.

“Haaah!”

Ao’s strikes grew faster. Saber sheathed, drawn, sheathed, drawn—again and again.

Dozens of mana blades slashed toward Iris, but each one evaporated against her golden sword.

And Iris pressed forward with every swing.

Unlike before, she was the one advancing relentlessly.

“Ugh…”

Sweat dripped down Ao’s face.

No matter how many strikes she unleashed, Iris closed the distance like an unstoppable tank facing arrows.

Until finally—

Iris stood within striking range.

Ao tried to leap back with her saber sheathed.

But Iris was faster. She slammed her foot down, surging forward.

“Kh…!”

Ao tried to draw, but her stance faltered.

Already, Iris’s glowing blade was arcing down toward her head.

Ao’s saber hadn’t even cleared halfway from its sheath.

“Enough!”

Abel lunged between them, catching Iris by the wrist.

“….”

As Iris dismissed her ability, the radiant gold light vanished.

“This match goes to Iris. No objections, right?”

He looked at Ao.

“…None. It’s my loss.”

Ao sank to the ground with a wry smile.

Iris extended a hand and helped her up.

“Alright, that concludes the personal duels! Take a short break, then lunch, and afterward we’ll be heading into the dungeon again! Back to the dorms, everyone!” Abel announced to the gathered candidates.

Iris walked back to her squad, her thoughts murky.

Empty.

She had won. But no spark, no thrill remained.

Her expression stayed rigid, her chest tight with the frustration of an incomplete burn.

That day’s external training ended with just one dungeon.

On the bus back to the training center—earlier than the day before—Abel stood smiling at us from the front.

“Curious why we’re heading back so early?”

“Because another nightmare’s waiting inside the training center?” Jen muttered, half-complaining.

A few others wore agreeing looks.

After all, Abel’s smile always heralded misfortune.

Not this time, though.

I studied his face.

“Well, you could call it tough. If you’re not used to it, you won’t even be able to get the words out,” he said with a sly grin.

The students stared at him in puzzled silence.

“Tomorrow, you’ll be having team battles. Each academy’s squad will be pitted against another. And this program… is the only part of HAUT training that will be broadcast to the public.”

The students immediately erupted in chatter.

“Wait, that means we’ll be on TV?” Maria’s voice shot up higher than usual.

“That’s right. Every one of you will be on TV.”

The bus buzzed louder.

I glanced sideways. Lumina, sitting next to Meiling, had gone pale.

“And the reason we’re finishing early today is for interviews.”

“I–interviews…?”

Now it was Meiling’s turn to lose all color from her face.

“Reporters from each network will be coming to cover you. It won’t take long—about an hour and a half. After that, it’s back to your usual training and classes. So think ahead about how you’ll answer their questions. If you don’t, you’ll freeze up on the spot. Make sure to show your best side.”

With that, Abel sat back down in his seat.

The students’ chatter rose again.

I looked at Lumina.

“Lumina.”

“Y-yes!?” She straightened stiffly, both fists pressed against her knees.

“No need to be so nervous.” I smiled.

“Just say something like, ‘I’ll do my best,’ or, ‘I’ll work hard.’ That’s usually enough to satisfy reporters.”

“O-okay…”

“I’ll have to be interviewed too, right?” Seo Yui asked beside me. Her face was as expressionless as ever, but I caught the flicker of unease in her eyes.

“All the Valhall people are behind bars now. You’ll be fine,” I reassured her, already knowing what weighed on her.

Back when I crushed Valhall, I had forced Jodie—who normally wouldn’t even be part of that event—to get involved, ensuring their leader couldn’t escape. That single choice erased any chance of the usual revenge scenario.

“And even if someone did come for revenge, it wouldn’t just be us. Eleanor and even Iris would fight by your side.”

“…Alright.”

For once, Seo Yui smiled.

The interviews took place in the main auditorium.

Six broadcasting stations showed up, including PBC—the same one that had interviewed us after our survival during the anomaly.

The one supervising wasn’t Abel but Jang Jinseong, who appeared earlier than usual. Abel was practically a celebrity himself, so maybe he’d deliberately stayed away.

As anyone could’ve guessed, the academy that drew the most questions and camera time wasn’t Crystal…

…but us, Gwangcheon.

“What are your thoughts on Gwangcheon being the current frontrunner?”

“Gwangcheon has never taken the top spot in HAUT before. Do you think this year will mark a new chapter in its history?”

“Rumor has it your team’s levels are far above the average of thirty. Is that true?”

The questions poured in relentlessly.

And soon enough, they strayed far from HAUT.

“Nam Yein and Lumina, you stopped Cosmos’ terror attack at Porter Department Store. Did you know the ringleader was level sixty?”

“Nam Yein, there are rumors you’re acquainted with the Mystery Craftsman. Is that true?”

“Nam Yein, several witnesses saw you with Mayor Cheon Jiweon at Platinum Wings, the equipment shop. What’s your relationship with her?”

“Nam Yein, your ability aptitudes are F/F/C—numbers far too low to normally become a hunter. How did you qualify as a HAUT candidate? Is there a secret?”

“As the only male in Gwangcheon’s squad, is there someone among your teammates you’re interested in?”

“….”

Hmm.

Telling Lumina earlier to just say, I’ll do my best, might have been fine for her.

But clearly, that advice didn’t apply to me.

Under the endless barrage, I wanted nothing more than to smash the cameras and tell them all to get lost. Maybe then, no reporters would bother with me ever again.

“You okay, Yein?” Seo Yui whispered at my ear.

‘Crap.’

I realized too late that my face must’ve betrayed me.

Lumina was looking at me anxiously. Meiling, meanwhile, was glaring daggers at the reporters, her expression twisted with anger.

I quickly forced a strained smile.

“My apologies. I’m not feeling well today, and we still have training and lectures ahead. I need to pace myself, so I can’t answer all of your questions. I’m sorry.”

I dipped my head slightly, then gestured for my squad to head out.

“Wait, just one more question!”

“Nam Yein, please—just answer this one!”

The reporters surged forward, trying to stop me.

“Thank you, but we’ll end Gwangcheon’s coverage here,” Jang Jinseong cut in, blocking them.

“You still have forty-five minutes of interview time left. Don’t you think it’s only fair to give the other academies their share?”

His tone was even, almost detached.

I glanced around. The other five academies’ students looked utterly miserable—so much so it was hard not to feel sorry for them.

I hadn’t intended it, not at all.

“If you don’t wish to cover the other candidates, we can end things now,” Jang Jinseong added. He turned to us.

“Nam Yein says he isn’t well. Please take care of him.”

“Yes, sir!” Lumina answered loudly.

“Let’s go. You okay? Need me to help you walk?” Seo Yui asked, feigning concern.

I almost laughed. She really did enjoy acting.

That night.

After finishing all our lectures and returning to the dorms, we found the team battle bracket posted on the bulletin board.

“Oh.”

I smiled as I scanned the upper part.

Finally. Martial God versus Magica.

A match we hadn’t gotten to see during the divided melee and magic duels.

I glanced back.

Both Martial God and Magica students stared at the bracket with tight lips, their faces tense.

(End of Chapter)