The heavy doors creaked open, their sound echoing through the vast marble hall. A faint gust stirred the crimson banners that hung from the high ceiling, each one bearing the sharp insignia of the Verge Faction, a spear cleaving through a circle, symbolizing dominance over weakness.
A woman walked through the corridor, her steps steady and deliberate despite the oppressive silence that filled the chamber. Her name was Seraphine, and though she took the form of a human, her eyes betrayed her true nature, a Nythari, a race once known for their ethereal grace and affinity for spiritual resonance. Her silver irises glowed faintly in the dim light as if reflecting unseen stars.
When she reached the center doors, she paused, inhaling deeply before pushing them open.
Inside, the atmosphere changed immediately. The air was warm, heavy with the scent of roasted meat and rich spices. At a grand table sat a man, his silver armor half-unfastened, dark hair draping across his shoulders. Several attendants moved around him in silence, their movements precise, their fear palpable. He didn't bother to glance up as Seraphine entered.
"Do you have anything significant to report?"His voice was calm, too calm, like the surface of deep water hiding what lurked beneath.
Seraphine lowered herself into a respectful bow. "Yes, my lord. Kael and his team… have been confirmed dead."
The man froze, spoon halfway to his mouth. A beat of silence followed — the kind that pressed on one's chest. The attendants stiffened. Then, with slow deliberation, he set the spoon down.
"Kael… is dead," he repeated, as though the words themselves were too absurd to believe.
"Yes," Seraphine said softly. "His tracking signal ceased entirely. The retrieval team found remnants of Verge insignia near the extraction point. There was evidence of combat, but the area had already been cleared."
The S-rank leader's jaw tightened. His name was Valen Draythe, though most simply called him Lord Valen, a title earned through blood and merciless rise.
Without warning, he reached out and struck one of the servants standing nearby. The blow was so sudden and forceful that the man crumpled to the floor, his tray clattering across the polished stone. The others froze, not daring to breathe.
"Kael was about to ascend to S rank," Valen said, his tone sharp as glass. "He was promising . And now you tell me he dies, in a culling trial designed to weed out E and D ranks?"
Seraphine kept her composure, though the tension clawed at her spine. "That is why I came directly to you. There are… irregularities."
Valen leaned back, eyes narrowing. "Explain."
Seraphine straightened slightly, folding her hands before her as she continued, "It's possible the other factions may have played a role in Kael's death. His ascension would have shifted the balance of power significantly. Verge gaining another S rank would've put us in a dominant position, one the others would not have tolerated quietly."
Valen's fingers tapped against the table, a slow, deliberate rhythm that echoed through the hall. His expression was unreadable, though the air seemed to grow heavier with each passing second.
"You're suggesting one of the other faction leaders sent someone to sabotage him?" Valen asked, his tone measured but laced with venom.
"It's plausible," Seraphine replied. "Kael was reckless, yes, but he wasn't incompetent. For his signal to disappear so abruptly, and for there to be no sign of resistance or extended combat, it points to a precise, decisive strike. Not the work of random beasts or low-ranked participants."
Valen's lips curved into a faint, dangerous smile. "Prosperity… Verdant… Righteous… which of them would be so bold?"
Seraphine lowered her gaze slightly. "Righteous wouldn't, they cling too much to their ideals. Prosperity, perhaps, though they prefer manipulation over open confrontation. Verdant…" She paused, thinking. "They've been consolidating power aggressively. But even then, they wouldn't risk direct conflict within a sanctioned trial.
"Then someone else did it," Valen murmured, voice low. "Someone unaligned… or pretending to be."
His eyes hardened. "Find out who did this. Whoever's responsible will pay for it. I don't care how."
Seraphine bowed. "Yes, my lord."
She turned and left the hall. The heavy doors closed behind her, muting the tension that lingered inside. As she walked down the quiet corridor, her thoughts turned over the situation.
Kael, dead in a low-rank trial… It didn't make sense. Verge might have fewer members than the other factions, but weakness was never their flaw. Their members were trained to survive, to dominate. Kael dying like that, it wasn't random. But she doubted it was a faction plot either.
If Prosperity or Verdant wanted to hurt Verge, they would have done it politically, not with a single strike. No, this felt isolated, an outlier. Someone with power, but no affiliation.
Seraphine's expression hardened as she stepped into the cold air outside the building. Whoever did it… they'll show themselves again. And when they do, The Verge will make sure they regret it.
Seraphine stepped out of the Verge compound, her mind still caught in a spiral of thoughts. The marble steps beneath her feet gleamed in the afternoon light, though she barely noticed them. An isolated incident… or something worse?
She was so lost in thought that she didn't notice the figure rounding the corner until she collided straight into him.
Her breath hitched as she stumbled back, the impact far harder than she expected, like running into a wall.
"Ah, sorry," she started, but the man had already reached out to steady her. His hand was firm, his expression calm, almost disarmingly so.
"You should be more careful," he said, his tone gentle but detached.
She blinked up at him, a tall figure with dark hair and sharp eyes that seemed to hold more depth than an E rank should. His shirt was plain, almost unremarkable, but the strength in his stance was impossible to miss.
Before she could respond, he gave a polite nod, stepped around her, and continued down the corridor.
Seraphine stood frozen for a moment, her heart skipping. Her gaze flicked down, her cheeks warming as she realized she hadn't imagined it, he hadn't even budged when she ran into him. And she could still remember the faint, solid press of his chest under her palms.
She quickly shook her head, scolding herself under her breath. "Get it together, Seraphine…"
Pulling up the faint scan marker on his back, her eyes caught the faint, flickering rank identifier. E-rank.
Her brief fluster twisted into exasperation. "Of course," she muttered quietly. "Figures nothing ever goes right."
Still, as she continued down the walkway, the image of his calm, unreadable expression wouldn't quite leave her mind. Try as she might to push it aside, it lingered, uninvited and annoyingly persistent.
Hyun-Jae, who walked at an easy pace through the vast training complex, hands tucked loosely in his pockets. Each section he passed bore the marks of its controlling faction, Verdant's greenery spilling across marble arches, Verge's sharp crimson banners, Prosperity's gilded walls that seemed to flaunt wealth more than strength.
"So that was an S-rank, huh…" he muttered under his breath, recalling the silver-eyed woman he'd bumped into earlier. She hadn't felt particularly intimidating, just graceful, almost too human for the power she supposedly held. Still, he knew better than to judge someone by appearances. Strength didn't always radiate outward; sometimes it hid, deep and quiet, like a coiled blade.
His gaze drifted toward the horizon where shimmering towers stretched into the light. So many people must have died while I was gone… The thought came unbidden, heavy and bitter. The tournament had already claimed more lives than he could count.
He stopped for a moment, looking up at the sprawling sky. "Soo-Min…" he whispered.
He could almost see her in his mind, the determined glint in her eyes, the way she always refused to back down. She was probably fine. She had to be. If she'd survived the earlier trials, she'd have found her place by now, maybe even joined one of the stronger factions.
Still, the idea of finding out for sure made his stomach tighten. He wasn't ready to face whatever answer waited, whether it was relief or grief.
"Not yet," he murmured to himself, shaking his head. "If she's alive, she'll be fine. She always is."
Hyun-Jae exhaled and started walking again, a quiet resolve forming behind his calm expression. For now, he would move at his own pace. No factions. No alliances. Just him, his system, and the path ahead.
"Guess I'll just go with the flow," he said with a faint smile. "And get stronger my own way."
Hyun-Jae entered the damaged section of the training facility again, the familiar hum of inactive machinery greeting him. Dust floated lazily through the dim air, settling over cracked panels and flickering holo-screens. Despite its ruined state, he felt oddly at peace here. It was quiet, no factions arguing, no arrogant challengers, just a space that belonged to no one but him.
He walked to the center of the floor and placed his hand on one of the terminals. The faint blue light flickered alive, barely responding to his command. "Guess it still works," he murmured. "You'll do."
He was about to start a new simulation when a familiar voice called out from behind him.
"Hyun-Jae?"
He turned slightly, recognizing the soft but firm tone. Lyrelle stood at the doorway, her expression torn between curiosity and confusion.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, stepping inside and glancing around at the broken equipment.
"Training," Hyun-Jae said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Lyrelle blinked, then let out a short laugh. "Here? You do realize most of this equipment barely functions, right? The energy conduits are fried, and the simulation nodes are half offline."
He shrugged. "Still works enough for what I need."
She hesitated, studying him for a moment. "So you really aren't in any faction…"
"Nope."
Her fingers fidgeted at her side as though she was debating whether to say what was on her mind. After a few seconds, she took a breath and said, "Then… how about training with me instead? My faction, Verdant, controls one of the better facilities. You could get proper simulations, advanced gear, even sparring partners."
Hyun-Jae raised an eyebrow. "You're inviting me to train with you?"
Lyrelle nodded, though her eyes darted away briefly. "Yes. I mean… it's not like I am recruiting you or anything, but it'd be better than wasting time here. You helped me back in the trial, so consider this a small way to repay that."
He looked at her for a moment, silent. On one hand, he preferred solitude, he didn't like owing anyone or getting tangled in faction politics. On the other, it wouldn't hurt to understand Verdant's internal structure… or their strength. If they ever became a problem later, knowing how they operated could be valuable.
Finally, he said, "Fine. Lead the way. But won't your faction mind? A random outsider walking in?"
Lyrelle smirked, a flicker of confidence lighting her face. "They probably won't say a word."
"Probably?" Hyun-Jae asked, slightly amused.
"Definitely," she said, standing a little taller now. "Just trust me on this one."
Hyun-Jae gave a small, resigned sigh, brushing some dust off his shirt as he followed her toward the brighter, more active section of the training complex.
"Alright," he said quietly, more to himself than to her. "Let's see what Verdant's capable of."
The two of them stepped into the Verdant training grounds, and immediately, Hyun-Jae noticed the difference. The air hummed with energy, precise, controlled, disciplined. Training chambers lined the walls, their crystalline cores glowing softly with stored Etherea. Dozens of Verdant members were scattered across the facility, yet as Lyrelle led him in, no one said a word.
They looked. They whispered. But not one dared to approach.
Interesting, Hyun-Jae thought, his gaze flicking from face to face. Either Lyrelle's influence here was stronger than he realized, or these people had learned not to question her choices. Either way, it worked in his favor.
They finally stopped at one of the personal training chambers, a sleek, circular space rimmed with silver conduits and floating projection nodes. The machinery gleamed with recent maintenance, a stark contrast to the half-dead systems in his usual area.
"Here we are," Lyrelle said, gesturing toward the console. "It's one of the better ones. You can go first if you'd like."
Hyun-Jae nodded, stepping forward without hesitation. "Sure."
His eyes scanned the simulation list. The options ranged from basic reflex training to tactical siege scenarios, most with difficulty warnings flashing in red. His finger hovered briefly before selecting the highest-tier scenario available for their rank range.
The room shifted instantly. Energy rippled outward, forming a desolate battlefield under a crimson sky. Blades of wind cut through the air as monsters swarmed from the fog, fast, coordinated, lethal.
At first, Hyun-Jae moved cautiously, reading their movements, feeling out the rhythm. To anyone watching, it looked like he was being pushed back, barely dodging, parrying with split-second reactions. But then his pace changed.
His breathing evened out. His movements sharpened.
The moment he understood the pattern, it was over.
His manifested dagger flashed in his hand, cutting through simulated enemies like air. Every strike was deliberate, calculated, efficient, precise. Within minutes, the entire field dissolved into particles of light.
Lyrelle blinked, mouth slightly open. She had run this same simulation dozens of times and had never cleared it that fast and not without a team.
Hyun-Jae exhaled, rolling his shoulders. "That was… better. Definitely a more worthwhile workout than the one I used before."
He said it so casually, as if what he'd just done wasn't impressive at all. Lyrelle found herself staring for a second longer than she should have. There was something mesmerizing about his calmness, the way he didn't need to prove anything yet somehow did anyway.
"That was the hardest simulation allowed for our ranks," she said finally, almost defensively. "But there are stronger ones, reserved for S-ranks. Those are… shared between all the S Ranks in their own training grounds."
Hyun-Jae nodded thoughtfully. "Shared, huh?" He filed that away in his mind. Shared spaces meant there was likely a limited amounts of training grounds that are able to run a simulation at that level.
Then he looked back at her and stepped aside. "Your turn."
Lyrelle blinked, caught slightly off guard. "Mine?"
"Yeah," he said simply. "You invited me here, didn't you? Let's see how Verdant's rising star trains."
Her cheeks warmed at the underlying teasing tone, but she lifted her chin and stepped forward anyway. "Fine," she said, activating the console. "Don't blink."
Hyun-Jae smirked faintly, folding his arms as the room shifted again, curious to see how she would handle it.
Lyrelle stood in front of the console, determination tightening her jaw. She didn't even glance back at Hyun-Jae before selecting her simulation, the difficulty indicator pulsed a dark orange, a warning that it was well above her current level.
Hyun-Jae noticed, of course. He didn't say anything. He just leaned back slightly, crossing his arms, a faint hint of curiosity in his expression. So she's not just tagging along. She's trying to climb.
The training room shimmered again, reshaping itself into a sprawling forest, the kind that swallowed sound and light alike. A predatory presence lurked within the shadows, fast, unseen, and merciless.
Lyrelle started strong. Her control over her energy was cleaner than before, her strikes efficient, her movements sharp. For a C rank, she was clearly more capable than most. But as the simulation advanced, the enemies multiplied, grew faster, smarter. Her breathing became labored, and her footing faltered slightly as the pressure built.
Hyun-Jae watched, expression unreadable.
Every instinct told him to step in, to deflect one of the incoming attacks, to give her a breather, but he didn't move. He knew better. Helping her now would mean robbing her of the experience she was fighting for. And Lyrelle… she knew that too. He could see it in the way she gritted her teeth, refusing to yield, even as she was pushed to her limit.
Then he noticed it, something strange.
Around Lyrelle's body, faint distortions in the air flickered like heatwaves. It wasn't part of the simulation, it was real. He narrowed his eyes, focusing his senses. Whatever it was, it didn't seem to be hurting her. In fact, it was building. Slowly, rhythmically, like a pulse.
Hyun-Jae didn't think, he just reacted. His Etherea stirred, flowing out of him in a low, controlled current, directed toward her without conscious effort. The light around his hands glowed faintly blue, invisible to everyone but him.
The flicker surrounding Lyrelle flared brighter, responding to the flow of his Etherea, growing stronger, denser, more defined. Then, just as quickly, it burst outward like a flame being smothered by wind.
And in that moment, something inside her clicked.
Lyrelle's body surged with energy. Her strikes became fluid again, her aura brighter, sharper, more focused. She cut down the last of the enemies in a single decisive motion, and the simulation ended in a flash of light.
She blinked, panting, trying to process what had just happened. Then she looked down at her wrist to see the floating words.
[Rank Advancement: C → B]
Her eyes widened. "I, I ranked up?"
Hyun-Jae tilted his head slightly, genuinely surprised. He had seen her improve, but that kind of leap didn't just happen in a single session and its less likely especially in training sessions. Unless…
A small chime echoed in his mind.
[New Skill Acquired: Release]Allows the user to transfer Etherea to another individual.Energy transfer remains temporary unless the receiver is undergoing an advancement.
Hyun-Jae exhaled through his nose, glancing at Lyrelle as she stood there, still awestruck and trembling slightly with residual energy. So that's what it was. His Etherea had given her the final push she needed.
He smiled faintly to himself. Not bad. The skill itself was situational, but in the right moment, it could change everything, especially during combat or when someone stood at the edge of ascension.
As Lyrelle turned toward him, eyes still shining with disbelief, he only said, "Looks like your hard work paid off."
She laughed softly, a mix of relief and wonder in her voice. "I guess… it did."
Hyun-Jae didn't tell her what really happened. Some things were better left unsaid, and besides, watching her take pride in her own strength felt right.
He simply pocketed his hands, gaze calm as ever, while a quiet thought echoed in the back of his mind:
If I can help someone ascend… maybe there's more to this system than just survival.
As they stepped out of the training room, the air outside seemed to shift. Conversations quieted for a moment, replaced by hushed murmurs and curious glances from those nearby. Word spread fast, Lyrelle, once a C rank, now radiated the unmistakable aura of a B rank.
Hyun-Jae caught the way eyes followed them, some surprised, others envious. He could already tell this would stir attention she didn't want.
He glanced sideways at her. "You're someone special, huh?"
Lyrelle blinked, caught off guard. "W-what makes you say that?"
He gestured subtly to the people around them. "The way they're looking at you. You don't get that kind of attention just for ranking up."
Her lips pressed together, and for a moment, she hesitated. It was clear she didn't want to talk about it. Hyun-Jae noticed the discomfort and shrugged, voice calm.
"It's fine if you don't want to say. I'm not here to dig into other people's business."
That seemed to catch her off guard again, his tone wasn't dismissive, just… accepting. The silence lingered a beat longer before Lyrelle exhaled softly, deciding he deserved some honesty.
"I'm the sister of the Verdant faction's leader," she said quietly. "But our relationship… isn't exactly great."
Hyun-Jae looked at her, his expression unreadable, not shock, not curiosity. Just understanding.
"Hmm. That explains a lot," he said simply.
Lyrelle tilted her head. "You're… not surprised?"
He gave a faint shake of his head. "Not really. You've got this kind of presence but its just a bit buried under self-doubt. Besides," he added, a hint of dry humor creeping into his tone, "if talent runs in the family, maybe you'll hit S rank before you even realize it."
Lyrelle blinked, then smiled faintly, color touching her cheeks. "You think so, huh?"
Hyun-Jae looked ahead, already walking toward the exit. "I don't really think much about things like this," he said over his shoulder, "I just call it how I see it."
Lyrelle followed after him, her smile lingering longer than she expected. The whispers around them continued, but she didn't care.