Rey exited the registration hall through a side gate.
Just a few steps away, he could already see the same endless line he had stood in moments ago. Faces filled with impatience. Heat. Boredom. Silent desperation.
Some stared at him.
Others stared at the handful of people leaving the hall alongside him.
Envy was unmistakable.
Rey smirked faintly.
He had been one of them not long ago.
His gaze shifted—and landed on the spear-wielding martial artist stationed near the desk.
The man was looking straight at him.
Not casually.
Not accidentally.
Rey met his gaze.
For a few seconds, they locked eyes.
Then the man looked away, as if Rey no longer mattered.
Rey shook his head lightly and turned toward the road.
Yet—
"He's still watching," Aiden's voice echoed inside him.
Rey didn't need to be told.
Even with his back turned, he could feel it.
That faint chill.
Like a dagger hovering inches from his spine.
He clenched the book in his hand and waited for a taxi, his eyes dropping to the title etched on the cover.
The choice he had made still echoed loudly in his spirits' minds.
"Have you finally gone insane?" Victor snapped. "Out of all three, you chose that?"
"I told you," Rey sighed. "I'll explain when we get home."
"No. Explain now," Victor pressed. "What if you lose?"
Before Rey could answer, a taxi pulled up.
He stepped inside and calmly gave the destination.
"Martial Market."
Today was the pickup day for his Katana.
The taxi drove off.
Just a few seconds later—
Another taxi stopped in front of the registration hall.
A young man stepped out, paid the fare, and stretched his arms toward the sky.
"Hah… what a nostalgic yet exhausting sight," he muttered. "Seeing this place again really hurts the eyes; it's just the same as in the past."
He walked toward the hall with a relaxed stride.
His name was Gravion.
A Regressor.
Once betrayed.
Once discarded.
Once dead.
Now returned to the past—armed with memories of the future.
His build was different from before. Sharper. More refined. The result of exploiting opportunities others wouldn't even notice for years.
"Let's get this registration over with," Gravion murmured. "And… that guy should be here too. He must be around here to enter."
His eyes scanned the crowd with intent.
"If I can meet him early, I can secure that bond properly this time."
Several applicants glanced his way.
Girls lingered longer.
His facial structure had improved significantly compared to his former self.
Thanks to the secret cultivation art, he had recovered from the remnants of the fallen Dragonstorm Duke family and had already stepped onto the path of cultivation—far earlier than he ever should have.
A faint glimmer flashed through his eyes.
Mana.
The same energy Rey wielded.
With a confident smirk, Gravion walked forward.
The future was no longer fixed.
...
While the Regressor stepped onto the stage of fate—
Rey sat in the taxi, lost in thought.
He was confident that his Shadowbranch Bow would carry him through the tournament, as the book he chose was neither Sword nor Spear, but a Bow. Still, he planned to buy a spare.
His current bow was wearing down.
With his rapidly increasing strength, there was a real risk that it would snap mid-battle.
And retreating wasn't an option.
He also considered purchasing a dagger for emergencies—something to use until his Stage Two weapon was completed.
A footwork technique was also on the list.
The bow was a long-range weapon.
Useless in close combat.
The book resting in his shadow was First Stretch of the Bow.
And he had chosen it deliberately.
'Victor, you wanted an explanation, right? Listen.'
His thoughts flowed calmly.
'My strength is growing too fast. With swords or spears, it would show immediately. My mastery wouldn't match the time I supposedly trained. And the Arsenal effect would make it worse.
But bows are different.
If I use my full strength, the bow will break. That gives me a natural excuse to restrain myself in public.
With swords or spears, people would notice instantly. I'd stand out too much.
And right now, attention is the last thing I can afford.'
Silence followed.
"…What are you thinking?" Rey added smugly. "Don't tell me you didn't see that coming."
"No," Victor replied slowly. "I'm just wondering how a brain that small managed to think this far."
"…Is Aiden behind this?"
Victor vanished mid-sentence.
Rey's eye twitched.
A few moments later, Victor reappeared, coughing awkwardly.
"Alright," he said. "I'll admit it. That was your idea."
He burst into laughter and slapped Rey's back.
"You're actually getting smarter staying around me."
Rey brushed him off and stared out the window.
The driver glanced at him nervously.
Talking to empty air.
Laughing.
Suddenly going silent.
Best not to ask questions.
In this era, sane people didn't mess with martial artists.
Crazy ones were even worse.
The taxi arrived at the Martial Market.
Rey paid without a word and stepped out.
The driver frowned.
The book Rey had been holding earlier was gone.
He searched the seat. The floor. Nothing.
Scratching his head in confusion, he drove away.
He never noticed Rey storing the book inside his shadow.
Too many eyes around.
Too many unseen spectators.
The Martial Market buzzed with activity.
Weapons were displayed like ordinary merchandise. Only a few stalls sold manuals or techniques.
Rey headed straight for a large shop specialising in Stage One weapons.
A staff member noticed him immediately and approached with a professional smile.
"Welcome, sir. How may I assist you? We carry weapons from Stage One up to limited Stage Two items."
"I'm looking for a Peak Stage One dagger," Rey said calmly. "A High or Peak Stage One bow, along with quality arrows."
He paused.
"And that should be all."
The man's eyes lit up.
"Excellent choice. Please take a seat. I'll gather them shortly."
He hurried off, already calculating his commission.
The shop was quiet.
Comfortable.
Rey leaned back slightly.
'Aiden,' he thought, 'I've been thinking about something for a while.'
"What is it now?" Aiden replied cautiously. "If it's another reckless experiment, don't. You can't afford chaos here."
'No. It's about my Sub-Ability—Nyxoth Merge.'
Aiden's attention sharpened instantly.
'I haven't used it since the underground incident. But I have an idea. Something that might help during the competition—specifically with my bow usage.'
Aiden paused.
"…Explain," he said slowly. "But don't try anything reckless. Oblivion-linked Darkness isn't something to toy with."
'Just hear me out,' Rey continued. 'You know I've devoured several beasts already, right?'
"Yes," Aiden replied. "So?"
Rey's eyes narrowed slightly.
'What if…
Among the beasts I devoured… There was one.'
Rey leaned back slightly in his seat, eyes unfocused as his thoughts flowed inward.
'The Gale Wind Bird.
That thing had an absurd vision. It dodged my attacks not by speed alone, but because it saw them coming before they fully formed.
His fingers tightened slowly.
If I can use that trait… even partially…
Then reacting, aiming, predicting—everything becomes easier.
Especially with a bow.'
He laid out the idea cleanly, without exaggeration, half-expecting another lecture or outright ridicule.
For a moment, Aiden said nothing.
Then—
"Hm," Aiden finally responded. "That's… not a bad idea."
Rey blinked.
'…Really?'
"Yes," Aiden continued thoughtfully. "Selective trait usage through Nyxoth Merge is theoretically possible. Difficult, unstable, but possible."
Rey's heartbeat picked up.
'Then… should I try it?'
Aiden snorted lightly. "Go ahead. It's not like my eyes are the ones at risk."
Then his tone shifted.
"Only a mad will and a reckless mind can push beyond their limits; hesitation renders it impossible. Give it a try."
Rey swallowed.
The words felt half-sarcastic, half-encouraging.
"Here goes nothing…"
He clenched his fist and activated Nyxoth Merge.
Instantly—
That familiar sensation returned.
As if his consciousness slipped sideways into an endless, dark expanse.
Beast visages floated in the distance, silent and waiting.
Not all of them.
Only the ones he had devoured.
His focus sharpened.
There.
The Gale Wind Bird.
Its form appeared like a suspended imprint, sharp-eyed and restless.
Rey attempted to activate it fully.
Nothing happened.
No transformation.
No response.
He frowned.
Too clumsy. Too greedy.
So he narrowed his intent.
Just the eyes.
The moment he focused—
Darkness swallowed his vision.
Completely.
"What—" His breath hitched.
For a split second, panic surged.
Had he gone blind?
Then—
His sight returned.
But it wasn't the same.
The world looked sharper. Clearer. Edges felt… closer. Movements seemed slightly delayed, as if reality itself was lagging behind his perception.
'Is this… working?'
Rey instinctively glanced toward Aiden—
Only to find him staring.
"…Look in a mirror," Aiden said slowly. "Then talk."
Rey did.
And froze.
His eyes were wrong.
Not monstrous.
Not glowing.
But… unstable.
Like layers overlapping. Dark film rippling faintly over his pupils, flickering as if reality couldn't decide how they should exist.
"They're… glitching," Aiden continued. "Likely due to low proficiency. But tell me—do you feel your vision improving?"
'Yes,' Rey answered instantly. 'I can perceive more. Even with the darkness, I can still see clearly.'
A pulse of excitement surged through him.
'I actually did it.
I used my ability properly.'
"Don't celebrate yet," Aiden cut in calmly. "Master it first. Then you can smile."
Despite the words, there was a faint, amused undertone beneath them.
'This kid's imagination really is ahead of his growth,' Aiden thought before fading back into the white space.
Rey was still testing the sensation when footsteps approached.
He dismissed the ability instantly.
Several shop assistants returned, carrying weapons and placing them neatly before him like a personal display.
"Sir," the attendant said respectfully, "these are the weapons I selected for you. Please take your time."
Rey nodded.
Before him lay three bows of different designs, five daggers arranged in pairs, and a well-crafted quiver of arrows.
"Explain the differences," Rey said calmly. "I'll choose after."
The man straightened, clearly prepared.
"Of course, sir. First—the daggers."
He gestured to two groups.
"These three are alloy steel blades, reinforced with minor beast materials. High Stage One grade."
Then to the other two.
"These are pure beast weapons, forged from bones and fangs of High Stage One beasts. Both are Peak Stage One."
Rey tested them carefully.
Balanced.
Sharp.
Responsive.
He chose one beast dagger and set the rest aside.
Then came the bows.
"All three are crafted from Stage One beast materials," the man explained. "One Longbow, two Recurves. Each can handle up to fifty kilograms of draw strength. These are standard even among Apprentice-level martial artists."
Rey tested them one by one.
When he picked up one recurve bow—
It felt right.
Balanced.
Stable.
Responsive.
A Peak Stage One bow.
"I'll take this one," Rey said.
The man smiled broadly.
"Excellent choice. Fully beast-crafted. Favoured by strength-based archers. In rare cases, it can even exceed its rated limit."
He slid the quiver forward.
"Sixty alloy steel arrows. Fine quality."
Rey inspected one.
Solid.
Reliable.
Far better than his old stock.
"I'll take all three," Rey said. "Give me the total."
The attendant bowed slightly and hurried off.
As Rey waited, he noticed people staring from across the shop.
He focused his hearing.
"…Do you think he's a noble?"
"Has to be. He just bought Peak Stage One weapons like it was nothing."
"I saw the bill earlier. Over fifty thousand Dracins."
"And look at him. That bearing isn't common."
Rey sighed internally.
'So that's why they've been treating me like this.'
He glanced around.
Every eye held the same assumption.
Noble.
Wealthy.
Untouchable.
Five minutes later, the staff returned with the bill.
53,210 Dracins.
Rey paid without comment, took his weapons, and left to retrieve his katana and search for a footwork manual.
The moment he left—
Several figures entered the shop.
Uniformed.
Armed.
Cold-eyed.
Customers fled instantly.
One man stepped forward and pointed at the attendant.
"You," he said flatly. "Come here."
The man swallowed hard.
"Y-Yes, sir…?"
"Tell me everything about the customer who was just here," the leader said. "What he bought. What he asked. What he did."
His voice dropped.
"Miss even one detail…"
"…and this shop disappears."
The attendant's mouth went dry.
"Y-Yes… I'll bring the register."
His hands trembled as he turned.
What kind of trouble did I get into today…
…