"Are all groups here?"
Primyte's voice was calm.
Too calm.
It carried across the training grounds without effort, slicing through the early morning air like a blade drawn halfway from its sheath.
Students instinctively straightened, eyes flicking sideways as they checked their formations.
Groups counted heads.
One.
Two.
Three.
No one wanted to be the one missing a member.
The sun had barely risen above Starcrest Academy, casting long shadows across the massive combat field carved into the academy's heart.
The stone beneath their feet was old—scarred with cracks, burns, and deep grooves left behind by generations of students who had stood where they stood now.
And failed.
The next morning had arrived without mercy.
Every student selected for evaluation stood present, dressed in combat gear, weapons secured, mana circulating beneath the skin like restrained fire.
This wasn't training.
This was judgment.
High above the grounds, near the academy's elevated balconies, Iris leaned against the stone railing, eyes narrowed as she watched the scene below.
"Do you think they'll survive this?" she asked lightly.
Cain stood beside her, arms crossed, gaze fixed on the solitary figure at the center of the field.
Primyte.
"He's not here to see who's strong," Cain replied after a moment. "He's here to see who's weak."
Iris tilted her head. "That's… comforting."
Cain didn't smile. "It shouldn't be."
Down below, Primyte stood alone.
Hands in his pockets.
No weapon drawn.
No visible mana output.
Just presence.
"What you're going to do for me is simple," Primyte continued, pacing slowly before the assembled groups. "Any team that manages to hit me—"
A pause.
"—wins."
A wave of stunned silence followed.
Then whispers exploded.
"Hit him?"
"Just one hit?"
"That's it?"
Rayden frowned sharply. Something about this felt wrong. Too easy. Too dismissive.
Before anyone could react further, Primyte stopped walking.
"Before that," he added calmly, "Group F—step forward."
Kayden felt it instantly.
The shift.
Rayden stiffened. "Why us?"
Primyte didn't look at him. "You're evicted."
"What?" Rayden snapped. "We haven't even done anything!"
His fists clenched. Heat flared behind his eyes.
I hate this guy, Rayden thought bitterly.
Primyte finally turned, his gaze indifferent. "You are my students. I already know your capabilities. Your strengths. Your limits."
He paused.
"You will not participate."
Silence crashed down.
Liora frowned, lips parting as if to protest—but she stopped herself. Her fingers curled tightly at her side.
This was her first real chance at the inter-academy stage.
And it was being taken away.
She exhaled slowly and nodded.
"Understood."
Group F stepped aside.
Kayden didn't move—but his thoughts churned.
He knew.
This wasn't punishment.
This was protection.
Primyte wasn't removing them because they were weak.
He was removing them because Kayden was dangerous.
Because Kayden was a system user.
And this field had too many eyes.
Seven groups remained.
Primyte turned back to them.
"Begin."
No countdown.
No signal.
Just permission.
The remaining seven groups moved.
Not all at once.
Not recklessly.
At first.
Boots scraped against ancient stone as students shifted their stances, mana stirring beneath their skin like coiled beasts waiting to be unleashed.
Weapons were drawn halfway. Breaths were measured. Eyes locked on the lone figure standing calmly at the center of the field.
Primyte.
Still hands in pockets.
Still relaxed.
The first to notice something was wrong was Marek.
He had taken exactly three steps forward when the ground… changed.
It wasn't dramatic. No explosion. No flash of light.
Just a wrongness.
Marek's earth-attuned senses screamed.
"—Wait," he muttered.
The stone beneath his boots no longer felt ancient.
No.
It felt empty.
He stomped once.
The vibration didn't travel.
It died instantly, like sound swallowed by thick fog.
Marek's eyes widened.
"Kira," he said sharply, not taking his eyes off the ground. "Do you feel that?"
Kira, perched lightly with her Wind Hawk circling overhead, frowned. "Feel what—?"
She stopped.
The wind stalled.
Her hawk let out a sharp cry, wings faltering mid-air as if the sky itself had grown heavy.
Tomas turned slowly, scanning the horizon.
"…Where are the walls?"
That was when everyone noticed.
The academy was gone.
The towering spires of Starcrest Academy—vanished.
The elevated balconies—gone.
The sky above had darkened, not with clouds, but with depth, like a vast dome stretching infinitely in all directions.
The combat field remained.
But it floated.
Suspended in nothingness.
Panic rippled through the groups.
"Where—where are we?!" someone shouted.
"This isn't the academy!"
"I can't feel the boundary seals!"
Primyte chuckled.
It wasn't loud.
It wasn't mocking.
But it was enough to freeze the noise in everyone's throat.
"You're all under my domain now," he said calmly.
He turned slowly, eyes sweeping over the students like a predator assessing prey.
"This is my dimension."
A heavy pressure descended instantly.
Not crushing.
Not violent.
Just… absolute.
"Here," Primyte continued, "I test what you actually have."
The air thickened.
Mana circulation stuttered.
Hearts raced.
"To see whether you can resist."
Fear finally set in.
Not the fear of losing.
The fear of being trapped.
"I—I quit!" someone from Group A shouted suddenly, voice cracking. "This is insane!"
Another followed.
"Me too! I'm done!"
One by one, courage shattered.
Group A dropped their weapons.
Group B followed, faces pale.
Even Group H—Zane, Noah, and Theo—hesitated, exchanged looks, then slowly raised their hands.
"We quit," Zane said bitterly. "This isn't worth it."
Primyte nodded once.
"Accepted."
With a flick of his wrist—
They vanished.
No flash.
No sound.
Just… gone.
Returned to the academy.
The remaining students stared in horror.
Group C swallowed hard.
Group D tightened their formation.
Group E gritted their teeth.
Group G trembled—but stayed.
Primyte's gaze returned to them.
"Proceed."
They moved.
Group C attacked first.
Illusions bloomed as Nora split into three forms, Owen projecting mental pressure while Drake charged head-on, muscles reinforced.
Primyte stepped aside.
Drake missed.
The illusions shattered.
Owen gasped, clutching his head.
They collapsed.
Group E followed—Ava's ice surged forward, Leo's flames roaring alongside it, Mina charging through the steam with reinforced fists.
Primyte walked through it.
The ice froze nothing.
The fire burned air.
Mina swung—
And froze mid-motion.
Exhaustion slammed into her like a wall.
Group G screamed as their bodies began to shake under the pressure.
Group D held longest.
Marek planted his feet, earth mana surging desperately.
Kira's hawk dove, wind screaming.
Tomas charged with a roar.
Primyte didn't strike back.
He didn't need to.
Their mana thinned.
Breaths turned ragged.
Strength bled away.
Then—
The world snapped.
They were back.
Stone beneath their feet.
Sky above.
Starcrest Academy restored.
Students collapsed to their knees, gasping.
"You pass," Primyte said calmly.
"But—we didn't hit you," Marek protested weakly.
Primyte looked at him.
"You stayed."
Silence.
"That is enough."
Groans erupted—from those who quit.
Disbelief.
Anger.
Primyte continued, voice cutting through it all.
"Only three groups will represent Starcrest."
His gaze shifted.
"Group C."
Nora stiffened.
"You are evicted."
Her mouth opened—but no words came.
"You had courage," Primyte said evenly. "But your attacks lacked awareness."
Final.
The chosen were clear.
Group D.
Group E.
Group G.
Kayden watched from the side.
His chest felt heavy.
Not relief.
Not fear.
Something else.
Because Primyte hadn't looked at him once.
Not during the test.
Not after.
As if—
Kayden had already been judged.
Primyte turned away.
And deep within Kayden—
The silence stirred.
Not speaking.
Not activating.
Just… watching.
And for the first time, Kayden realized—
Being evicted before the spotlight
might have saved his life.
But it also meant—
Whatever was coming next
wasn't meant for a stage.