The classroom fell silent—much quieter this time.
The rule had been there all along.
No one had just expected that the person to claim the spot would be Ethan—a B-rank talent Priest.
Ethan frowned slightly.
Direct admission might be convenient, but it had completely derailed his plans.
He stood up, his voice calm and steady.
"Mr. Arnold, I decline the direct admission spot."
"What?!"
The classroom, which had just quieted down, erupted into chaos once more!
Everyone stared at Ethan like he'd lost his mind.
"Did he just say he's declining it?!"
"Does he even know what the seven-school training camp means?! The resources! The opportunities! It's a once-in-a-lifetime chance!"
"He's gone mad! Absolutely mad!"
Kane's head shot up.
His first reaction was disbelief, followed by a surge of humiliated anger.
Something he'd coveted so badly—something he'd been willing to cheat for—Ethan was throwing away like it was nothing.
Was this some kind of sick joke? A deliberate slap in the face?
Lilian froze for a second, then a look of unbridled scorn and satisfaction spread across her face.
"Hmph. Finally got some self-awareness! You know you're not worthy!"
Ella also stared at Ethan in shock, confusion written all over her face.
Ethan had shown incredible speed and healing power in the dungeon, but Priests had no offensive skills—that was a fatal weakness in arena battles.
Even if his stats were far higher than his opponents', a single powerful skill could easily turn the tide.
A top-tier skill could deal 5 to 10 times a player's base attack damage.
Could Ethan's stats really be 10 times higher than everyone else's?
Impossible.
Mr. Arnold frowned, looking at Ethan seriously.
"Ethan, do you understand what you're saying? This is not a game."
"I understand perfectly, Mr. Arnold," Ethan replied, his tone still calm.
"I believe my strength is more than enough to earn a spot through the selection tournament. Since there's a chance to compete fairly, I don't want to accept special treatment. Let someone who needs it more have this spot."
"A Priest talking about strength? What a joke!"
"Does he think they'll convert his healing output into damage during the fights?"
"Trying to play the noble hero, huh? Probably knows he can't live up to the direct admission and is trying to gain sympathy instead!"
"Rejecting a gift from heaven—he'll regret this. Mark my words."
Mr. Arnold rapped his knuckles on the podium, silencing the crowd again.
"If you're certain, declining the direct admission is your right."
"In that case, as you wish. The direct admission spot will automatically go to the second-highest contributor to the dungeon-clearing team, as per the rules."
His gaze shifted to the Jones sisters.
"Ella, according to the records, you dealt the highest damage. The direct admission spot is yours now."
"Huh?"
Ella froze, caught off guard, and waved her hands frantically.
"I don't want it! I want to fight for my spot too!"
Are you kidding me?
If Ethan was turning it down, there's no way she'd accept it!
Besides, she was dying for some real combat practice!
More importantly, she refused to owe anyone a favor for something this ridiculous—especially not one she'd gotten secondhand from Ethan.
Mr. Arnold's face darkened, embarrassed by being turned down twice in a row.
"This isn't a market haggling session! Rules are rules! Ethan declined, so the spot falls to you by default. Take it! This is the school's decision, not a game!"
Ella opened her mouth to argue, but Amy gently tugged her sleeve and shook her head, silencing her with a look.
Amy gave a subtle shake of her head, signaling her not to stir up more trouble.
Ella stamped her foot angrily, but finally fell silent—though she shot Ethan a fierce glare. This was all his fault!
If she'd known this would happen, she never would've stuck up for him!
Mr. Arnold let out a sigh of relief, glad he'd finally gotten rid of the direct admission spot.
If word got out that two students from No.3 High had turned down the direct admission spot one after another, it would be a laughingstock among the other schools!
He turned back to Ethan, his tone serious.
"Ethan, if you're sure about declining the direct spot and choosing to compete, that's your right."
"But understand this—there are no lucky breaks in the arena. Strength is the only thing that matters. I hope you won't regret this decision later."
"I'll never regret it."
Ethan smiled faintly, his voice full of unshakable conviction.
His goal was finally within reach.
Mr. Arnold studied Ethan for a long moment, then nodded.
"Very well. It's settled. All participating students, gather at the training ground promptly at 1 PM this afternoon. Opponents will be decided by random draw."
The dismissal bell rang right on cue, and the classroom erupted into chaos.
Everyone's gaze on Ethan was a mix of confusion, mockery, and a hint of curiosity.
"Pride comes before a fall. Someone's gonna make a fool of himself this afternoon." Kane sneered, deliberately raising his voice as he walked past Ethan's desk.
Lilian followed closely behind, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
"A Priest dares to step onto the arena? You won't even last one hit against me."
Ethan leaned back in his chair, tuning out the surrounding chatter completely.
"Why did you turn it down?"
Ella marched over to his desk, her tone a mix of confusion and annoyance.
"Now I can't even compete!"
Ethan looked up at the pouting girl in front of him, her irritation plain as day—like a squirrel whose pinecone had been stolen.
He smiled faintly, his voice tinged with a hint of playful amusement.
"What? I just handed you a free spot in the training camp.
Shouldn't you be thanking me?"
"Thank you?!"
Ella yelped, her hackles rising like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.
"I want to fight! Fight, you hear me? Who cares about your stupid direct spot! Now I'm stuck with this stupid free pass and can't even fight—this is all your fault!"
"Oh?"
Ethan said slowly, feigning innocence.
"The rule was set by the school. It fell to you automatically, not like I forced it on you. If you're gonna blame someone, blame Mr. Arnold or whoever made the rule. Why blame me?"
"You—!"
Ella was left speechless by his casual attitude.
It was all his fault for starting this mess!
She stamped her foot angrily.
"You're just splitting hairs! It's your fault, period!"
Amy gently pulled her sister back, giving Ethan an apologetic smile.
"I'm sorry. Ella just really wanted to compete in the tournament to train herself. She didn't mean any harm."
Amy was perceptive—she suspected there was more to Ethan's decision than met the eye.
The speed he'd shown in the dungeon was anything but that of an ordinary Priest.
Ethan nodded at Amy, saying nothing more.
He stood up, ready to leave.
"Hey!"
Ella called out to him, unwilling to let him go so easily.
"Be careful this afternoon—Kane and Lilian are definitely gonna target you."
Even though she was mad, she could tell right from wrong.
Ethan had helped them in the dungeon, after all, and those two's arrogant attitude made her blood boil.
Ethan paused, glancing back at her, the corners of his mouth curving into a faint smile.
"Thanks for the warning. Though who's targeting whom… that's still up in the air."
His voice was calm, yet filled with an indescribable confidence that left Ella rooted to the spot.
By the time she snapped out of it, Ethan was already gone.
"Hmph! Acting all cool! Let's see how cocky you are when you're lying flat on your back this afternoon!"
Ella shook her fist at his retreating figure, but the anger in her heart had inexplicably faded by half.
Instead, she found herself feeling a strange sense of anticipation for the tournament.
Ethan had just stepped out of the classroom when he noticed Mr. Arnold walking back toward him, gesturing for him to come over.
"Ethan, a word."
Ethan followed Mr. Arnold to a quiet corner of the hallway.
Mr. Arnold adjusted his glasses, looking at him earnestly.
"Ethan, there's no one else here. Be honest with me—did you really turn down the direct spot just for this so-called 'fair competition'? Or is there something else going on? You must know how big of a disadvantage a Priest is at in one-on-one arena fights."
Ethan fell silent for a moment.
He couldn't exactly tell him the real reason, so he'd have to bluff his way through it.
Ethan looked up, his eyes calm yet brimming with a confidence that even surprised Mr. Arnold.
"Mr. Arnold, I understand your concern. But please believe me—I chose to compete because I have to, and I'm confident I can win."
"Confident you can win?"
Mr. Arnold frowned deeply.
"Your class is Priest. Even if you're a prodigy with exceptional stats, lacking offensive skills is a fatal flaw. Do you really expect your opponents to stand there and let you heal them to death?"
It was a terrible joke, but he meant it.
A faint smile tugged at the corners of Ethan's mouth.
"Sir, who said Priests can't have offensive abilities? You'll see this afternoon."
Mr. Arnold watched Ethan's retreating figure, his confusion not diminishing in the slightest—if anything, it only grew deeper.
Ever since he'd returned from the dungeon, this student seemed like a completely different person.
That composure and confidence—they were nothing like what you'd expect from a student who'd just changed classes, tricked into taking a support role no less.
Mr. Arnold found himself wondering—when Ethan had traded his Knight Medal for Lilian's Priest Medal… had he really been tricked? Or had he done it on purpose?
"I hope you know what you're doing," Mr. Arnold muttered under his breath.
At 1 PM that afternoon, the school training ground was packed.
All the senior students of No.3 High—thirteen classes, nearly six hundred students—filled the area, the atmosphere buzzing with excitement.
Thirteen arenas had been set up in the center of the field, surrounded by protective barriers.
On the podium, the principal and several school leaders sat upright, flanked by observation delegates from the Municipal Education Bureau and the Professional Association.
The participating students gathered in the waiting area beside the arenas, the air thick with tension and anticipation.
Ethan's arrival caused a small commotion.
Dressed in his plain school uniform, he stood out like a sore thumb among the crowd of students clad in light armor, wielding weapons, and exuding a fierce fighting aura.
"He actually had the guts to show up?"
"Tch. Bravery's admirable, but he's clearly got a few screws loose."
"Can't wait to watch Kane or Lilian crush him."
Kane stood with his arms crossed, clad in silver knightly armor manifested by his Conceptual Armament.
He shot Ethan a cold glance, scoffing disdainfully.
Lilian twirled her golden holy sword, a sneer playing on her lips.
She could barely contain her excitement at the thought of watching Ethan make a fool of himself on stage.
Even though she'd gotten the direct spot, Ella had still come to the waiting area to watch the matches.
When she saw Ethan, she opened her mouth to wave—but then remembered he was the reason she was stuck sitting on the sidelines.
She turned her head away, huffing angrily.
Amy, on the other hand, gave Ethan a small nod of acknowledgment.
Mr. Arnold, as homeroom teacher, was giving his students a final pep talk.
"I assume you all know the rules by now? Everyone starts with 2 points. Winners take half of their opponent's points—minimum 1 point. If your points drop to zero, you're eliminated. The top five students with the highest points will earn spots in the training camp."
"No deliberate maiming or use of one-time items is allowed. Surrender, being knocked down for ten seconds, or leaving the arena results in an immediate loss."
"Remember—this isn't just about fighting for spots. It's also about showing the strength of No.3 High!"