In a secret chamber inside the arena, Painita was carefully watching Darian on the martial stage.

"That brat actually stayed in that place for five days. But I don't feel any difference in his physique… You also said you sensed something strange coming from him earlier, right?" she asked, turning to Emperor Morion.

"Yes, Matriarch. I tried to assess him when he first arrived at the castle, to see if he was worth the effort… but he noticed it and used something weird that affected my soul. He probably has a blessing that can hide his strength. Must be the Puppet Master's Blessing."

Morion spoke seriously, and everyone in the room nodded. That blessing was well-known for catching even stronger people off guard if their spiritual defenses were weak. It could also be used on the user's own body, allowing them to perfectly control all internal energies and fluctuations.

"But… back on Earth, he was known as a healer. And in those videos of his fights, from that tournament ten years ago… everything about him looked off," one Elder murmured, thoughtful. Everyone there had already watched and analyzed everything that existed about Darian on Earth.

Painita nodded but didn't seem worried — on the contrary, she looked almost excited. She had seen Niara fighting beside Darian during that tournament, and her daughter's power back then was already incredible.

It was possible that the two of them shared some kind of unique combination of power that strengthened each other. If Darian really proved himself worthy — and did everything properly — Painita wouldn't mind supporting him.

But to be considered worthy in her eyes, Darian would have to prove his value completely.

"Did he receive it?" Painita asked coldly.

"Yes… Matriarch, this is a bit dirty. If he finds out, it'll be a stain on our honor," one of the Elders warned in a stern tone.

"How the hell would that brat find out? Is anyone here planning to open their damn mouth?!" Painita barked sharply.

"There's no way he'll last more than ten exchanges. And with the Yang Poison Pill being triggered by young Gilth's blessing, after he gets beaten down, his body will go through a long and painful improvement. If he wants to marry my daughter, he'd better learn to deal with defeat and humiliation. Besides, through painful setbacks and prolonged suffering, his gains will be massive because of the poison. I'm helping him, damn it! Don't bring that up again!"

Everyone fell completely silent.

On the martial stage, Darian was facing his opponent — a man radiating an extremely dense draconic aura. He stood about two and a half meters tall and looked like an impenetrable wall.

'That fucking bitter old bitch… she sent someone from the royal family? And with six rings, too?' Darian thought, slightly annoyed.

This was supposed to be a normal fight against another commoner who also wanted to become a royal soldier. There was no minimum requirement or restriction, but according to the Elder, usually only people with up to five rings took this test.

The opponent should've been chosen randomly among the commoners — that way, no one could be blamed. But it was obvious this was staged.

"Hahaha! Brat, you better give up. There's no honor in crushing an ant!"

The man's mocking voice echoed through the arena.

Darian just snorted, not bothering to reply.

In the sky above, a powerful voice roared: "Battle for the title of Soldier number 4,057 will now begin! There can only be one winner. Begin!"

Painita focused on Darian. With only four rings, he'd have to unleash 100% of his power — or he'd be crushed in one exchange. It was the perfect chance for her to gauge his true strength.

A dense indigo aura burst from the giant man's body as he laughed loudly, not activating his blessing just yet.

Then, as he looked at Darian…

"!"

Their eyes met. The man saw a grayish light swirling hypnotically inside Darian's eyes.

Instantly, his body froze.

Then it felt like his soul was ripped out and thrown into another world. Everything around him turned dark and cold. Before his eyes, the worst nightmares of his existence took shape, awakening the most primal fear inside him.

"AHHHH!" the man screamed in absolute terror.

All the spectators were stunned, unable to understand what was happening.

"Pathetic."

Darian spat to the side and took a step forward. In his eyes, the chaotic power vanished — replaced by a faint seven-colored glow.

**BANG!**

He slammed a punch straight into his opponent's chest. A deafening boom echoed like thunder.

The man was blasted into the air, flying in a straight line like a missile.

*BOOM!*

A moment later, an explosion thundered through a spot where there had been nothing in the arena before.

The impact shattered space like a mirror, revealing a hidden chamber.

The man's body fell soon after. The referee darted toward him in shock, and upon checking, confirmed — he was alive, just with a few broken bones.

Inside the observation booth, everyone stared fixedly at the martial stage. At the center of it all, a pair of red eyes stared back at them — cold and expressionless.

No one said a word. After thirty seconds, Darian snorted and turned away, indifferent, as if he no longer cared.

That man was a member of the royal family and, indeed, had a dense and powerful bloodline. But all he had was brute strength. His soul and mind were ridiculously weak.

That was a common problem among beasts. They spent their lives fighting and training their bodies, but neglected internal cultivation. Some incredibly powerful beasts had questionable intelligence; others had souls and minds weaker than those of ordinary humans back on Earth.

Normally, aside from the lack of intelligence, that wasn't a big deal. There were very few people with blessings capable of affecting the mind and soul, and artifacts of that kind were rare too. Besides, there were plenty of defensive methods to mitigate that weakness if needed.

But in front of the current Darian, that man was less than an ant. Even if he had nine rings, he'd still be beaten down effortlessly.

The referee, trembling a little, announced the winner. Darian then turned and left the stage.

In the secret room, everyone stayed silent, unsure of what to think or feel... just watching that figure disappear.

"Hahaha, Mr. Darian, you're my sparring partner and Instructor now!" Zelkov exclaimed excitedly.

He had thought Darian would throw the fight, but after seeing his opponent, he was sure Darian would lose. Now, after such an overwhelming victory, he was overjoyed to have made the right choice. With someone like Darian backing him, his own position could rise.

Until...

"You're celebrating a little too early."

A cold voice echoed as Princess Tetoya appeared, approaching from the back.

"What are you doing here?!" Zelkov asked, tense. Seeing her satisfied smile, he got a bad feeling.

"Darian isn't your Instructor. He's mine," she said flatly.

"You want to fight me for him?! Hmph, useless. I already signed the contract. You're too late," Zelkov snorted, waving the document in front of her face.

She just smiled and puffed out her chest. "Why don't you look at that document again? Whose name is written there?"

Zelkov froze and quickly looked at the contract. Darian did the same.

"What?!"

Shockingly, the name on the document was Tetoya's — not Zelkov's.

"What did you do?" Darian asked, confused, looking at Zelkov. How could he make such a ridiculous mistake?

"I…" The naïve boy was too stunned to respond. He refused to believe it was the same paper, but Tetoya's name and Darian's signature were clearly written there.

"Now you're my sparring partner and Instructor. Good job in your match. I'm satisfied, and I won't treat you badly," Tetoya said, walking up to Darian and looking him straight in the eyes.

Darian turned toward an Elder standing in the corner. Instantly, the Elder looked away. That single gesture was all Darian needed to understand everything.

The man had been bribed to swap Zelkov's original document before Darian arrived at the arena. Since Zelkov was already there at the time, Darian assumed everything was set and signed it without bothering to read.

He was speechless. After going through so much trouble and surviving everything, being tricked by a half-beast and selling himself off by carelessness was almost comical. To make it worse, each contract lasted for three years.

Darian took the document and looked at it closely. It was a clear contract between two people. Tetoya's name was exactly where it should be — she hadn't even bothered to hide it. He could only blame himself for not paying attention.

"Of course, you could tear up the contract, but that would mean your word means nothing. I trust you wouldn't do something like that, right?" Tetoya said with a faint smile.

Darian looked at her and smiled back — but his smile was dry and malicious. "Alright."

Tetoya felt a chill down her spine; her eyes trembled.

"Mr. Darian, I'm so sorry!" Zelkov said, ashamed, realizing he'd been caught in someone else's scheme.

"It's fine. It's my fault too. Since things turned out this way, there's nothing to complain about," Darian replied calmly.

Tetoya took a deep breath, regaining her composure, and tossed something to Darian — a status plate. He was no longer a commoner, nor a soldier; he had been directly promoted to Instructor. The next rank would be General, then Supreme General.

"Starting today, you're one of mine. My princess mansion is your home. Go to the royal castle and claim your money reward for the victory. After that, come see me."

Saying that, Tetoya left.

Darian snorted. He knew she didn't really want him as an Instructor. What Tetoya wanted was to slowly put him under her control. She was the very definition of arrogance and boldness — even setting up schemes to get what she wanted.

Perfect. If she wanted to play with fire and draw attention, she'd done it. Darian just hoped she wouldn't regret it too soon.

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