Only three students had reached the final checkpoint—and all three collapsed as soon as they did. Unconscious. Paralyzed.

Arthur narrowed his eyes, trying to make sense of it. There were no visible injuries and no sign of a physical attack. His thoughts turned to one possibility.

Darkness.

His brother wielded that element. Could it have been a mental assault? Some illusion or curse that struck their minds instead of their bodies?

The instructor and council officers quickly rushed in, helping the fallen students back to their places. A healer arrived to revive them. After all, there were still at least two more rounds to go.

The crowd of students buzzed with unease. Whispers filled the air as they debated what had happened—and more importantly, how to guard against it.

Arthur, however, didn't join in. He looked toward Kevin.

And Kevin…was already looking at him.

He never told me about this.

But Arthur couldn't blame him. Kevin was just doing his job, keeping his powers under wraps until the time was right. Arthur was the one chasing thrills.

The instructor marked down the previous group's scores and then raised her voice.

"Next ten, step forward!"

Arthur was the first to move.

He walked toward the anklets and bracelets left behind by the others and began strapping them on. As he did, he looked at the instructor and asked, "Can I inspect the heat?"

Luci gave him a short nod. "Go ahead."

With that, not just Arthur but the others, too, crouched down, pressing their hands against the sand.

"Sss… It's boiling!"

"Ugh! That's way too hot! I need ice sandals!"

The students flinched back, gasping, but Arthur stayed still. His hand remained pressed on the burning sand, eyes thoughtful.

A few seconds passed.

Then he nodded.

He had made up his mind. He knew what needed to be done.

....

[Eric's POV:]

I stood by the guardrail, eyes fixed on the one student I had come to see.

Even though I was still feeling rough from my own match, I wanted to watch Arthur perform.

I needed to know—was it just me struggling, or had he actually been working hard all this time?

I wanted to see what my rival could do.

I still don't know how many points I scored, but since I didn't get a chance to fight the instructor, it's clear I didn't make it past six hundred and fifty.

I regret not making it to the fourth round. But instead of sitting around feeling sorry for myself, I'm going to get better.

I know where I went wrong—where I hesitated, where I held back. I can fix that.

But right now, all my focus is on this round.

"Water element is perfect for this stage," my older sister said with a smile, standing beside me.

She's right. But I shook my head slightly. "If he uses water to move across the sand, it'll slow him down. And I don't think he'll risk that."

She looked puzzled. "Then what's he going to do? He can't just run across barefoot… right?"

I grinned. "I'm excited to find out too."

The instructor picked the whistle.

I rested my hands on the guardrail.

And then—

*PHEWWWWW*

Everyone jumped on the sandfield, with their face lit up with their blessing marks.

Except for one.

I knew it!

"What the..." Sister nearly cursed. Bad sister.

"Why isn't he using any spell?!" Someone from behind shouted as he also noticed that the fastest-moving candidate was not using magic at all.

He was simply unmatchable. He was moving through the field as if he was walking in a park.

There were traces of sweat, and the frown on his face clearly told me that it wasn't painless and he wasn't using any spell at all.

He was, "Enduring the heat...how amazing." My sister said the exact same words I was thinking.

Amazing.

My rival has grown stronger, I can clearly see.

....

[Third Person POV:]

Arthur was relying on military conditioning and body strengthening techniques to withstand the heat.

He knew this generation had gone soft. Their over-the-top reactions were honestly laughable.

"Ooh—ah, they're all squealing," he thought with a smirk as he reached the first checkpoint.

A sand golem emerged from the ground.

Arthur swiftly ducked under its strike and drove his palm into its midsection. Behind the golem, several sharp water spikes shot up—just before the creature crumbled apart, dissolving back into the field.

He didn't need anything flashy. His aim wasn't to impress—just to eliminate. And he did.

He advanced to the third stage… only to start sinking into the sand.

Without hesitation, Arthur threw himself down, spreading his body flat across the surface to distribute his weight. The sinking slowed.

Why?

Because the only spell that could help here needed the aid of Terra Spirits. And he couldn't summon them in this field.

So, he returned to the basics.

If you can't walk through fire—crawl through it.

Gasps broke out among the spectators at his unorthodox move. Even Grace's expression tightened into a worried frown.

"Isn't he burning?!"

"Guh… That must hurt like hell…"

"Once his adrenaline fades, he'll be crying like a little kid!"

The students were mocking or gasping.

But Arthur wasn't thinking about that. He had one goal.

And the pain wasn't enough to stop him.

He crawled through the third obstacle as fast as he could.

Pausing for a breath, he glanced back—only five others had made it past the second stage.

Turning his eyes forward, Arthur froze.

Across the field stood his brother.

Arthur narrowed his gaze and stepped forward, warily.

Kevin raised a hand. There was something in his eyes—something beyond his usual calm detachment.

Regret.

And then—it struck.

Arthur dropped to his knees, his expression going blank.

He was no longer seeing the sand field.

He was looking at a memory. A nightmare from the past.

Tomatoes. Eggs. Broken glass. Stones. Anything people could throw—they did.

He lay there, soaked by cold rain, staring up with empty eyes. His body had stopped registering pain.

"Die, you maggot!"

"You don't deserve to live! You took our families from us!"

"Die slow, you coward! Even hell won't accept filth like you!"

"You weren't born—a curse crawled from the dirt and learned to walk!"

"Even your parents knew what you were. That's why they abandoned a creature like you!"

Curses rained down harder than the storm. The same mouths that once praised him… now screamed for his death.

This is the fate I chose, Arthur thought, a faint smile appearing on his lips.

He knew it was an illusion. But that didn't stop the sting in his chest… or the moisture in his eyes.

His vision shifted.

Now he saw Grace.

She stood above him, her face cold and unreadable.

She didn't yell. She didn't slap him. She didn't even flinch.

She just looked at him.

And that silence cut deeper than any words ever could.

Arthur couldn't reach out. He didn't have the strength. Or the right.

He had hurt her more than anyone.

He had betrayed her trust—the trust of the only woman who ever saw him as more than a killer… more than a weapon.

Tears welled in Arthur's eyes. His body trembled, shaken by the weight of what he'd just relived.

Suddenly, he was back in the present—standing in the sand field, facing his brother once more. His eyes were wide, lips slightly parted in shock.

But he didn't stay down for long.

Arthur rose to his feet. Without wiping the tears from his cheeks, without sparing another glance at Kevin, he turned and moved forward—crossing the field in silence.

He didn't speak. Didn't react.

He simply walked away.

Then his eyes met Grace's.

She stood frozen—shocked, maybe even horrified.

Arthur still hadn't removed the heavy anklets and bracelets weighing him down, now over a hundred kilograms. But he advanced toward her anyway, step by heavy step.

Gasps rose from the students watching. The instructor raised an eyebrow in surprise but said nothing.

Arthur didn't care.

Not about the test.

Not about the eyes on him.

All that mattered… was her.

He stopped right in front of Grace.

"You have her memories, right?" His voice was hoarse. "Then… tell me you hate me."

Grace blinked, caught off guard—then understanding dawned in her eyes.

She gently shook her head.

"I've felt many things for you," she said softly, "but hatred was never one of them."

"You're lying…" Arthur whispered, his voice breaking. "I was so unfair... so cruel…"

His head dropped onto her shoulder.

Grace wrapped her arms around him, holding him close.

And in the gentlest voice, she whispered, "I can never hate you, Carl… because I know what you did was for everyone's sake."

Arthur flinched at the name.

But he no longer had the strength to speak. Or ask questions.

In her arms… he lost consciousness.

°°°°°°°

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