Kainos turned to face the entire class.
"And anyone who believes survival is beneath strength…"
He paused.
"…will not live long."
Silence fell again.
But this time, it was different.
Deeper.
He looked at Rolin once more.
"Sit."
Rolin finally exhaled. He returned to his seat, legs trembling slightly.
Inside him, Likath stretched lazily.
'You ridiculous sack of meat. You win precisely because you're afraid.'
"…I'm not afraid."
'Better than a lie,' Likath replied smoothly. 'Call it a half-truth.'
Kainos stepped back to the center of the hall and clapped once.
A sharp, cutting sound.
"Enough introductions."
A cruel smile touched his lips.
"Now… we begin training."
Unease stirred among the students. Some swallowed nervously. Others clenched their fists in excitement.
Rolin felt only one thing.
This class?
It would not spare him.
Likath chuckled low and dangerous.
'Finally… the real fun begins.'
Kainos lifted a thick registry book and flipped through its pages slowly—deliberately—each second stretching the tension tighter.
Then he spoke clearly.
"Selen. Kyle. Aileen."
A brief pause.
"Step forward."
The three moved immediately.
Kyle walked with steady confidence, back straight, like someone used to hearing his name called first.
Selen advanced with lethal calm—no rush, no hesitation, her face expressionless.
Aileen, with long light-brown hair flowing down her back and warm amber eyes, moved lightly—graceful, though slightly clumsy in a way that felt strangely natural.
They stood in a line before Kainos.
He closed the registry and crossed his arms.
"You three… hold the highest preliminary evaluations in this class."
Whispers rippled through the hall—envy, admiration, wary anticipation.
"That does not mean you are the strongest."
He looked at Kyle.
"Nor the fastest."
Then Selen.
"Nor the smartest."
Then Aileen.
"It only means… you have the greatest chance to disappoint me publicly."
Aileen forced a tense smile. Kyle's jaw tightened. Selen did not change at all.
Kainos suddenly turned toward the rest of the class.
"You…"
He paused.
"…will play the role of opponents."
Eyes widened. Some students smiled dangerously.
Rolin felt a chill crawl down his spine.
'Classic division,' Likath whispered gleefully. 'Elite versus herd.'
"Simple rules," Kainos continued.
"One—no killing."
"Two—no weapons."
"Three—surrender is a wise choice for those who know their limits."
He lowered his hand.
"You have ten minutes."
Then to the three:
"Show me… why your names were written first."
He stepped back.
The hall suddenly felt wider.
And far more dangerous.
The students moved.
No—
They exploded.
Nearly forty students surged forward at once—shouting, stomping, fueled by adrenaline and long-suppressed frustration.
And at the back—
Rolin stood still.
Watching.
Not running.
Not shouting.
Not "getting excited."
Some students glanced at him as they rushed ahead.
Their looks said everything.
Look at him.
He didn't even move.
Arrogant.
He thinks he's above us.
Resentment grew.
Inside Rolin's head, however—
There was a crisis meeting in session.
Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.
Does this professor think they're idiots?!
Three?!
Three against all of this?!
These aren't students. They're future lunatics!
Likath stretched inside him like a cat settling in.
'Ah… look at them. Excitement. Adrenaline. Blind confidence.'
'I love moments before disaster.'
"Shut up," Rolin muttered.
'I'm thinking too,' Likath replied cheerfully. 'Thinking about who falls first.'
At the front—
Kyle moved.
Not rushing.
One step forward.
He planted his feet.
The first student reached him and swung—
BAM.
One clean punch.
The boy flew backward like a sack of grain that had offended physics itself.
Gasps erupted.
Selen didn't wait.
She slipped between two attackers as if she had no weight at all—fist, elbow, pivot—
Three down before they understood what happened.
Her face remained cold.
No anger.
Just execution.
Aileen?
She leapt over someone's shoulder, spun midair, kicked another in the jaw, and landed lightly—almost dancing.
Chaos began.
Forty stopped being one wave.
They fractured.
Confusion spread.
In the back—
Rolin took one step backward.
Then another.
No. No. No.
This is not my fight.
I'm just a peaceful student who studies combat… theoretically.
Two students turned toward him.
"Not joining?" one sneered.
"Or waiting your turn, hero?" the other grinned.
Sweat instantly formed.
Likath…
No.
Don't speak.
Don't come out.
A low chuckle slipped from his chest anyway.
'Too late.'
Likath's voice rang out—clear, shameless, excited:
"Oh, don't worry. I won't waste my strength on weaklings."
The two froze.
Rolin shouted quickly:
"Don't fight here! The floor is slippery!"
"What?"
They collided.
Fell.
Groaned.
Rolin raised his hands.
"I swear—I didn't touch them!"
From a distance—
Kainos watched.
One eyebrow lifted.
"…Interesting."
***
Minutes later—
It was over.
The floor was covered in bodies.
Groans. Bruises. Regret.
All forty had fallen.
Only three stood.
Selen. Kyle. Aileen.
And then—
All three turned.
Toward the only one who had done nothing.
Rolin.
He froze.
…Why are they looking at me?
A hoarse voice from the floor shouted:
"Lord Rolin!"
He twitched violently.
Don't call me that!
"Take revenge for us!"
Silence.
Then—
"Yes!"
"Show us your power!"
"You killed a corrupted beast alone!"
"They're nothing to you!"
The chanting grew.
"Rolin! Rolin! Rolin!"
His eyes widened.
Where did this script come from?!
Kyle raised a brow, half curious, half challenging.
"Huh. They seem to like you."
Selen crossed her arms.
"Then…"
Aileen tilted her head.
"I'm tired."
Rolin felt his legs weaken.
Likath… say something smart. Or open a hole and bury me.
'Oh no,' Likath purred. 'This is your moment.'
Then—
A voice left Rolin's mouth.
But it wasn't his.
Deeper.
Colder.
"Three…?"
The word echoed.
"That's too few."
A pause.
"Perhaps bring a hundred… if you want to scratch me."
The hall froze.
Even the air seemed to stop.
Kyle tightened his fist.
"…Impressive."
Aileen swallowed.
"That's… kind of scary."
Selen's eyes narrowed.
For the first time—
There was genuine interest in her gaze.
Inside, Rolin screamed.
Likath!
'I told you. Let me handle it.'
I said no!
'Too late.'
He stepped forward.
Too straight.
Too steady.
"Don't worry," he said calmly.
"I won't kill you."
A faint smile.
"Not today."
Kainos smiled faintly.
"Interesting."
"Class—withdraw."
No one hesitated.
Soon—
Only four remained.
Three elites.
And one who looked weaker…
Yet far more dangerous.
Kainos stepped between them.
"That's enough."
A defeated student shouted:
"Let him fight!"
Chants began again.
Kainos raised a hand.
Silence fell instantly.
"No."
"This will become a chain of hatred."
"We are not here to make enemies."
He looked at Rolin.
"We are here to learn."
Rolin exhaled.
I survived… temporarily.
'Boring,' Likath muttered.
"No," Rolin thought. That's called good luck.
"First class dismissed," Kainos said.
Then, glancing once more at Rolin—
"But what I saw today…"
He didn't finish.
Rolin understood.
Running—
Would not be easy anymore.
Once class ended, the students surrounded him again.
"You were ready to crush them!"
"You're strong, Rolin!"
"Next time, take revenge for us!"
Rolin felt suffocated.
I've become a weapon.
Likath laughed softly.
'People love power, not truth.'
Kyle stepped in.
"That's enough."
"If you want revenge, train. Don't throw your dreams onto one person's shoulders."
Then quietly to Rolin:
"Don't let them make you a symbol. Symbols are the first to break."
"…Thanks."
"I'm not here to take revenge for anyone," Rolin said honestly. "I'm here to learn."
It wasn't heroic.
But it was real.
Later—
"I'm going to Geography and Survival Studies."
They stared.
"That's an elective for weird students."
"Or those who expect to die soon."
"Excellent," Rolin said calmly. "Perfect for me."
"The food can wait," he added.
"Death can't."
Silence.
"…That's annoyingly logical," someone admitted.
The classroom was smaller.
Older.
Stone walls. Torn maps. Real survival tools.
The professor entered—thin, gray-haired, sharp-eyed.
"Anyone who believes combat is why they survive…"
He smiled faintly.
"…dies first."
Something in Rolin's chest settled.
Finally.
Nine hours passed.
He didn't notice.
Stories of collapsed continents.
Armies erased by wind direction mistakes.
Silent zones where travelers weren't killed—
But forgotten.
When he finally looked up—
It was six in the evening.
The door opened.
Kyle stood there.
"…I thought you died."
"I was in class."
"…Since nine?"
"Yes."
Kyle stared.
"You're strange."
"Maybe."
Back in his dorm—
Rolin closed the door and exhaled.
"One day."
"Just one day."
'And magnificent,' Likath murmured.
"Likath… that voice earlier…"
Silence.
Then—
'Maybe… you're learning to sound frightening on your own.'
Rolin looked at his hand.
The line between his voice…
And that other one—
Might not be as clear anymore.
Outside, the academy lights flickered on.
And tomorrow—
Would be less forgiving.