Arthur walked over and touched the large crystal. The instant his fingers made contact, everything froze—not because time had stopped, but because an unnatural silence descended. Everyone ceased talking. The crystal pulsed with blue-black void magic, and every eye in the room widened in shock.
The girl running the assessment stumbled backward, her face pale. There had never been an F-rank before—that was supposed to be the weakest possible. Yet Arthur had somehow achieved an H-rank, which shouldn't exist. He was breaking the system itself.
"How is he that weak?" a student muttered from the bleachers.
The woman's gaze cut down to the student who had spoken. "He's not weak," she said sharply.
"And how do you know that?" the student challenged.
Her smile held no warmth. "Because if he truly had H-rank magic, he would have no magic at all. Which makes me wonder—how does he supposedly have no magic, yet the crystal shows void magic? The contradiction itself is staggering."
This wasn't what was supposed to happen. Soul stepped back, maintaining his cold expression, though a flicker of shock crossed his face before vanishing.
"Void magic? Is that really what he has?" a voice said from directly behind Arthur. "It's nothing compared to my shadow magic."
Arthur spun around. A slightly younger man stood there, dressed entirely in black, his dark hair seeming to absorb the light around him.
"My shadow magic surpasses any magic in this academy," the stranger declared.
Arthur immediately activated his inspect skill. The system flickered to life: Name: Anonymous. Age: Anonymous. Hobbies: Anonymous. Weapons: Anonymous. The stats of living and nonliving organisms has been unlocked. Stats: Anonymous.
Arthur's eyes widened. Usually the system provided names, ages, hobbies, and weapons. The stats had finally unlocked, but everything remained anonymous. Not even the system knew who this person was.
"What do I call this guy? Just Anonymous? Does he even have a name?" Arthur wondered.
The man caught the question in Arthur's eyes. "You want to know my name? Well, I have none," he said. "People here call me Anonymous, so I suppose that would suffice. But in reality, I have no name."
Soul stepped forward, his expression colder than ever. "I prefer you don't hurt my student," he said, his voice like ice.
Anonymous smiled, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "Oh, you're protective? You think I care about you at all?" His smile widened. "Listen to me closely, Soul. You can't do anything against me. I'm not saying this arrogantly—I mean it literally. You can't touch me, because if you do, people will come after you. And it will not be pretty."
He conjured a pool of shadows beneath his feet and sank into them, disappearing from sight.
Everyone stood frozen. The crystal finally returned to normal, but shock still gripped the crowd. Their minds remained fixed on Arthur's H-rank magic. Arthur and Soul, however, focused on something else entirely.
"No way. This guy, Anonymous—is he that secretive?" Arthur thought. "Or is he so hidden that not even the system knows anything about him?"
Soul's thoughts turned darker. "He thinks he's untouchable? I think not. Everyone is touchable. Everyone can be killed—whether by old age, natural causes, or by another's hand. Everything dies. Everything can feel pain, and if they can't, then everything can be damaged. He's not invincible. He's relying on something else to back him up in case things go wrong. But I'm not going to play his game. He wants me to hurt him, to test him. I'm not going to give him that satisfaction. I'm going to wait and do nothing, because I have better things to do than waste time hunting down some brat."
Soul looked away and walked toward the bleachers where everyone else sat. Eventually, Arthur followed, and the magic testing continued. The woman who ran the assessment did not immediately dismiss Arthur. Usually, anyone with D-rank magic or less would be expelled, but curiosity stayed her hand.
As Arthur walked toward the bleachers, a system notification materialized before him—black screen, white text appearing in his vision:
*One of the members of the Black Serpent has challenged you. The members of the Black Serpent seek war, looking to destroy everything in their path and eventually resurrect their god, the Serpent King. To stop this mindless destruction, destroy the Church of the Black Serpent. This is a long-term quest. You have two years to complete it. If you fail to complete this quest within two years, you will die, and so will everyone else on this planet.*
Arthur stared at the quest, shaken. The Black Serpent—who were they?
This time, when he mentally asked what this was, the system actually answered, unlike the many times it had remained silent.
*The Black Serpent is a cult that worships the Serpent God, also known as the Serpent King. The Serpent King has ordered them to destroy the entire world to bring him back. They are devoted to this cause and will stop at nothing to achieve it. More information on the Black Serpent will be unlocked as you progress deeper into this quest.*
*Quest Reward: Instant Level Down.*
"Interesting," Arthur thought. "Not an instant level up, but an instant level down. Considering all my status points are negative numbers, it should work the same way for levels."
"Get out of the way!" A man with green hair shoved past Arthur, sending him stumbling.
Arthur quickly dismissed the system screen.
"Just standing there like a creep," the green-haired student muttered as he walked toward the bleachers.
Eventually, Arthur regained his composure and followed, not wanting to appear insane.
"I should ask Soul about the Black Serpent," Arthur thought. "But if anyone else knows about this, who knows—maybe we'll go to war sooner than anyone realizes. I don't think anyone even knows the Black Serpent exists. Maybe it's just me. But if that's the case, I have to tell someone. I can't go into this alone. I'll die, and I don't know how strong these members are. I'm not trying to risk anything here. I have to tell Soul."
Meanwhile, in a church spanning miles in length, a shadow pool opened inside the grand entrance. A man leaped out of the darkness.
"Welcome back, Anonymous," a man said, walking toward the shadow figure.
Anonymous stared at him coldly. "I met some people at the academy," he said. "And you know what? I want to go to war."
The man stopped. "You want to go to war, Anonymous? You know we can't go to war with everyone yet. We don't have the right supplies. Plus, I would have to inform your father—"
"I don't care about him," Anonymous snapped. "If he doesn't want to go to war, then I will."
Anonymous conjured another pool of shadows and vanished inside.
The man pulled out a button and pressed it. His voice echoed through hidden speakers: "Attention, everyone. We go to war in six months. Be prepared. We don't have much time."
He dropped the button on the ground and walked away.
"Going to war?" an old man said, rising from a seat inside a lavishly decorated room. "Why would we be going to war? Anonymous can't be out here wanting to wage war for petty reasons like this. I'll have to teach that boy a lesson."
"What about the Cult of the Magicless?" a man asked from the doorway.
"The Cult of the Magicless? Oh yes. Did you take them out and bring them here?"
"Everyone's locked up. I have the leader with me."
The man gestured toward the leader, who was still bound. Bruises ringed his neck and arms where his captor had gripped him. The old man smiled with satisfaction.
"Excellent work."
The leader still wore his sword and black robes. "Like I said," the leader rasped, "they're going to die a painful and terrible death, and I'll be here to see every moment of it."
"Shut your mouth," the old man commanded.
The leader coughed up blood. "Make me."
The old man pulled out a large, heated knife and pressed it against the man's thigh. The leader screamed in agony for several moments before the old man lifted the blade and threw it to the ground.
"Shut your mouth," the old man said coldly.
"Go to hell," the leader spat back. "You and all your Black Serpent members—all of you can go straight to hell. And if you do kill me, I'll make sure to haunt you for the rest of your life. It won't be pretty."
"I still need your information, so I'm not going to kill you," the old man said calmly.
"You think I'm giving you any information about my group? I'm not that foolish," the leader said. "I've run the Cult of the Magicless for years. You think I'd give up everything just because I'm in pain or my life is on the line? If that were the case, all my information would have been leaked to the world long ago. You wouldn't believe how many times I've been tortured. I'm sure your torture won't be any different."
The old man's expression hardened. "You think you're invincible, don't you?"
The bound man stood silently, staring at the argument, not even blinking. He didn't know what to do. Should he leave? Maybe. But the leader of the Black Serpent might notice. So he remained, watching the two bicker.
"Your torture is no different from any other I've endured," the leader continued, his voice defiant. "Believe me, I've been through so many harrowing moments you couldn't even imagine. I've been on the brink of death before and didn't even flinch. Kill me. Do it. I don't fear death. Just know that my influence extends far beyond the Cult of the Magicless. You will be hunted down. You will be killed. And even in death, I'll watch your blood leak from your body, you sick freak."
The old man rose from his chair and stared down at the leader with icy contempt. "Well, if you think that's the case..." He walked behind the leader toward the wall, placed his hand against it, and the wall opened to reveal a large staircase spiraling downward into absolute darkness. Screams echoed from below—tortured, inhuman sounds that made the leader's blood run cold despite his bravado.
The old man's smile widened as he gestured toward the abyss. "I'm sure you'll be saddened about being tortured one last time."
The leader's defiant expression faltered for just a moment as the screams grew louder. "As long as you die, I'm fine with it," he said, but his voice trembled.
The old man leaned in close, his breath hot against the leader's ear. "Oh, I won't be the one dying today. But someone you know very well will be joining you down there. Someone who's been waiting for you."
From the darkness below, a familiar voice called out—weak, broken, but unmistakable.
The leader's eyes went wide with horror.
"No," he whispered. "That's impossible. He's—"
"Dead?" The old man laughed. "Not quite. Not yet, anyway. But after you two have your reunion..." He shoved the leader toward the stairs. "Well, let's just say the Black Serpent has very special plans for both of you."
As the leader stumbled forward into the darkness, the wall began to close behind him, sealing him in with whatever nightmare awaited below.
The old man turned to the bound observer. "Tell Anonymous his war begins tonight. And tell him we've just acquired something far more valuable than information."
The wall sealed shut with a final, echoing boom.
The screaming stopped.
Then, from the depths, something else began—a sound that was neither human nor animal, but something far, far worse.