When I opened my eyes—vision still swimming—I found myself lying exactly where I'd collapsed, back on the cold arena floor. A hand hovered just above my wound, and then, warmth flooded my thigh. Not comforting warmth, but a tingling, pulsing heat that burned for an instant before vanishing, taking the numbness with it.
I sucked in a sharp breath as clarity returned. The sky stared back at me.
Groaning, I sat up, still dizzy. A pale young man with sunken cheeks and tired eyes flinched as I moved, startled, as if I'd risen from the grave.
He recovered quickly, offering a hand to steady me. I gripped it, more out of necessity than trust. My throat felt dry, my voice rough.
"Who… are you?"
"The healer," he said simply, helping me to my feet and guiding me to the infirmary.
The cot creaked as I lay down. My body ached—not just from the wound, but from the memory of almost dying. I let out a slow breath, letting the silence hold me together.
"How long until I can walk again?" I rasped.
The healer looked me over, then shrugged. "Two days, maybe three. But... we've got potions that can get you up in minutes. Not cheap, though."
"Just get it," I said flatly. "I'll pay."
The healer gave a short nod and left to retrieve the potion from the storage room.
For a moment, I closed my eyes, trying to push away the pounding in my head. But peace never lasts.
Hearing the rushed footsteps I look towards the door where I saw the clerk instead, running toward me with worry in his eyes. Seeing my condition— which didn't appear too serious— he calmed down then said in a hurry:
"Oh thank gods... I mean— sir! I'm so sorry," he said, panting. "There was a misunderstanding with the management. When I asked them to prepare for your examination they thought it was for another member– who had rescheduled his third examination for tomorrow— he wanted to boost his ID level..."
He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck.
Then came the awkward laugh. "Silver lining though? You survived! Actually, you killed the monster. In fifteen seconds. So, uh… congratulations? You've been bumped to Rank 6."
I stared at him.
"That's…. pretty great. Right?"
"Leave," I said, my voice low and tight.
His eyes widened, and he straightened like a rod. "Y-yes, sir. Your ID's ready at reception. Have a great—uh, rest of your day." Then he practically fled.
I sat there, fists clenched in the sheets.
A mistake. They sent me to die because of a mistake.
I could feel my heartbeat pounding again, not from fear— but fury. I wanted to drag him back to that arena and see how brave he'd be with fangs an inch from his throat. But no. Revenge was a waste of energy. I had bigger things to focus on. What's happened has happened, I can't let my anger blind me.
I have a plan: Survival. Disappearance. Freedom.
So for now, I need to stay focused.
And then, as my breath steadied, another memory surfaced. That phrase—the one that had echoed in my mind just before everything changed. I hadn't said it aloud. I hadn't even understood it. But the moment it passed through me, the monster vanished. Not slain. Erased.
I shivered.
Even now, I could feel the echo of that moment—a lingering energy in the air, like static clinging to my skin. I didn't dare repeat the phrase, not even in my head. Something deep inside warned me not to. Its too dangerous.
As far as I can guess, it should be a spell.
The spells are ancient words born from the very fabric of this world, long before mana or magic even existed. Spells didn't require energy. They required will. Emotion. Clarity. Control.
Only a few could ever cast them— even knowing a spell was rare in itself, let alone mastering the will to use it. Spellcasters are rarer than the rarest mages, and more feared. More revered.
So… the question is: how did I do it? How did I know a spell?
Or rather— how did Sebastian know it?
And why did it appear in my head when I was just about to die?
Anyway, all of this leads me to one unsettling conclusion— I've uncovered something far beyond what I was prepared for.
But instead of answers, it's only raised more questions.
Sebastian had secrets. Dangerous ones. And somehow, even I— now living in his place— don't know them.
I had guessed that he was not normal, but this... this is something I wasn't expecting.
A knock interrupted my spiral. The healer had returned, holding a small glass vial of shimmering crimson liquid.
I took it without a word, popped the stopper, and drank.
It hit me instantly. Warmth surged through my veins like lightning, washing away every trace of fatigue and tension like it had never been there. My muscles tightened, then relaxed. Within seconds, I was left refreshed.
Expensive, but worth every coin.
After paying for the potion at the reception and taking my ID, I left the Guild.
Outside, I slipped off my disguise. The sun was still out. I checked the time— almost thirty minutes had passed since I entered.
Just enough to keep my cover intact.
I let out a slow breath.
Now, no more distractions.
The next destination was clear.
I turned on my heel and walked toward the bakery— where Sir Jasper would be waiting.