"I don't think Zane is quitting the Master's training," Nenis said firmly, stepping forward. Her voice rang out clearly across the wide training hall. "We've all seen him. He's not the type to give up that easily. I can vouch that he'll come back to finish what he started."
Gasps and murmurs rippled through the trainees.
Everyone knew what it meant to step into the Master's training. It was brutal and merciless. The Master didn't care about your name, your rank, or your background. Once you started his training, there were only two outcomes: emerge a monster—or die trying.
No one was ever allowed to leave before it was over.
Zane's expression shifted, his cold gaze faltering for a split second. He looked at Nenis in disbelief. Out of all people—her? She had never liked him. Not once. In fact, she had every reason to use this moment to bring him down for good. His actions today had broken a major rule. If she pushed it, he could be permanently executed without a chance of revival.
But instead—she stood on his side.
Why?
Why help him?
Before he could say a word, Instructor Marius' voice cut through the tension.
"Zane," he said calmly as his sharp gaze dropped to the sword gripped in Zane's hand. "That sword… what were you planning to do with it?"
The question hung heavy in the air.
Marius knew Zane wasn't an ordinary trainee. The kid had guts—and an unshakable will. But to think he was seriously challenging him?
The three Apex-ranked trainees who had surrounded Zane slowly lowered their hands and backed away. The air had shifted. Onilia relaxed her stance as well, though her eyes never left Zane.
As Zane stepped forward, passing by her, she silently followed behind. Her presence wasn't hostile—it was protective. A silent promise that she wouldn't let anyone interfere.
The other trainees remained still, tension holding their breaths captive. Some of them were secretly grateful to Zane—for causing a scene that interrupted what would've been another round of torturous training. Even if just for a moment.
Zane stopped a few feet away from Instructor Marius. The man looked as still as a statue, his long coat swaying gently with the cold wind.
Zane's voice was low, but it struck like thunder.
"I planned to kill you with it."
A few trainees gasped. Onilia stepped up behind him, her gaze scanning the room like a guardian beast, silently daring anyone to move.
Marius slowly began walking toward Zane.
His steps made no sound.
Not even a whisper.
When he stopped, he stood just inches from the boy, close enough for Zane to feel the air shift around him. Marius' face held no emotion, only cold calculation.
"Five months ago," Marius began, his voice soft but filled with steel, "You told me something. You said that when you decide to do something, you don't even consider the possibility of failure."
He took another step closer.
"So… do you truly believe you are capable of taking my life with a piece of steel?"
The moment those words left his mouth, the atmosphere changed violently.
An invisible wave of pressure exploded from Marius.
It wasn't magic.
It wasn't energy.
It was pure killing intent—a crushing force of will that struck like a falling mountain. Dozens of trainees dropped to their knees, gasping for breath. Cold sweat drenched their faces. They couldn't even lift their heads.
Even Onilia flinched and stepped back. The other Apex—ranked trainees retreated instinctively, their bodies reacting before their minds could.
The force was primal—a domination field, meant to paralyze those with even a sliver of fear in their hearts.
But Zane?
He didn't move an inch.
Not because he was stronger.
Not because he had more power.
But because he wasn't afraid.
He had already died multiple times. He had faced pain, despair, loss. Death no longer terrified him. And the worst Marius could do now… was kill him again.
That thought no longer shook him.
"How is that bastard still standing?" one of the trainees whispered in awe, feeling like a helpless mouse under the gaze of a predator.
Zane finally responded, his voice steady despite the pressure.
"No," he said. "I don't believe I can kill you, not yet at least."
Marius's eyes narrowed, a hint of confusion flashing across his face.
"Then why did you point your sword at me, Zane? Why declare me your target if you knew you couldn't win?"
Zane gripped his sword tighter.
He raised his head and met Marius's gaze with unwavering determination.
"It's because I knew I would fail… that I chose you as my target, Instructor Marius."
"I was simply trying to get the Master's attention."
Zane's voice came out flat, devoid of emotion, like cold steel on a winter morning. His grip on the sword remained firm, yet there was no anger in his eyes—only resolve.
"It's because I know the Master won't let you kill me. At least… not permanently."
A heavy silence followed.
Instructor Marius narrowed his eyes. His expression was calm, but the slight twitch of his jaw hinted at curiosity—or annoyance.
"And how sure are you of that?" Marius asked calmly, though his presence still radiated like a blade half-drawn.
Zane raised his blade, pointing it squarely at the towering man before him. His stance was firm and unshaken.
"Shall we put it to the test?" he replied.
The words echoed like a challenge across the vast training hall, and tension rippled through the air like a coming storm.
From the moment Zane first set foot on Zoic, an unshakable unease had clung to him. It was the sensation of unseen eyes tracking his every move—the distinct feeling that the Master's attention lingered on him for reasons unknown. Though he had no proof beyond instinct, that primal certainty now fueled his desperation. Every fiber of his being screamed that this gamble was his only chance.
But before the instructor could respond—
"There's no need."
The voice rang out—not loud, but impossibly clear. It didn't just travel through the air—it cut through it. Time seemed to halt as that voice entered the room.
Suddenly, space twisted.
The air thickened like syrup, and from nothingness, a figure materialized at the far end of the hall.
Daikyn Zodiache had arrived.
The moment he appeared, everyone dropped to one knee.
No hesitation.
No resistance.
Even Zane, who just seconds ago had challenged his Instructor, found himself kneeling before he realized it. His body had moved on its own, as if obeying some ancient instinct that screamed "Submit."
Unlike Marius, Daikyn didn't release a single drop of killing intent.
That's what made it worse.
There was no pressure. No glare. No aura.
Yet his presence alone crushed them.
Even Marius knelt—the instructor who taught monsters to become demons. His head lowered in silence like a devout worshipper before a god.
Zane clenched his teeth, his fists trembling slightly.
It wasn't fear.
It was frustration.
The bitter taste of helplessness coated his mouth like ash. He had always been able to plan his way out of danger—on Earth, he could devise ways to counter bullies, even if he never used them. Here, against his fellow trainees, he believed that through effort, pain, and time, he could catch up.
But Daikyn was different.
No amount of training, scheming, or dying would ever let him close the gap. Zane felt it in his bones, in the marrow of his soul. This man was untouchable.
"Zane," Daikyn finally spoke, his tone calm and regal.
He didn't raise his voice, yet it carried the weight of mountains.
"Tell me... why should I make an exception for you?"
His question hung like a sword above Zane's head.
The hall was deathly silent.
Everyone still knelt, heads bowed to the ground. No one dared to look up—not even the Apex trainees.
Dust motes floated slowly in the still air, illuminated by the rays of light pouring from the high windows. The ceiling seemed impossibly far away now, the world reduced to silence beneath the presence of a being far above them.