The training hall was silent.
Only the faint hum of mana from the walls and the steady breathing of the candidates filled the air.
Arin stood in the center, barefoot on the polished floor, hands at his sides.
He looked calm — too calm. Like he wasn't here to prove anything… just waiting for it to be over.
At the far end of the hall, the heavy doors opened. Two figures entered.
Serah — the examiner from earlier — and beside her, the man everyone whispered about.
Sir Johan.
The strongest man alive. Even the air seemed to shift when they walked in. The other candidates straightened instinctively.
Serah's gaze swept across the group. "The next test," she said, her voice clear and precise, "is the mental trial. It measures your ability to stay calm under life-threatening pressure."
Her eyes paused on Arin for half a second — something in him caught her attention earlier.
She stepped forward, drawing a slender training sword. The metal gleamed faintly under the lights.
"This is not about strength," she continued. "If you panic… you fail."
Her heels clicked against the floor as she stopped in front of Arin.
"Candidate number seven," she said, though her tone hinted she already knew his name. "You're first."
Arin nodded once.
No emotion. No hesitation.
The room fell completely quiet.
Even Johan folded his arms, watching closely.
Serah exhaled slowly, and then—
CLANG—!
Her sword flashed.
A blur of silver light.
The blade stopped an inch from Arin's eyes.
The air split with the force of the swing — dust lifted off the floor.
But Arin didn't blink. Didn't even breathe.
His gaze stayed locked on her, calm and cold, like still water untouched by the wind.
For a full second, no one moved.
Then Serah pulled the blade back and stepped away, eyes narrowing slightly.
"…You didn't even flinch," she said quietly.
Arin only blinked once. "Was I supposed to?"
A faint, startled laugh escaped Johan before he covered it with a cough.
The other candidates exchanged uneasy looks — none of them could even imagine standing still through that.
Serah sheathed her blade, her tone returning to professional calm, but her eyes… they were sharper now.
"Very well. Step back."
Arin obeyed silently.
The next candidate stepped up — a tall man with visible tension in his shoulders.
"Ready?" Serah asked.
He nodded nervously.
SWOOSH!
The blade flashed again — stopping at the same distance.
The man gasped, stumbling back so hard he nearly fell.
"Fail," Serah said simply.
Two more tried. Both failed. One screamed before she even swung.
Johan watched quietly, his sharp eyes never leaving Arin.
There was something strange about the boy — not his strength, not even his stillness — but his presence.
When Serah's killing intent flared, it didn't crush him. It… vanished, like it had been swallowed by something deeper inside him.
He rubbed his temple, trying to make sense of it.
That energy… it's restrained. Heavy, like it's sleeping inside him. But for a moment— he swallowed hard —it felt like I was standing in front of a demon.
When the last candidate failed, Serah turned back to Johan. "Only one passed," she said. "Number seven."
Johan nodded slowly, his gaze meeting Arin's.
"Step forward," he ordered.
Arin did.
For a moment, Johan said nothing — just studied him.
Then, with a small, unreadable smile, he said, "Not bad, kid. I've seen men twice your age tremble under less pressure."
Arin stayed silent.
Johan leaned slightly closer. "But remember this — calmness without purpose can be as dangerous as rage."
His tone softened just enough for only Arin to hear. "Don't lose what makes you human."
Arin's eyes flickered briefly — something unreadable passed through them.
Then he nodded once.
Serah stepped forward again, regaining her composure. "Next phase will be situational testing. It will evaluate your decision-making in chaos. Report here at dawn."
She looked at Arin one last time before turning away — just a moment of curiosity lingering behind her otherwise professional expression.
As the candidates dispersed, the murmurs started.
"Did you see that? He didn't move an inch."
"Who even is that guy?"
"He looked dead inside… like nothing could scare him."
Arin didn't listen.
He just walked out quietly, his expression unreadable.
Inside, though… he felt something faint.
Not pride.
Not excitement.
Just a flic