The alarm rings.
Faint rays of sunlight pierce through the curtain blinds, thin beams settling across Tristan's dazed face. His eyes open slowly, unfocused, staring at the ceiling.
He raises a hand toward the air, fingers trembling slightly, his mouth parting.
"…Did I die?" Tristan mutters under his breath.
Fragments of the previous day rush back—the gate, the blood, the cheers, the declaration. His gaze steadies as the weight of it all settles in.
A quiet sigh escapes him.
He moves through his routine on instinct.
He brushes his teeth.
Takes a cold shower, the shock grounding his thoughts.
Changes into his training attire—a white T-shirt, black joggers, flexible shoes worn thin from use.
Then he runs.
Past neighborhood stores just opening for the day.
"Look over there, it's Tristan."
Through the park.
"Mom, look! It's the guy from the TV!"
He stops briefly at a vending machine.
"Woah… dude, it's Tristan. Think I can get a pic?"
He doesn't answer. He doesn't stop.
Eventually, he arrives at the Hunter Association's training grounds.
Weights clamp around his wrists and ankles. He selects a training sword and steps into the simulation zone.
A holographic screen flickers to life.
[Select Training Simulation Level]
[Level 1]
[Level 2]
[Level 3]
[Level 4]
[Level 5]
"Level five," Tristan says firmly, his grip tightening around the hilt.
{Set Duration}
"…An hour should be okay," he adds, brows furrowing.
{UPDATING…}
[SYSTEM UPDATED]
[COMMENCING SIMULATION]
"Okay," Tristan mutters.
He slides one foot back, gripping the sword with both hands. His eyes burn with quiet confidence.
"Let's do this."
---
"Make sure to come again, okay?" the old woman says warmly, waving.
"Sure thing, granny," Kade replies distractedly, eyes glued to his phone as he scrolls through endless comments beneath a clip of Tristan's declaration.
"…."
His brows knit together.
The image of Tristan's smiling face inside the gate flashes through his mind.
"He was definitely smiling…" Kade mutters, pressing his thumb harder against the screen. "…How can someone smile in the face of death?"
"!"
"…Only if one isn't afraid of death itself," he breathes, eyes widening as his hand slowly lowers.
I saw it. I saw how we all died in there.
Tristan's words echo in his mind.
"That's it!" Kade exclaims, suddenly moving, his steps quickening. "Tristan said he saw us all dying the first time we entered the gate…"
His pace increases.
"…But," Kade halts abruptly, sweat trickling down his temple. "He fought like he knew exactly what would happen—no… he has foresight. He can see a little into the future."
His thoughts race.
"But it's not omnipotent. Twenty seconds at most."
He clenches his fists.
"He fought like someone who didn't just see the fight…"
"…But like someone who had already fought it."
The same enemy.
The same environment.
The exact angles.
The precise slashes.
"…That's not foresight," Kade whispers, hands shaking.
"That's experience."
---
"Huff… huff…"
Tristan collapses onto the floor, the training sword slipping from his grasp.
{Calculating Final Evaluation…}
[NEW PERSONAL RECORD]
[87 B-RANK MONSTERS DEFEATED]
"A new record…" Tristan exhales. "But I know I can do better."
He forces himself upright, hands on his knees, drawing in a deep breath. Mana flows through his nostrils, circulating through his Kør before he exhales slowly.
"HEY!"
"!"
Tristan jolts, snapping his head toward the voice.
"Kade?"
"We need to talk."
"Talk about what?" Tristan asks, confusion creeping into his tone.
"You know," Kade replies, eyes drifting to the rack of training weapons. "No need for words."
He grabs a shield and straps it onto his arm.
"Let's spar."
"…Why?" Tristan asks, elbows resting on his knees.
"I need to check something."
Before Tristan can respond—
The ground cracks.
Kade launches forward, shield glowing a violent red.
Time slows.
Tristan's eyes flare gold. His instincts scream danger as mana floods his skin—
Too slow.
The shield crashes into his head.
Bone shatters. Blood sprays.
Darkness.
---
"We need to talk."
Tristan gasps, lungs burning as he finds himself back on the floor.
Kade stands before him.
"…Why?" Tristan asks, eyes locked onto Kade as his hand slowly reaches for his sword.
Kade notices.
A smile creeps onto his face.
He leans against the doorframe, arms folding casually.
"You can regress, can't you?" Kade asks, grin sharp as his gaze pierces Tristan.
"!"
"How do you know that?" Tristan snaps, grip tightening, sweat beading down his face.
"Simple," Kade replies, lowering his hands. "Before coming here, I already suspected you might be one."
He steps closer.
"So I thought about how I could confirm it."
Tristan remains silent.
"If I came here and attacked you," Kade continues, looming over him, "your body would react."
"And if you died…"
His eyes narrow.
"You'd come back different."
"What?" Tristan growls, veins bulging.
"Then how would you even know I regressed?" Tristan fires back. "How would you be sure?"
"Because," Kade replies calmly, "the moment you heard my voice…"
"…You leaked killing intent."
Not fear.
Not surprise.
"…Preparation."
Silence stretches between them.
"I need explanations, Tristan," Kade says firmly.
"…Crazy bastard," Tristan mutters.