Returning to his room was the only thing that ca to his mind, and no matter how much his body begged for rest, he wasn't about to collapse here in the hallway.
Just as Ashok neared the exit of the Private Training Area, a sharp voice cut through the still air, commanding him to halt.
"STOP!"
The sudden urgency made him pause, turning back toward the reception counter, where the receptionist remained seated, her gaze locked onto him.
Her expression was unreadable—calm yet pointed, a knowing glint in her eyes as she leaned forward slightly, preparing to speak.
With deliberate emphasis, she stated—
"I am sure there are no 'thieves' inside the Academy who would simply use the training room for an extra hour for free. So, You must have forgotten to pay for the additional ti you spent."
The word thieves carried a sharp, mocking undertone, laced with enough sarcasm to make her aning crystal clear.
Ashok could feel the weight of her words and tone, yet he lacked the energy or patience to entertain any conversation—let alone a battle of wits.
Fatigue pressed down on him, his limbs sluggish, his mind fogged with exhaustion, his eyes unbearably heavy.
At this mont, the only thing he wanted was sleep, and yet, he still had to return to his dorm before his body completely shut down.
Conversation wasn't an option.
Debating wasn't an option.
Without hesitation, he simply pulled out his ID Card, handed it over, and waited for the transaction to be completed.
No words. No complaints.
"It will cost double, for the inconvenience caused to other students by using the training room for an extra hour without informing beforehand."
The words carried a pointed tone, a subtle reprimand hidden beneath her professional deanor.
Ashok sighed inwardly, irritation prickling as he heard the receptionist voice at his already fatigued mind.
"Just cut the balance."
His response was clipped, devoid of patience—he had no interest in arguing or dragging out the conversation.
The receptionist's fingers moved to process the deduction, but she continued speaking.
"I was going to do it without needing you to tell ," she stated, her voice carrying a trace of amusent.
Then—a pause, followed by an observation.
"Though I have to say, you have quite so concentration. You neither got up from the loud bell that rings every hour nor when I personally called several tis after your three hours were up. Seeing your focus, I let you continue—but don't make a habit of this."
It was ant as a mix of criticism and praise, perhaps even mild curiosity, yet the words fell on deaf ears.
Ashok was far beyond caring—his mind fogged with exhaustion, his limbs heavy, his only thought being sleep.
Without so much as a response, he snatched his ID Card from her extended hand and walked away, too drained to consider decorum.
The receptionist's frown deepened as she muttered under her breath—
"How rude."
In her eyes, Ashok looked perfectly fine, not a hint of weakness visible on his exterior.
She had no idea how drained he truly was, how his body scread for rest, how his mind fought against collapsing on the spot.
All she saw was a composed figure—a misconception born from the subtle influence of his Charisma.
Ashok's journey back to his dorm was a silent struggle, every step a fight against the overwhelming fatigue gripping his body.
Several tis, he felt himself teetering on the edge, his balance wavering, the sensation of gravity pulling him forward—threatening to send him face-first into the ground.
Yet, despite it all, he never truly fell.
Upon entering his room, Ashok moved with chanical precision, his thoughts sluggish but still functional enough to register what needed to be done.
The first task—set an alarm for 8:00 P.M., ensuring he wouldn't miss dinner after already skipping lunch.
The second acknowledgnt—his evening session of External Art training was out of the question.
At this point, forcing himself to stay awake any longer would only lead to disaster.
He barely registered the feeling of his limbs moving, his body sinking onto the bed as he tucked the enchanted bedsheet around himself.
The mont his head t the magically enhanced pillow, its enchantnt activated, washing over him with a soothing, instantaneous effect.
His body surrendered in an instant.
His mind drifted into darkness before he could even process the relief of lying down.
And just like that—Ashok was asleep.
…
RIINGG!
RINGG!
The alarm clock blared through the room, its chanical chi piercing the silence, loud enough to wake anyone—except Ashok.
His body, weighed down by accumulated physical and ntal fatigue, remained motionless, refusing to stir even under the relentless ringing.
It wasn't just exhaustion.
It was complete shutdown, a deep sleep unlike anything he had ever experienced before.
And just like that—the alarm fell silent, its cycle ending without accomplishing its task.
…
Ti passed, the room wrapped in silence.
Then, finally—Ashok stirred.
A slow movent, a lazy rub of the eyes, followed by a groggy attempt to sit up.
But it wasn't rest that had satisfied him—it was hunger.
A raw, insatiable emptiness in his stomach, clawing at his senses, demanding attention.
Glancing at his watch, the ti flashed—11:00 P.M.
It had been half a day since he last ate, and now, his body refused to ignore the need for food any longer.
He had overslept by three hours, missing both dinner and his evening training.
But despite the soreness lingering in his muscles, his body felt considerably better, the ache faded to a dull stiffness rather than unbearable fatigue.
And more importantly—his mind felt clearer, sharper than before.
As Ashok's mind replayed everything that had transpired inside the Mana Training Room, a sudden wave of dread crashed over him.
His Sole Survivor Trait was still active, still boosting his Mana Core Rank to D-.
His breath hitched.
Without hesitation, he deactivated the trait, and as his core plumted back to its original F- rank, his thoughts spiraled into panic.
'Had anyone sensed my increase in rank? Did I encounter any teachers along the way?'
Ashok's mind raced.
The Academy was well aware that only Leon had broken into D Rank within the first year—his achievent was highly regarded, placing him among the most esteed talents.
If another student were discovered to have breached that threshold, it would undoubtedly spark investigations, attention, and unwanted scrutiny.
And worst of all—it would bring problems Ashok wasn't ready to face.
He replayed his steps, searching his mory for any encounters, any lingering gazes, any chance that his abnormal rank might have been noticed.
Minutes passed as he jogged through every detail, and finally—a sigh of relief escaped his lips.
There had been no teachers.
No chance of his rank being detected. He did not need to worry about receptionist since she was just a ordinary staff not at the sa level as the teachers.
For now—he was safe.
But the realization still left him shaken.
'I nearly made myself an experintal rat just because of ntal fatigue.'
The thought burned with frustration, forcing him to curse his own foolishness.
Ashok's thoughts churned as he swung his legs over the bed, the lingering weight of his earlier mistake still pressing against his mind.
'I need to stay on guard at all tis. I can't afford to ruin my future over small slip-ups like this.'
This was a mistake he couldn't afford to repeat.
The realization kept him grounded as he pushed himself up, heading straight for the sink to wash his face, letting the cool water refresh his senses before stepping out of his room.
As Ashok walked through the quiet halls, his body still slightly sore, he couldn't help but feel a fleeting sense of gratitude for the Academy's round-the-clock cafeteria access.
If there had been restricted al tis or a Dorm Curfew, he would have had no choice but to sleep on an empty stomach, a miserable prospect after everything he had endured today.
Upon entering the cafeteria, Ashok went straight to the ordering counter, wasting no ti in selecting the most expensive al available.
After all—why not?
With his special discount cutting the price in half, it would be a waste not to take advantage of it.
He settled into his usual spot, his posture relaxing as he enjoyed the hearty al, washing it down with a well-earned drink, his body slowly regaining so of its lost vitality.
Then—without lingering, he rose from his seat, prepared to leave.
Despite the lingering fatigue, Ashok hesitated to return to his room right away.
Sure, he could sleep until the next day, allowing his body to recover even further.
But there was no end to sleep—and more than rest, what he truly needed now was progress.
A way to increase his current strength, to push himself toward sothing tangible.
Yet, this ti—it wasn't the Training Area calling him.
It was the Blacksmith Departnt.
A place brimming with heat, tal, and the sounds of forging, where weapons were shaped, refined, and perfected.
Where Hamiel himself—the departnt's owner and one of the Senior Teacher's—had personally invited him.
Ashok had been given an opportunity, and now—it was ti to use it.
To make the true use of his Gold Pass.
Ashok strolled along the path, the cool night breeze brushing against his skin.
The Academy grounds were eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the usual bustling energy during the day.
Only a handful of students were still awake at this hour, their distant figures barely noticeable, scattered across the pathways and courtyards.
The silence was comforting, a rare mont of solitude amidst the chaos of training and study.
Unlike the Training Area, which was conveniently located near the Dorms, the Blacksmith Departnt rested far on the northwestern side of the island—a place almost secluded from the main campus routes.
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