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After lunch, the group headed to the forest once more for their final practice lesson.

Borik, a dwarf man, was in charge of this session. He was also Cika's vice principal.

Pierre's interest was piqued—this was the first ti he had seen a tank NPC who seed to be high-level.

"Gather around, everyone. This will be your last lesson before the exams," he said.

Borik stepped forward, rubbing his hands together as he eyed the gathered students and players.

"Alright, listen up," he said, his voice gruff but steady. "This ain't just another practice session.

This lesson is about holding your ground under pressure—because in two days, you'll be tested on more than just your ability to swing a sword or cast a spell."

So of the students exchanged glances, intrigued.

Borik pointed toward a clearing in the forest. "I've set up a training zone. Your goal? Hold your position against an incoming force for ten minutes.

Sounds easy? It ain't. Because here's the catch—you cannot dodge or run. You either block, deflect, counter, or endure."

Pierre's eyes sharpened thinking this was a true tank's test.

"You'll be under constant attacks from moving training dummies, spell turrets, and even a few summoned beasts," Borik continued. "This ain't about taking hits. This is about managing pressure, controlling space, and knowing how to stand your ground."

"Wait," Zack said, crossing his arms. "What if you're not a tank? So of us aren't built to just stand there and take it."

Borik smirked. "That's the point. Everyone in battle gets pressured. Tanks hold the front. Warriors control the flow.

Mages and summoners need to protect their casting space. Priests can't heal if they're knocked flat. You all need to learn how to withstand an assault without breaking formation.

So, this is not a lesson for tanks. They should be able to do that already. This is a lesson for others."

The group quieted, realizing the depth of the exercise.

"You'll go in groups of three. The test ends when ti is up or when you're forced out of the zone. Fail to last ten minutes, and you'll need to try again."

Evan chuckled. "Sounds like a nightmare for anyone who relies on dodging."

Borik grinned. "Aye, and that's why it'll be part of your exam. You won't always have the luxury of dodging in a real battle.

Sotis, you must stand and face what's coming. For the exam, you'll need to hold your ground for twenty minutes!"

With that shocking announcent, murmurs erupted across the group.

But Borik silenced them with a sharp clap of his hands. "Enough chit-chat! Get into your groups."

The students quickly shuffled into random teams. Having a tank in the group would be an advantage, but most didn't seem to mind.

The players, in particular, had fewer concerns.

They felt less pain than the real students, and more importantly, they had an HP bar to guide them—telling them when to retreat and when it was safe to take a hit.

***

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Each group took turns entering the arena-like space, where they were attacked relentlessly from all sides.

So groups struggled to hold their ground, while others adapted quickly, learning to deflect, counter, or simply endure the onslaught.

Those with tanks in their teams had a clear advantage, but everyone had to figure out how to manage the pressure in their own way.

When it was Arlon's turn, he, once again, entered with June and i.

It wasn't sothing he had planned—he had simply gone in with whoever was closest.

As soon as the trial began, magic turrets activated, summoning energy projectiles that flew toward them at varying speeds.

At the sa ti, chanical training dummies charged forward, swinging enchanted weapons ant to simulate real combat.

But to Arlon, this was easy.

Unlike most students who focused on survival, he took the opportunity to add extra challenges for himself.

Each ti an attack ca, he waited until the last possible second before reacting.

He didn't just block or evade—he tested his limits, analyzing angles, redirecting force, and guiding attacks rather than simply avoiding them.

His movents were precise and controlled.

Even though he was already accustod to dodging with slight movents, this lesson wasn't about dodging. It was about withstanding pressure.

So, in the end, he took so hits.

But none of them were random.

Arlon guided the attacks, letting them strike areas where they wouldn't hinder his ability to fight.

A hit to the arm instead of the ribs. A strike to the shoulder instead of the legs. He absorbed damage on his own terms.

anwhile, June and i fought differently.

i, as a mage, had to be careful with her positioning.

Instead of moving too much, she focused on placing protective barriers at just the right mont, using them to absorb incoming attacks rather than blocking everything at once.

June, on the other hand, used a mixture of offense and defense, sending out controlled bursts of magic to disrupt enemy patterns while keeping herself from getting overwheld.

The three of them worked independently, but their instincts naturally aligned.

By the ti the ten minutes ended, Arlon had barely broken a sweat.

What he didn't realize was that Borik had already caught on.

Having watched Arlon during the team lessons, Borik knew exactly how he fought.

And when he saw Arlon deliberately delaying his reactions against each attack, he imdiately understood the situation.

The dwarf gave a small nod, as if confirming sothing to himself.

Of course, Arlon didn't see it.

As they left the training area, i turned to June. "It looks like you completed your mission for Professor Orlen's lesson."

"Thanks to you," June admitted. "During PE yesterday, I started researching my staff. Since it was a gift from Arlon, I hadn't checked it properly before."

June sighed. "The first book I opened had the answer. I can't believe how irresponsible I was to not inspect my own equipnt before using it. Literally any book would have given the answer—even a children's book on it."

Her frustration wasn't unfounded. The Infernal Spire wasn't just any staff—it was one of the most sought-after pieces of equipnt.

i, however, had latched onto sothing else entirely.

"Wait." She narrowed her eyes. "What do you an it was a gift from Arlon?"

June blinked. "Oh. Didn't I ntion it before? Arlon was the one who found it, but he gave it to , saying sothing like, I don't need it."

i stared at her, stunned.

"He gave it to you?"

Who in their right mind gifts sothing like the Infernal Spire?

Anyone who found it would be instantly rich. They would never have to work another day in their life.

They would be famous. There was even a high chance that the one who discovered it would be recorded in history books.

And Arlon just gave it away?

Her mind raced, instinctively searching for a reason.

Because no one—no one—would hand over sothing that valuable to a random person.

…Except, apparently, Arlon.

But she didn't know him that well, so a misunderstanding was forming in her head.

And what she really didn't know was that wealth and fa in this world ant nothing to the players.

Because at the end of the day, they couldn't take any of it back to Earth.

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