Silence crept across the entire arena. It was as if countless people had forgotten how to breathe. Gazes, whispers, even heartbeats felt overwhelmingly loud. Arzael stood still, only his shadow trembling under the arena’s light. From the side of the field, the Association guards stepped forward toward him.
Nearby, Seraphina tried to block the Association hero guards who wanted to take Arzael, but when she saw Arzael’s face hidden beneath the dark hood, she imdiately understood his intention. And so Seraphina let the guards take him.
The guards cast their spells in unison. Chains of light wrapped around Arzael’s body, restraining his arms and torso, leaving only his legs free to move.
After that, Arzael was led down the wide corridor by several guards. Soon, they disappeared from view.
The atmosphere in the coliseum, which had been silent, began to pulse again. Whispered murmurs ca from the stands; so spectators looked uneasy, others just glanced at each other, unsure of what to say.
A small murmur slowly spread, replacing the silence that had pressed down monts ago.
"Seraphina... I’m worried." Puff’s voice sounded from behind Seraphina’s hair.
Seraphina replied, "He’ll be fine."
"Those words won’t erase my worry, Phina."
The chains of light around his body shimred faintly with each step Arzael took. The scraping sound of the guards’ shoes echoed in unison with their march, blending with the distant hubbub from the arena. As they exited the massive coliseum, the air of Hero Haven felt different, dense, full of stares.
The streets quickly filled with whispers. People stopped what they were doing, turning toward the line of guards escorting the hooded figure in black.
"That’s... Participant No. 439?" soone muttered at the edge of the street.
"Why is he being taken?" another asked, furrowing their brow.
"Obviously he’s being taken, can’t you see? His points are already abnormal," a man replied, voice laced with suspicion.
"Of course... that’s a walking monster," said a woman, clutching her child tightly.
The long journey took nearly half an hour. After passing through three security gates and entering the core area of Hero Haven, they arrived at a grand building with pillars carved with rune engravings layered in gold.
The Hall of Inquisition.
The massive black doors layered with mithril opened slowly, releasing a heavy creak that echoed throughout. Arzael was brought into a spacious, semi-circular room. Black stone seats were arranged along the top, while the lower area remained a flat floor where he now stood alone, the chains of light still restraining him.
At the top seats, the Association Hero elites were already waiting. The atmosphere was oppressive, their sharp gazes stripping him bare. The room’s aura seed to weigh down on him, yet Arzael did not imdiately lift his head. He let his eyes sweep slowly, the system within his body responding automatically.
[Threat Level Activated]
Imdiately, faint lights appeared on the figures in the upper stands. Most glowed green, safe, harmless. So flickered yellow, indicating they could cause problems, but were not threats.
However, among them, there were two distinct lights.
Dark red. Intense, pulsing like embers ready to explode at any mont.
And one more... darker, heavier. Black. Unknown, its threat level indiscernible.
Arzael’s gaze sharpened.
’...Class S.’
The chains of light restraining his body creaked softly as he lifted his head slightly. His red eyes stared straight at the glowing figures without flinching, without fear.
A woman in a pristine white robe tapped on the desk in front of her, her voice loud.
"Here, we will assess and interrogate you. You will answer, and we will know if you lie or not."
She leaned forward, eyes scanning Arzael sharply.
"We have also received reports from the proctor," she continued, her voice colder, full of caution. "During the first round of the exam, you did not even have a visible mana core or magical affinity, yet your abilities were enough to match, even surpass, Celeron in the previous test."
The room fell silent. Arzael remained still, his gaze hidden beneath the hood, making those seated above uncomfortable. So of the elites exchanged glances, realizing that what they faced was no ordinary participant.
The gray-haired man added, his voice sharpening,
"In other words... you are abnormal."
Arzael did not respond. He only stared forward, his eyes from beneath the hood making the man in the main seat feel montarily choked. A thin sweat appeared on the man’s temple, though he quickly covered it with a small cough.
He continued, more firmly, "Before the interrogation, we will use Binding Heart. If you agree, every lie that leaves your mouth will cost you your life."
Arzael did not hesitate. "I agree."
As soon as the words left his mouth, the room went silent. So elites sitting nearby exchanged astonished looks, surprised at how quickly the answer had co, without pause or consideration.
A few monts later, a pink-haired elf woman stepped forward. Her hands moved gracefully as she began chanting an ancient spell. Runes glowed faintly, spinning in the air before entering and enveloping Arzael’s chest.
When the spell finished, a new sensation erged. A subtle but pressing tug gripped his chest, as if sothing unseen wrapped around his heart. An ancient, heavy yet controlled magical aura crept into his body, locking his heartbeat.
’I can feel sothing binding my heart...’ Arzael thought.
Seconds stretched. Every breath felt asured, every heartbeat observed. There was no pain, but the full awareness that a single wrong word could an the end made all his senses alert.
The silence seed to swallow all sound, leaving only his own heartbeat echoing in his ears.
The man exhaled, trying to maintain his authority. "Alright... before the questions begin, there is one request."
He leaned forward slightly. "Can you show us your face?"
Arzael lifted his head a little. From beneath the dark hood, his lips curved slightly. "There’s nothing in the rules that says I have to show my face, is there?"
Silence fell again. So of them looked ready to press the matter, but the man finally nodded slowly, giving a stiff smile. "Correct. Then... let’s proceed."
"First question... you have surpassed limits usually only reached by Class-S. Why are you taking this exam? What is your goal?" The man’s voice was calm but pressing, cutting through the room’s silence.
Arzael stared straight ahead. "My goal... is simple. I want to know my own limits. Not for rewards, not for recognition. Only to ensure I survive in this world, and do what I must."
So elites held their breath, exchanging glances, impressed by Arzael’s calm and clear answer. The room’s tension thickened, yet there was unspoken respect from those present.
The man paused briefly, studying him. "Fair enough. Now the second question, you fought without magical affinity, without a mana core. How is your power so high?"
Arzael gave a faint smile beneath the hood. "Power doesn’t always co from magic or innate talent. My strength cos from pain."
’My system... was born from pain, right?’
The man raised an eyebrow, his gaze sharp. "Pain, huh? Alright, third question. If you were free to move in Hero Haven, would you pose a danger to the public or our structures?"
Arzael kept staring straight ahead. "Danger or not... it depends on who stands in my way. I don’t seek chaos, but I also won’t retreat from a threat."
Several elites lowered their heads, the tension shifting into silent acknowledgnt. Arzael’s answers were clear, leaving no room for misinterpretation, entirely logical.
The man’s voice dropped, heavy, cutting through the stillness. "Now the final question... are you a demon?"
The question made everyone present tense. Their gazes focused on Arzael’s eyes, faintly glowing red from beneath the hood, signaling sothing undeniable.
Arzael remained silent, staring straight ahead. In his mind, one thing appeared—
’Race: ???’
Faintly displayed in his system, showing sothing unclear.
’I must be careful with my next words. What if... I really am a demon?’
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