Chapter 28: Fate
The duels progressed like clockwork.
Veldena Asteris, the queen of ice herself, walked into the arena with elegance and cold fury.
Her opponent barely got to blink before the entire field was sealed in crystalized frost—frozen mid-step.
She turned around without a word. Win.
Mira danced across her battlefield.
Dagger in hand, boots light on the stone, she dismantled her opponent with a flurry of well-tid counters.
One takedown, one pin—clean and precise. Win.
Noel?
She didn't even pull her sword out all the way.
Three movents. Her opponent fainted before they even understood what happened.
Win.
I leaned against the wall, arms crossed.
"Everyone's doing pretty well, huh?"
And then—
[Next match: Sam Avencroft vs. Serenia Elmarelle.]
I blinked.
"...You're kidding ."
I let out a dry chuckle, rubbing the back of my neck.
Of course.
I stepped into the center of the arena.
Across from stood Serenia, poised and calm—her crimson cloak fluttering slightly behind her.
When our eyes t, she smiled faintly.
"Interesting eting you here," she said, voice just loud enough for to hear. "It's almost like we're connected by fate."
I smirked.
"You say that like it's a good thing."
She looked away just for a second—was that a blush?
The headmaster, Caerwyn Eloria, raised her staff from the balcony.
"Begin."
GTP.
[Motor Control Sync: 30%. Pushing beyond this may damage your body.]
Yeah yeah. I'm not going full beast-mode again. Not unless I want my bones turned into soup.
Serenia lunged forward—rapier flashing like silver lightning.
I ducked to the side, spun my scythe with a reverse grip, and parried.
The blades clanged—a ripple of energy spreading from the impact.
She was faster than last ti.
Her strikes ca in sharp bursts, elegant and clean. She moved like a dancer, each thrust aid to exploit an opening.
But I had openings no more.
With GTP's support, my movents flowed like water—evading, parrying, retaliating.
My scythe cut wide arcs. She dodged each one, dancing just at the edge of danger.
"You've improved," I muttered between strikes.
"So have you," she replied, panting slightly. "That scythe suits you."
"I know. Looks cool, doesn't it?"
She tried to circle around—I blocked with the polearm and twisted, catching her blade under the hook of my scythe.
With a spin, I disard her and pressed the bladed edge against her collarbone.
Her rapier clattered to the ground.
She looked up at .
"...Well played."
The crowd exploded in cheers.
"Sam Avencroft—pass," Caerwyn announced. "Serenia Elmarelle—pass. You have demonstrated sufficient skill and combat control."
I lowered my scythe and extended a hand.
Serenia hesitated... then smiled and took it.
Her hand was warm.
"...Fate, huh?" I said quietly.
She chuckled.
"Maybe."
* * *
he remaining stages were... honestly?Pretty chill.
Stage 3 was a raw mana capacity check.Pass the threshold—you move on. I had GTP in my brain and a whole temple's worth of mana in my veins. Easy.
Stage 4 was a mazeplex for anyone else. But I had a literal hyperintelligent satellite in my head. GTP had us out in five minutes.
Stage 5? Monster subjugation.It was supposed to test combat ability and coordination, but compared to surviving the jungle war? This was nothing.
And the rest?
Endurance test. Magic formation analysis. Barrier decoding.All handled smoothly with a mix of GTP-assisted intuition and dumb luck (okay, maybe 90% GTP, 10% ).
And now...
Only 200 applicants remained.
From the thousands who had taken the written exam...From the tens of thousands who dread of entering the most prestigious magic academy in the empire...
We were all that was left.
We stood on a massive circular platform suspended above the clouds.
The wind was calm. The sky shimred with golden light.
There was no ground. No walls. Only magic.
Then—
A soft hum filled the air.
FWOOM.
From above descended a radiant portal of ancient magic.
And through it, she arrived.
Headmaster Caerwyn Eloria.
Her long white cloak fluttered like light itself, and the air around her shimred with power.
She landed at the center of the arena, her voice projecting effortlessly across the entire skyborne platform.
"Congratulations."
Her golden eyes passed over all of us—sharp, serene, and commanding.
"You have proven your strength, your will, and your talent."
"But one final trial remains."
The arena glowed beneath our feet—runes ancient and unfamiliar forming a massive circle.
Her next words chilled the air itself.
"Stage Ten: Dreamscape of Truth."
The crowd of applicants fell silent.
"You will each be transported into a personal dreamscape."
"A realm constructed by your own subconscious—shaped by your fears, your desires, your regrets, and your truths."
"There, you will face the truest version of yourself."
"If you break... you fail."
"If you run... you fail."
"Only those who face themselves and rise again... will be chosen."
I stared at the glyphs under my boots.
Dreamscape?
...So it ends not with a sword swing or a fireball...
But a mirror.
The headmaster raised her hand.
"Let it begin."
And the world—
Shattered into light.
* * *
Light swallowed everything.
Then silence.
No ground. No sky.
Just... nothing.
"...GTP?" I called out into the void.
Nothing.
"...Oi. GTP? Are you there?"
No response.
The silence pressed on like an ocean. Not a sound, not a flicker of thought.
I turned slowly, tension creeping up my spine.
There—standing with arms crossed, hood up, and an annoyed frown—
Was .
Not the now.
The old one.
Part-ti worker. Burnt out student. The guy who spent nights binging ani and waking up with nothing to show for it.
He scoffed. "You look ridiculous."
"...What?"
"That outfit. That scythe. That smug look you always have now."
He stepped closer.
"You think you're so kind of chosen one now?"
I said nothing.
"Let guess," he mocked, "you think just because so AI is feeding you magic and swordplay that you're special?"
I opened my mouth.
"Don't bother," a voice interrupted.
I turned.
Noel stood a few feet away. Not the real Noel—this one's face was blank. Empty eyes. Cold.
"Everything you've done," she said, "it's all because of soone else. You call the shots, but you don't take the hits."
Another voice.
"Where were you when the jungle temple was attacked?" Serenia said, stepping through the fog.
"You slept. While we fought."
"I nearly died."
"I held our people together."
"You?"
"You just showed up afterward and claid the credit."
I clenched my fists. "I didn't ask—"
"You never ask," said another voice.
Mira now. Her smile gone. Expression flat.
"You just expect us to follow."
"You talk big. You play genius. But we're the ones risking everything out there while you 'calculate the next move.'"
And behind her—Veldena.
Arms behind her back. Voice icy.
"You act like you understand strategy and strength. But your foundation is fake."
"You rely on knowledge from another world. Power that doesn't belong to you."
"You've built a kingdom on borrowed thoughts."
I looked around.
All of them now surrounded .
Even Lord Haven stepped forward, face grim.
"I supported you because I believed in your vision," he said. "But now I wonder..."
"Are you leading us to sothing greater?"
"Or are you just a liar with a silver tongue?"
They were everywhere now.
Echoes of the people I'd t. Followed . Trusted .
All looking at like I was nothing.
And worst of all?
They sounded like the voices already in my head.
"You're just faking it."
"You got lucky."
"You're not strong."
"You don't deserve this."
"YOU'RE NOT HIM."
I lowered my head.
The air felt heavy.
My legs... weak.
My heart thudded in my chest like a war drum.
I wanted to scream. To deny it.
But I couldn't.
Because...
A part of —
A deep, ugly part—
Believed every word.
The words crushed .
Every voice. Every accusation.
They echoed in my chest like hamrs against glass.
You're nothing.
You're fake.
You're just pretending.
The I used to be stepped forward.
"No one would follow you if they knew what you really were."
Noel's gaze was hollow.
"You saved ? Please. You used ."
Serenia's voice rang sharp.
"You're not a leader. You're just scared."
Mira, Veldena, Lord Haven—every voice a dagger.
Every face a judgnt.
My fists trembled.
My throat tightened.
Was it true?
Was I really just a coward behind a mask?
Just a lucky fool with a voice in his head?
Just a...
"No."
The voices stopped.
Just like that.
I looked up.
And repeated it.
"No."
The fog rippled.
"I'm not the strongest," I said, breathing heavy. "I'm not perfect. Hell, I'm barely even qualified."
My gaze cut through the illusions.
"But I survived. I fought. I chose."
"And even if all of this started because I got lucky—everything after that? That was ."
"I made it real."
"I made it mine."
The fake Noel stared at .
"You think that's enough?"
I took a breath.
"No," I said.
"But I'll keep going anyway."
The world cracked.
Light surged beneath my feet.
The dreamscape shattered—
And I opened my eyes.
Gasp—!
I shot upright.
Chest heaving. Face damp with sweat.
Back in the real world.
The arena.
The final stage.
The clouds above.
People were still waking up. So crying. So pale. So trembling.
I wasn't.
I just sat there, steady.
"...Heh."
I looked up at the sky.
"Nice try."
Reviews
All reviews (0)