The principal exhaled slowly, as if even he needed to steady himself before announcing the final nas.
"Now," he began, his voice carrying weight, "onto the final two."
A ripple of anticipation surged through the crowd. The tension in the air thickened with every passing second.
"In second place," he declared, "with an astounding 2,000 points... Mr. Leon Stroud."
A portal flared open with a gentle shimr. Unlike the thunderous entrances before, this one felt serene—almost reverent.
And then, he stepped through.
Leon Stroud.
An ethereal young man with flowing white hair and pale, almost luminescent eyes to match.
His skin seed untouched by hardship, and his uniform remained spotless, unwrinkled, as though the entire ordeal had never touched him.
He looked more like a prince from a divine painting than a survivor of a monster zone.
A strange stillness followed his arrival.
The audience didn’t scream or cheer. They simply stared—srized, enchanted, bathing silently in the surreal beauty of the man who stood before them.
The very air around him seed to shimr faintly with charm.
But not everyone was impressed.
Mia, standing with the heroines near the front, narrowed her eyes.
She scoffed quietly and clicked her tongue in open distaste, inwardly. "Tch. This guy."
He was the reason why her husband had cheated on her. Idolizing this guy.
She would never like this guy. NEVER.
Back on stage, the principal stepped toward Leon with a proud smile.
"Congratulations, Mr. Stroud. You’ve done exceptionally well—no one has ever broken 2,000 points in the physical exam before you."
Leon gave a small, sheepish bow. "Honestly, I’m surprised myself..."
Then he tilted his head with a faint, playful smirk. "Though I do wonder... why wasn’t I ranked first?"
The crowd laughed lightly. Even the principal chuckled with a glimr of affection in his eyes.
"Well, well," he said, patting Leon’s head with almost paternal fondness, "you would’ve claid the top spot... if your opponent hadn’t been that monster."
Leon raised a curious brow, but said nothing more. He seed amused by the mystery, like soone waiting for a secret to be revealed at just the right mont.
The principal gestured. "Go stand with the others."
Leon complied smoothly, his steps calm, almost graceful as he took his place beside Zyon and the others.
Yet his face retained that curious, lingering smile, as though he already suspected the identity of the one who had surpassed him.
Then the principal’s expression shifted.
Gone was the warmth, the playfulness.
He straightened his back, his voice now solemn and powerful.
"And now... onto the main event."
A tense silence wrapped the auditorium.
"This year, we have a rank one that defies logic, expectation, and every record in the academy’s history."
He paused to let the gravity settle in.
"A monstrous examinee," he continued, "whose performance made feel bad for the monsters."
The audience held their breath.
"With a history-shattering score of 10,500 points..."
Gasps erupted like waves crashing on the rocks.
Then silence.
Not stunned silence, but horrified silence.
The previous record? A re 900.
Even Leon’s 2,000 had been beyond comprehension.
But 10,500?
It was a number that didn’t make sense. A number that should not exist. That couldn’t.
The faces in the crowd turned pale, eyes wide, mouths agape. Even the teachers in the VIP balcony looked shaken.
The heroine group froze, expressions drained of color. Alia clutched her skirt tightly. Evelyn swallowed hard. Celeste blinked rapidly, as though trying to convince herself she’d heard wrong.
Even Verena, stoic and silent, stared at the stage, her golden eyes slightly widened.
And Mia—
Her blood ran cold.
She stared at the swirling portal forming before them, a knot twisting in her chest.
’Who could it be?’
The portal cracked open—and out staggered a figure.
A collective, horrified gasp swept through the stands.
He erged like a specter from a war zone.
Blood soaked his form, dried and fresh in equal asure. His uniform was in tatters, barely clinging to his battered fra.
Chunks of flesh were missing from his arms and legs, ragged and torn. His torso was flayed in places, exposing muscle and bone beneath the crimson ss.
Yet, his posture was upright.
And his body—despite the damage—was nothing short of divine. A chiseled, sculpted physique built from months of tornt and training.
But more terrifying than his wounds... was his face.
His athyst hair hung ssily over emotionless, sharp eyes that glowed faintly under the crystal lights.
Cassius Lancaster.
The auditorium remained frozen.
Not a cheer.
Not a breath.
The principal smiled bitterly, though even he looked faintly shaken. "That," he said, gesturing, "is what the monster zones actually do to you."
But his amusent wasn’t shared by the man in question.
Cassius stood there, still, silent.
There was no pride in his stance.
No joy in his victory.
Only emptiness.
His gaze swept across the crowd—but saw nothing.
He looked like a statue carved from anguish and pain, hollowed out on the inside.
And for Mia, that was the breaking point.
Her hands flew to her mouth, tears instantly brimming in her eyes.
"That’s— That’s not—" she choked.
Then she ran.
Ignoring the stares, the whispers, the stunned silence.
She climbed onto the stage, rushing across it with trembling legs.
And when she reached him—her brother—she embraced him as carefully as she could, as though holding sothing irreparably broken.
"Cassius..." she whispered. "What happened to you...?"
He didn’t answer.
Didn’t even blink.
His body was there—but it felt like his soul was still sowhere in that accursed zone.
Cassius didn’t respond. Not a word. Not a twitch.
His arms hung limp at his sides, unmoving even as Mia trembled against him.
It was like hugging a corpse.
No warmth.
No familiarity.
Only cold, bloodied flesh and a haunting silence that pierced deeper than any scream.
Mia’s voice cracked as she pulled back, holding his face in her trembling hands. "Look at , Cassius. Please. Say sothing. Anything..."
He blinked slowly, like soone coming up from deep water. His eyes moved—not to her, not to the crowd—but down to the blood caking his fingertips.
His gaze lingered at his bloodied hands, a flicker of glint went through his eyes.
Mia froze.
The way he was acting was really making her anxious. She even doubted for a second that maybe... just maybe for so accursed reason previous Cassius had returned.
The stage remained silent.
Not even the principal dared to interrupt.
Cassius stepped forward, slipping gently from Mia’s grasp.
He walked toward the edge of the platform, his movent sluggish but precise, like a man carrying invisible chains.
The crowd instinctively leaned back. Even the boldest nobles in the front row recoiled at his approach.
There was sothing primal about him now—like a predator that had clawed its way out of death and hadn’t yet rembered how to be human.
The principal cleared his throat and stepped in. "Mr. Lancaster, if you’d—"
But Cassius turned to him with those cold, athyst eyes, and even he fell silent.
It wasn’t rebellion. It wasn’t arrogance.
It was emptiness.
Then finally he uttered sothing.
"I followed the rules," Cassius murmured. "I fought in the designated zones. Endured the trials."
His gaze swept the stunned crowd.
"And I won. Didn’t I?"
The principal nodded cautiously. "You did. You won by a landslide."
"Then where’s the applause?" Cassius asked, almost rhetorically. "Where’s the praise?"
Leon flinched slightly, his amused expression vanishing.
Cassius looked up toward the crystal boards, now lit with his image and score in radiant gold.
Then he smiled.
It was not a pleasant smile.
It was also not his signature maniac smile. It felt hollow.
He said softly. "Ten thousand points...."
His hand drifted toward the jagged wound along his side.
The principal’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully, but he said nothing.
Cassius exhaled slowly and finally walked to take his place at the end of the lineup, beside Leon.
But as he passed, Leon tilted his head, studying him carefully.
"You’re... different," Leon said softly, not mockingly, but with a strange glimr in his eyes. "Weren’t you a renowned pacifist?."
Cassius didn’t look at him. "Was... it’s past now."
Then he stood at the edge, straight-backed, arms at his sides, bleeding and silent.
The principal stepped forward again, regaining so of his composure.
"Well," he said, trying to summon so grandeur into his tone, "with that, we conclude the presentation of our top physical examinees."
Still, no applause ca.
Just stunned silence and terrified awe.
The principal sighed. "You may all take your seats for the next phase of orientation. Healers will tend to our top scorer—though I’d suggest approaching with caution."
The stage slowly cleared.
Emris, Zyon, and even Leon descended the platform, casting lingering glances at Cassius as they went.
The heroines also casted their eyes upon him. But decided against taking any action.
They would wait until he healed.
But unlike them Art didn’t hesitate. He imdiately went up to Cassius, and gave him a small pat on the shoulder.
Cassius didn’t respond. Just flinched.
"Did it hurt, Cass? Are you okay?" Art inquired.
But Cassius wasn’t responding to anything, his eyes were there but also not.
Art didn’t know what to say. He was usually the one who got pampered and did tantrums. He didn’t know how to respond in the situation.
After waiting for a long while, he eventually accepted his defeat and went down. "Go get healed first.... You aren’t looking cool you bastard."
This ti there was a response. Cassius’ eyes twitched silently.
Mia hesitated at his side.
"Cassius," she whispered again, "it’s . It’s Mia. Your sister. You’re safe now, okay? You’re not in there anymore."
For a long mont, he didn’t react.
But just before she gave up, Cassius turned to her.
And for the first ti, she saw it—a flicker of warmth behind the cold.
"...Thanks," he muttered hoarsely. "For running to ."
Mia’s breath caught in her throat. She nodded quickly, wiping her eyes.
"Always."
And together, they left the stage.
Behind them, the crowd remained seated—but no one would forget what they’d witnessed today.
A perfect score in academics.
A monster score in the physicals.
They all felt that this year was going to be maddening.
And the Academy would never be the sa.
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