Michael slowly opened his eyes.
For a moment he simply stared ahead, his mind clearing as the quiet atmosphere of the clinic settled around him. Soft sunlight streamed through the window, spreading warm light across the white walls and brightening the sterile room.
He pushed himself up from the bed and stretched slightly.
The room was peaceful — almost too peaceful.
Michael reached for his phone beside the bed and checked the time.
10:45 AM.
"So it's already this late…"
He swung his legs off the bed and stood up.
Today was the day of the inter-rank matches.
Earlier in the morning, the clinic staff had already brought him the uniform he would be wearing. Each patient room had its own small bathroom, something he had quietly appreciated when he first woke up.
After washing up and finishing the final procedures with the nurses, Michael changed into the uniform provided for him.
Once everything was done, he stepped out of the clinic and began heading toward the arena floor.
The match doesn't start until 11:30…
But I should use the extra time to learn about my opponent.
The thought lingered in his mind as he entered the elevator and pressed the button for Floor 31 — the same floor where the duels had taken place yesterday.
As the elevator began moving, Michael glanced down at his body with slight disbelief.
I still can't believe my body already recovered.
He flexed his fingers slightly.
They say the higher your percentage, the faster your body heals. I knew that already… but seeing it happen this fast is amazing.
The elevator stopped.
Ding.
The doors slid open, revealing the long corridor that led toward the arena.
Michael stepped out.
When he entered the arena some time later, the first thing he noticed was the crowd.
There were far more people here than yesterday.
At least twice as many.
But something else caught his attention.
The recruits were clearly divided into two separate groups.
Michael slowed his steps, looking around with slight confusion.
Are they divided by ranks?
He studied the groups carefully.
Yeah… that seems likely.
Then he spotted someone familiar.
Nel was sitting near the side of the arena.
Michael walked over to him with a relaxed smile.
"Yo, how are you doing?"
Nel looked up at him.
"Funny you should ask," he replied. "Considering you knocked me out. I woke up and they told me you were doing worse than me."
He shrugged slightly.
"But everything's good now."
Michael chuckled lightly.
"That's nice. But you got second place too, right? So you're still participating in the inter-rank matches."
Nel nodded.
"Yeah. But I already had my match."
Michael blinked.
"It's only your match left."
Michael's eyes widened slightly.
"Really? Did you win?"
Nel smiled confidently.
"Of course I did."
Then he leaned forward slightly.
"But you should worry about your match next."
Michael raised an eyebrow.
"Why?"
Nel sighed slightly.
"After I beat the guy I faced, the D-Ranks separated themselves from us and started giving us weird looks."
He crossed his arms.
"I think the guy I beat might have been some sort of leader… or someone everyone respected."
He gestured toward the divided groups.
"Either way, that's probably why they split up like that. You were wondering about it, right?"
Michael nodded.
"Yeah. Thanks."
Nel continued.
"The guy I fought was pretty tough in his own way."
He glanced at Michael seriously.
"I'm sure you'll win… but don't let your guard down."
Michael nodded.
"Don't worry. I won't."
Then he asked, "Do you know anything about the opponent I'm facing?"
Nel's expression turned slightly uneasy.
"The top of the D-Ranks… right?"
He looked down briefly before speaking again.
"I might know who it is… but I'm not completely sure."
He looked back at Michael.
"So just be careful."
"Don't focus only on the opponent's weapon. Pay attention to your surroundings too."
Michael nodded calmly.
"Okay. I'll be careful."
"And like you said… I won't lose."
Nel smiled.
"Sure, dude."
Then he suddenly added,
"By the way… your internal energy."
Michael looked at him.
"Did you use it all up before the match yesterday? Or do you just have a small reserve?"
Michael froze for a brief moment.
But he quickly regained his composure.
"Yeah… my internal energy reserve is pretty small."
He shrugged slightly.
"If I use too much, I end up like that."
Internal energy…
Michael thought quietly.
It's the energy required to use celestial energy.
By using internal energy, we influence and control the celestial energy in the atmosphere.
That's how techniques are performed.
Which is why I become weak — or sometimes even pass out — when I use too much celestial energy.
Nel sighed.
"No wonder you collapsed yesterday."
Then he looked at Michael thoughtfully.
"Still… with a small reserve, you were able to beat me."
He shook his head slightly.
"Makes me wonder what would happen if you had a huge reserve and could use as much energy as you wanted."
He chuckled.
"I probably would've lost a lot faster."
Michael nodded politely.
"Yeah… thanks."
Just then, Michael noticed two familiar figures standing near the match podium.
Warren and Greg.
They seemed to be talking while occasionally glancing around — almost like they were waiting for someone.
Michael looked back at Nel.
"Looks like they might be waiting for me."
"I should go."
Nel leaned back in his chair.
"Sure."
"Just make sure you win."
Michael smiled.
"Yeah."
He then walked toward the instructors.
Hopefully I didn't make them wait too long.
I thought I still had some time.
As he approached, both Warren and Greg turned their heads toward him.
Michael smiled politely.
"Good morning, instructors."
Warren nodded.
"Yeah, good morning."
Then he added,
"I'm glad you came now. Turns out we can start the matches earlier than planned."
Michael blinked in surprise.
"Really?"
"What happened?"
Warren rubbed his forehead slightly and sighed.
"To be blunt… it was Smith."
Michael raised an eyebrow.
"Really? What did he do?"
Warren shrugged.
"We were waiting for him to return so he could watch the matches. Since he's technically in charge of this whole thing."
"So we set the schedule so he'd arrive in time."
He sighed again.
"But then he called and told us to proceed without him."
"Apparently his mission suddenly changed."
Michael nodded slowly.
"So he won't make it?"
"Probably not in time," Warren replied.
Michael chuckled lightly.
"I was wondering where he disappeared to. I thought maybe he was slacking off somewhere."
Greg shook his head immediately.
"No chance."
"He's not the type to do that."
He lowered his voice slightly.
"He only said that so the recruits wouldn't panic."
"If people heard that a mission required an S-Rank Guardian suddenly, rumors would spread quickly."
Greg then gestured toward the arena.
"But forget that."
"Your opponent will be here soon."
"Your match is about to begin."
Just then—
Footsteps echoed across the arena floor.
Someone was approaching.
Warren looked toward the sound.
"Oh."
"Your opponent is already here."
Michael turned.
A girl was walking toward them.
Her expression was calm and composed.
Her yellow hair shimmered slightly under the arena lights.
And her yellow eyes held a quiet, focused intensity.
She stopped in front of them.
"Good morning, instructors," the girl said politely.
Greg nodded.
"Oh, you're here."
Then he turned toward Michael.
"Michael… let me introduce you to your opponent."
He gestured toward the girl.
"The top recruit of the D-Ranks…"
"Neon Simzeal."