The young man with black hair stepped forward with calm confidence.
His worn collar shifted as he moved, loosening just enough to reveal a black tattoo on the side of his neck. It was shaped like the letter "R," but the symbol carried a strange sharpness that made it look less like writing and more like a mark burned into his skin for a purpose.
I narrowed my eyes.
My hand moved almost by reflex, smoothing the cuff of my white shirt as I studied him. On the surface, I kept my expression composed. A leader could not afford to show uncertainty in front of men who had only just begun to accept his authority.
But behind that calm mask, I immediately activated God Eye's Level 3.
A transparent panel flickered into existence before my sight. Thin lines of light spread across my vision, locking onto the young man's body and attempting to gather information. I expected the usual flow of status details to appear—name, stats, potential, talent. Even if the information was impressive, I should have been able to read it.
Instead, what appeared in the system panel made my breath catch in my throat.
[Name: ??]
[Stats: ?? / ?? / ?? / ??]
[Potential: ??]
[Talent: ??]
What...?
Every part of his status was covered by question marks.
For a brief moment, the noise of the field seemed to fade into the distance. The former slaves, the mercenaries, the cold wind moving across the open ground—all of it became faint compared to the panel hanging before my eyes.
This made no sense.
Until now, God Eye's Level 3 had never failed me like this. Even Arad, a man with SSS potential, could be read clearly by the system. His status had been overwhelming, but it had still been visible. If the system could not pierce through this man's information, there was only one explanation dangerous enough to make cold sweat begin to form along my back.
This man was far beyond me.
He might even be beyond Arad.
My thoughts moved quickly. Is he an assassin sent by Baron Leonard? Did that rat send someone after me because I destroyed his reputation? Or is this man from another force entirely? Something bigger?
The possibilities flashed through my mind one after another, each worse than the last. I could not confirm anything. I could not read his status, could not measure his strength, and could not tell what kind of talent he possessed. Standing before me was a question mark wearing a human face.
Even so, I could not step back.
Not here. Not in front of everyone.
"Very well," I said, letting my voice echo calmly across the training field. "You will duel to decide who is worthy of command."
My tone betrayed nothing. It was firm, steady, and controlled. The kind of voice people expected from a ruler who had already calculated the outcome.
Inside, my instincts were screaming at me to run.
Arad began to step toward the center of the field, but before he could move too far, I approached him. I kept my posture natural, as if I were simply giving a final instruction. Then I leaned closer and spoke in a voice low enough that only he could hear.
"Arad, be careful. There is something very wrong with this man. Do not underestimate him for even a second."
For the first time in a while, confusion flickered across Arad's face.
He knew me well enough by now to understand that I did not give warnings without reason. His eyes shifted toward the black-haired young man, and the relaxed air around his shoulders disappeared. In its place came the quiet sharpness of a veteran from Westhound, a man who had survived by trusting danger before it fully revealed itself.
Arad gave a small nod.
"I understand, Lord."
Around us, the people in the field quickly formed a wide circle. Former slaves shuffled back with nervous steps, while the Rank E mercenaries watched with the eager curiosity of men who enjoyed violence as long as they were not the ones bleeding. Murmurs spread through the crowd, low and restless, carried by the evening wind.
Hana returned from the direction of the warehouse at that moment. Her dark eyes narrowed when she saw the crowd gathering, and she hurried closer, her skirt brushing against the dirt.
"What is happening here, Fragha?" she asked quietly.
I did not have time to answer.
The mysterious young man stood opposite Arad with one hand hanging loosely by his side. He looked far too relaxed. There was no tension in his shoulders, no caution in his stance, no excitement in his eyes. He did not look like a man preparing for a duel.
He looked like someone waiting for an errand to finish.
Then he raised his right hand.
A small black sphere appeared above his palm.
It was only the size of a marble at first, spinning in place with terrifying speed. The air around it distorted, and a faint humming sound spread through the field.
Vrrrrr...
My pupils tightened.
In the next instant, the black sphere burst outward.
The darkness expanded at an impossible speed, swallowing the air above us and stretching into a massive dome. The field, the people, the ground beneath our feet—everything was enclosed within it before anyone could react. A giant black barrier rose around Constantia's training ground, cutting us off from the outside world.
"[Silent Domain]," the young man said flatly.
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
Darkness surrounded us from every side. It was not complete blindness, but the light inside the dome became dim and unnatural, as if the sun itself had been pushed far away. The barrier wall pulsed faintly, its surface shifting like black water mixed with lightning.
A mercenary near the edge panicked and reached out to touch it.
"Hey, what is this thing—"
Crack!
A violent current snapped across his body.
The man screamed and was thrown backward, crashing into the dirt with a heavy thud. Another mercenary tried to help him, but the sight of black sparks crawling along the fallen man's sleeve made him freeze halfway.
Screams erupted across the field.
"We're trapped!"
"Someone break it!"
"Help me! Please, save me!"
The former slaves shrank together in terror. Some covered their heads. Others stumbled back, only to remember that there was nowhere to run. The mercenaries who had been so eager to watch a duel moments ago now looked pale, their hands trembling near useless weapons.
We were not merely trapped inside the training field.
We had been locked inside a deadly cage created by one person.
"Calm yourselves!" Arad roared.
His voice cut through the chaos like a blade. The panic did not vanish, but it staggered. Several people turned toward him, clinging to the force in his tone.
I saw his dedication in that instant. Even after hearing my warning, even after seeing power none of us had expected, Arad did not step back. He placed himself between the mysterious man and the others without hesitation.
I inhaled slowly and raised my voice.
"Everyone, move closer! Those who cannot fight, stand behind us!"
The order spread through the crowd. Feet scraped against the ground as people rushed to obey. The former slaves moved first, then the weaker workers and frightened mercenaries. They gathered behind Arad and me in a messy cluster, breathing hard, their eyes fixed on the black-haired man.
Hana was different.
Instead of retreating, she stepped to my side. Her face was pale, but her gaze remained firm. A faint trace of magic gathered around her fingers, unsteady but real. She was afraid. Anyone would be. Yet she forced herself to stand there anyway.
Oderick tried to move forward as well, his old face tense with determination, but Hana immediately stretched out her arm and blocked him.
"Grandfather, stay back," she said, her voice tight.
"Hana—"
"Please."
Oderick stopped.
For a moment, the old man looked at her. Then his jaw clenched, and he stepped back behind the line of people, frustration and worry written across his face.
The black-haired man watched all of it.
Then his lips curled.
"Kekeke... bahahaha!"
His laughter rang beneath the dome, loud and mocking. It bounced off the black walls and returned to us distorted, making the entire space feel even smaller. Several people flinched at the sound.
"So the rats gather together so I can kill them more easily," he said, his eyes sweeping over the crowd behind me. "Good. You are smarter rats than I expected."
A cold weight settled in my chest.
I stepped forward half a pace, keeping my shoulders straight and my face controlled.
"Silence," I said. "Who sent you?"
The young man tilted his head slightly.
"I already knew there was something wrong with you," I continued, my voice low and sharp. "You were waiting for the right moment to reveal yourself."
He did not deny it.
Instead, he looked at me with amusement, as if my question entertained him more than it threatened him. The black mark on his neck seemed even darker beneath the dim light of the Silent Domain.
"Try guessing," he said casually.
Then he grinned.