Xavier POV
Its crooked eyes stared at Xavier with pure contempt.
But it did not move.
It simply stood there, as though waiting for Xavier to reveal his final card.
'So be it.'
What did it mean to be a Lightbearer?
Why was there only ever one in each generation, and never another?
They were the last hope when all hope seemed lost.
The final ember that reignited a dying fire.
The first ray of dawn at the end of a merciless night.
Then the arena changed.
Streams of blue mana began to streak through the air.
At first, only a few.
Then hundreds.
Then thousands.
They came from every direction, rushing across the arena as though they had finally found the one they had been searching for.
As though they had found their saviour.
Xavier's eyes were closed.
His body slowly rose from the ground.
Then light bloomed from his heart.
Everyone heard it.
Every single beat.
Each heartbeat sent a pulse of light rippling outward, washing across the arena and touching all who stood within it.
The light was warm.
Gentle.
Comforting.
It felt safe.
As though no matter what stood before them, everything would be alright so long as that light remained.
Then Xavier spoke.
And his voice did not merely ring through the arena—
it echoed through their souls.
"First Form."
"The Guiding Star."
The moment the words left his lips, the world seemed to respond.
Rays of light burst outward—
yet instead of scattering, they curved.
Light itself bent towards him.
It coiled around him in a perfect cocoon, wrapping around every limb, every strand of hair, every inch of his being as though it had always belonged there.
Xavier was clad in light.
It was vast, pure, and endless, as though a piece of the heavens had descended into the arena itself. The white around him looked blank at first glance, but there was nothing cold about it, nothing hollow or empty.
It was warm.
Comforting.
Hope, given form.
His hair turned white as snow, swaying softly despite the still air.
Then Xavier opened his eyes.
They should have been blinding.
Piercing.
Impossible to face.
But they were not.
His white pupils were soft instead, gentle in a way that made no sense on a battlefield. There was no cruelty in them, no arrogance, no anger.
Only quiet reassurance.
As though everything before him was something precious.
Something he would protect.
He looked at the beast.
Then he spoke a single word.
"Come."
The beast smiled.
Then it vanished.
Xavier did not move.
And there it was—
a dark wooden blade already thrusting towards his heart.
The students' eyes widened in panic.
But it was all for naught.
Light bent.
Rays that should have travelled straight curved sharply towards Xavier, gathering before him in an instant.
Just before the blade could pierce his chest, a solid wall of white caught it.
Xavier's gaze did not waver.
"Stay still for me."
He clenched his fist and drove it into the beast's face.
A deafening crash thundered across the arena.
"Fear is useless with me here."
His heart pulsed.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
Each beat sent waves of warm light rippling across the arena, washing over the students like a tide.
Their wounds eased.
Their trembling slowed.
The pressure crushing their hearts loosened, if only a little.
It did not truly make them safe.
They all knew that.
And yet, within Xavier's light, they could not help but believe they would live.
That belief alone steadied their feet.
That warmth alone anchored their souls.
Then the dust parted.
The beast's head had been half-splattered apart.
But before their eyes, dark flesh and twisted wood crawled back into place, weaving together in a grotesque mockery of healing.
Xavier narrowed his eyes.
'I need to end this quickly.'
He raised one hand.
Light answered.
Beams of white shot down from above.
The beast tried to dodge—
but Xavier's light did not move as ordinary light should.
It curved.
It chased.
It hunted.
The creature twisted away as dark roots surged upward, forming a thick barrier before it.
The beams pierced through it like a hot blade through wax.
They slammed into the beast and sent it flying once more.
There would be no escape now.
Xavier's light had already found it.
Marked it.
The students watched with widening eyes, but Xavier knew the truth.
Nobody was winning.
Not yet.
There was still no fear on the monster's face.
'Then I'll take it head-on.'
'Raystep.'
It was not teleportation.
But to eyes as weak as theirs, it may as well have been.
A streak of white flashed across the arena, leaving drifting fragments of light in its wake.
Then Xavier was there.
His kick crashed into the beast's ribs.
It blocked.
Its fist came for his face—
and Xavier did not even try to defend.
The light did it for him.
A curved shield formed on its own, catching the blow as Xavier drove his fists into the creature again and again.
Every clash sent rings of light bursting outward.
Every impact made the roots beneath them shudder.
To the students, Xavier looked dominant.
Untouchable.
But it was not a battle of superiority.
It was a battle of endurance.
A battle of who would break first.
Then the beast changed its target.
Its arm jerked toward the students, firing a shard of black wood that burst apart mid-flight into a storm of splinters.
No one moved in time.
A wall of light rose before them and blocked everything.
A wave of relief swept through the stands.
Somewhere behind them, a trembling voice began a chant.
Then another joined.
And another.
At first, they called his name.
Then the title.
Then both.
"Xavier!"
"Lightbearer!"
"Xavier!"
"Lightbearer!"
The clash continued.
More stakes shot towards them.
More barriers of light rose to meet them.
Again and again.
It was their wall.
Their last hope.
Then it changed.
For the first time—
Xavier was hit.
His light had spread too thin.
A dark blade slipped through his defence and pierced beneath his lower ribs.
A gasp tore through the crowd.
'Raystep.'
He shot backward in a burst of white.
The wound began to heal, but not fully.
Not instantly.
And for the first time, the students noticed it.
His light was dimmer.
Threads of azure had begun to return to his hair.
The truth struck them all at once.
The light shielding them—
the light comforting them—
the light keeping them alive—
was his.
He was spending himself on them.
And they were too weak to do anything but watch.
The beast saw its chance and lunged again, crashing down on Xavier with a frenzy of blades and splintering wood.
At the same time, a hail of sharpened branches rained toward the students.
The barrier before them held firm.
Unshaken.
Even now, even while being driven back, Xavier still protected them first.
The longer the battle stretched on, the softer his radiance became.
Less blinding.
Less absolute.
'Raystep.'
He escaped the barrage once more.
This time, the students saw only his back.
Broad.
Straight.
Unbelievably reliable.
His breaths had grown shallow.
His body trembled faintly.
But his posture never bent.
"You've got this, Xavier!"
At the shout of his name, he glanced back.
One eye was blue.
The other was still white.
A thin trail of blood ran from the corner of his mouth.
And yet—
he smiled.
Calmly.
Softly.
As though he were the one reassuring them.
The cheers grew louder.
Some of them were crying now.
Some shouted with cracked voices.
Some sobbed between chants.
But none of them stopped.
'Thank you, guys.'
Xavier turned back toward the beast.
His light flared once more.
Not as brilliantly as before—
but still bright enough to force the darkness back.
They saw it then.
His resolve.
His refusal to fall.
Luke watched with clenched teeth.
Kyle watched in silence.
And beside them, Lyra stared at Xavier's back with blank, unreadable eyes.
Unlike the others, her thoughts had drifted elsewhere.
Not because Xavier's resolve was lacking—
but because something about the scale of it had forced an old question to the surface.
'How long would it take Iori to deal with this?'
Then, unbidden, another face rose in her mind.
The boy with the threads.
The one who had shut a rift.
'...And Aeron?'
Her gaze lingered for only a moment before returning to Xavier.
Xavier unleashed dozens more beams, tearing chunks from the beast's body and forcing it back step by step.
But his chest rose harder now.
His limbs felt heavier.
His vision blurred at the edges.
'I'm nearly out.'
The beast regenerated again.
Wood and flesh stitched back together.
Its smile returned.
Xavier lowered his stance.
'Then this ends now.'
He brought both hands forward, cupping them together as though holding an invisible sphere.
Light began to gather between his palms.
Then more.
And more.
The arcs of white compressed violently, twisting inward until the air itself screamed.
The radiance coating his body started to peel away, drawn into the growing sphere.
His mantle thinned.
His hair began to lose its white.
Azure returned strand by strand.
His body shook from the strain.
His knees threatened to buckle.
Blood dripped from his lips.
But the light kept gathering.
The students fell silent.
Even the beast hesitated.
What rested in Xavier's hands no longer looked like an attack.
It looked like sunrise forced into a single point.
A small sun.
A dying star.
The last warmth before collapse.
Xavier's fingers trembled around it.
His voice came out hoarse.
Yet steady.
"Last Light."
The sphere shrank once—
compressing so far that the arena itself dimmed, as though all brightness had been stolen into his hands.
Then Xavier looked up.
His gaze met the beast's twisted smile.
And for the first time—
the monster's expression faltered.
"Daybreak."
He thrust his hands forward.
The light did not explode.
It bloomed.
A single pillar of white-gold radiance erupted across the arena, vast and silent for one impossible instant, as though the world itself had stopped to watch dawn arrive.
Then sound followed.
A roar like the sky splitting apart.
The beam swallowed everything in its path.
Dark roots.
Wooden walls.
Regenerating flesh.
All of it was washed away beneath that final, merciless sunrise.
The beast did not scream.
It simply vanished into the light.
And the entire arena shone as bright as morning.
The light vanished.
And Xavier fell.
The moment his body tilted forward, Luke shot from the side.
He moved so fast that most of the students only saw the aftermath—a blur crossing the arena, then Xavier caught in his arms before he could strike the ruined floor.
Luke steadied him with both hands, his jaw clenched so tightly it looked painful.
"Idiot," he muttered.
There was no bite in it.
Only strain. Only self-directed contempt.
'And I called myself his brother.'
'What kind of brother can do nothing but watch?'
Xavier's head lolled slightly against him. His white hair had already faded back to blue, though parts of it were still streaked pale from the remnants of the form. Blood ran from the corner of his mouth, and his breaths came weak and thin.
He looked like someone who had burned through everything and still forced victory into existence.
Then warmth spread through the arena.
Scarlett stepped forward, her flames blooming around her in a wave of red—
yet for the first time, no one felt heat that threatened to burn.
The fire that spilled from her hands was gentle.
Soft.
It rolled across the shattered ground and gathered beneath Luke's feet, weaving itself into a bed of crimson flame so delicate it looked almost unreal.
Luke lowered Xavier onto it with surprising care.
Scarlett knelt beside him, her usual sharp expression nowhere to be seen.
Her flames curled around Xavier's body like a blanket, easing the cold that came after spent mana and torn flesh.
For once, her fire did not destroy.
It comforted.
And for once, no one in the arena could find words.
The cheers died in their throats.
The celebration never came.
Because as they looked at Xavier lying there, protected now by the same warmth he had once given them, one truth settled into every heart present.
He had not stood before that monster because he believed he could not lose.
He had stood there because everyone else would have died if he did not.
The arena fell silent.
Not from fear this time.
But from something deeper.
Something heavier.
Respect.
A portal opened in the arena.
The dungeon had been cleared.
But no one took a step toward it.
Not one of them would leave before the Lightbearer.
.
.
Aeron POV
'Where is it?'
Aeron rummaged through the piles of artefacts, tossing aside broken relics and half-rotted materials as he searched.
Since Iori had come along and been so helpful, Aeron figured he should at least give him something.
Curled up off to the side, Iori spoke without opening his eyes.
"Why don't we just take everything?"
"We should leave some things for the academy," Aeron replied. "Otherwise, it might get suspicious."
Then his hand stopped.
'Found it.'
Iori had been about to drift off again, but Aeron's voice pulled him back.
"Here. Take this."
He held up a black book.
Even its pages were made from some kind of dark leather. The cover was worn, and several pages had clearly been torn out long ago.
Only one skill remained inside.
"There's an ability in here you can learn, Iori."
"Stillspace."
Iori's eyes locked onto the book.
Aeron blinked.
"Yes… looks like you already know what it does."
Iori gave a slight nod but did not move from where he sat. He simply kept staring at it, almost as though he were waiting for permission.
'What's up with him?'
Aeron shook his head, then tossed the book into the rift.
"It's yours. Calm down."
Iori caught it without a word.
"Let's grab a few more corpses to sell, then we can leave."
Iori nodded.
"Can you open a portal straight outside?" Aeron asked.
"No. The dungeon is an independent space. I haven't learned how to cross between separate spaces yet."
Aeron clicked his tongue.
"Looks like we'll have to sneak out. The portal won't close until everyone leaves. Let's just blend in with the students."
Iori looked toward the distance.
"They're leaving now."
"Then let's go."
A black rift tore open.
'Fortune is finally coming my way.'
Aeron stepped through, already thinking about his bright future.
.
.
.
Eliza POV
Eliza's eyes narrowed as she watched the live replay recorded from the students' devices.
'They forced an outbreak just to push the dungeon into an upgrade.'
'An intelligible dungeon...'
It had the Veiled Archive written all over it.
They had destabilised the dungeon while preventing anyone above D-rank from entering. In that moment, even as an S-rank, Eliza had been rendered useless.
All she could do was watch.
And hope her students survived.
Halfway through the recording, she had felt it—
the moment the dungeon rose to B-rank.
Her heart had nearly stopped.
But now, seeing the battle with her own eyes, even Eliza could not hide her shock.
The Lightbearer had fought a B-rank existence while still in D-rank.
Even if the creature had not fully stabilised after the forced upgrade, that did not change the absurdity of what Xavier had done.
He had held the line.
And he had won.
Though not without cost.
Xavier was currently unconscious, his body pushed far beyond simple exhaustion. That final attack had taken more from him than it should have. A portion of his mana core had been consumed in the process, forcing his rank down to D-.
Still, she was certain he would recover quickly. An SS+ talent was not so fragile.
Even so, the price he had paid made her expression darken.
Then her gaze shifted toward the rest of the class.
And despite everything, Eliza found herself impressed.
Especially by Xavier and Luke.
Time and time again, the two of them had placed themselves between danger and their classmates without hesitation.
Then there was Kyle.
Her eyes hardened.
'A supremacist.'
Eliza watched the replay in silence, her expression growing colder with every passing second.
After the dungeon had been cleared, the staff entered to examine what remained.
'A Threadmoth nest.'
Empty.
The two rank-ups alone would have generated enough mana to hatch one.
They had managed to kill two birds with one stone.
The Veiled Archive had found a nest valuable enough to exploit, then turned it into a stage.
A testing ground.
Her gaze moved across the replay, catching every moment of desperation—every hidden technique dragged into the light, every instinctive choice made at the edge of death, every talent revealed when survival became the only thing that mattered.
Then her eyes narrowed.
'So that was your goal.'
They had not wanted casualties alone.
They had wanted information.
To corner gifted students and force them to reveal every card they possessed.
The Threadmoth nest had only been an added prize.
And the children had been the experiment.
Her expression hardened.
'Filthy vultures.'
Then her gaze narrowed, irritation replacing disgust.
Both Iori's and Aeron's cameras had apparently malfunctioned.
Neither of them appeared in the replay.
One claimed he had stayed at the back the entire time.
The other said he had been asleep elsewhere after the vines failed to drag him away.
Equipment failure was not unheard of.
But for it to happen twice in the same incident—
that was suspicious.
Especially when one of them was that painfully average boy.
And yet...
it was also a blessing.
The Veiled Archive had seen nothing of Iori.
A faint smile touched Eliza's lips.
They had forced the Lightbearer into the open.
They had cornered the gifted and harvested what they could.
But the strongest variable had never stepped onto their stage.
And that mistake, Eliza thought, might one day cost them everything.