After Professor Phoenix's "warm welcome" and the establishment of the new rules of the game I'd be forced to play under her icy supervision…
I found myself heading toward my first lecture since my glorious return from the world of detention.
I felt like the main character in some ridiculous play—every eye fixed on me, waiting for me to trip, say something stupid… or suddenly explode and turn into a multi-armed monster.
What a fun and exciting life, I thought as I stepped into the lecture hall assigned for [History of Gates and Failed Horror Analysis]… or something along those lines.
I wasn't really paying attention to the fancy course titles.
"…."
As expected, the moment I entered, silence fell.
Whispers stopped as if someone had hit a mute button.
Every eye—from the students in their seats to the instructor preparing to begin—turned toward me.
I felt like a rare panda suddenly released into a classroom full of curious children.
Wonderful, I muttered internally. Looks like my legend made it here too.
Adam Lister—the student who returned from death (or from an A-rank gate, which might be worse)… under the direct supervision of the academy's most terrifying professor.
What a great headline for my autobiography… assuming I live long enough to write it.
I ignored the stares and whispers that resumed the moment I sat down in my usual seat in the back row—surprisingly empty on all sides, as if I carried some contagious disease.
Students avoided sitting near me.
Some glanced quickly, then looked away.
Others whispered behind their hands.
The professor—an elderly man with a long white beard and half-moon glasses, looking like he'd stepped straight out of an ancient wizard tale—gave me a look that mixed curiosity with caution.
Then he continued his lecture on "the importance of understanding the historical context of manifested horror before attempting to deconstruct it using shallow modern logic."
Or… something like that.
I pretended to pay attention, nodding occasionally as if I understood every word of that philosophical nonsense.
In reality, my mind was busy analyzing reactions around me… and trying to recall anything from "Vanguard Academy Chronicles" that might be relevant to what comes next.
The calm before the storm…
I stared at the holographic display showing the evolution of an ancient gate.
According to third-rate narrative logic, periods of 'relative stability' are usually followed by something big.
A disaster… or at least a ridiculous, deadly test designed to weed out the weak or unlucky.
I couldn't pinpoint exactly what that "big event" was at this stage.
My memory was still fuzzy—like a book I'd read long ago and forgotten parts of.
But the feeling was there.
Something was coming.
Something that would require me to be ready.
Because the last time I trusted the story's events…
I got hugged by an A-rank horror.
In the middle of the lecture, while the old professor passionately rambled about "semiotic influences of forgotten symbols in pre-fracture scenarios"…
I felt it.
Someone watching me.
Not casual curiosity like the others.
This was different.
Deeper.
Enough to send a chill down my spine.
Slowly—carefully—I turned my head.
And met her gaze.
A girl with jet-black hair and piercing emerald eyes.
Isabella "Izzy" de Luna—the elegant illusionist.
She wasn't looking at the professor.
Not at the display.
She was looking directly at me.
A faint, amused smile—barely visible—rested on her lips.
When our eyes met, she didn't look away.
Instead, she raised an eyebrow slightly.
Oh great… am I attracting the wrong kind of attention now?
From what I remembered, Isabella wasn't just a beautiful, wealthy girl.
She was intelligent.
Cunning.
And she enjoyed manipulating people—for fun or for her own goals.
Becoming her new "interesting toy"… was not a good sign.
I quickly looked away and returned to pretending to focus on the lecture, while my mind raced.
I need to be more careful.
If people like de Luna… or Drake Mallory… or even Kai Morgenstern start focusing on me… I'm in serious trouble.
…
…
…
This is boring.
When the lecture finally ended—after what felt like an eternity—I gathered my things quickly, ready to escape before anyone could approach me.
But of course…
The universe always has plans when it comes to me.
The moment I stepped out of the classroom—
She was there.
Professor Aurora Phoenix.
Waiting in the hallway.
Wonderful, I thought.
Unexpected event unlocked.
"Lister," she said coldly.
"There has been a schedule change. Your next lecture is canceled."
"Instead… there will be a practical training session for all Class Alpha students. Main Training Field #1. Now."
Practical training…
I raised an eyebrow.
"And what kind of 'practical training' is this, Professor?" I asked innocently.
"Flower crown making? Or are we dissecting giant frogs?"
She gave me that cold stare I was starting to get used to.
"You'll find out when you get there, Lister."
"Move. No delays."
No escape, huh…
I followed her—well, walked slightly behind her—feeling everyone's eyes on us again.
The suspicious boy and his icy handler walk toward an unknown fate.
Sounds like a low-budget horror movie title.
After that delightful exchange—which made me feel like I needed a long vacation somewhere warm…
Preferably far away from anyone dressed in silver or capable of freezing helium with their voice—
I was led to Main Training Field #1.
A sudden practical training session…?
A faint smirk formed on my lips.
The training field was massive.
All of Class Alpha had already gathered—standing in small groups, their faces showing anticipation, anxiety, and restrained excitement.
Several instructors stood around the edges…
But the dominant presence, as always, was Professor Aurora Phoenix.
Standing at the center.
Hands behind her back.
Silver hair gleaming under the sun.
Like an icy beacon in a sea of confused teenagers.
When everyone had assembled—
She stepped forward.
Silence fell.
"Students," she began, her clear, powerful voice carrying effortlessly across the field.
"Based on recent performance evaluations… and the need to assess your combat abilities and competitive spirit in a more direct and realistic manner…"
"It has been decided to conduct immediate sparring matches."
Sparring?
My eyes widened slightly.
Fantastic.
Exactly what my already exhausted body needed.
A chance to either look like a complete idiot… or a deranged genius… in front of a full audience.
She continued outlining the rules:
Hand-to-hand combat only. No weapons.
Win by ring-out, surrender, or incapacitation (as judged).
No excessive force or serious injuries.
Absolute discipline—no shouting, no mocking.
Fight seriously. No hesitation.
Matchups will be randomly selected. No .
The tension was thick.
No one dared object.
"Very well," she said.
"First match…"
A pause.
"…Ethan Riddle… versus Kai Morgenstern."
A ripple of shock spread.
Then silence.
Of course.
Protagonist vs. major character. Classic narrative logic.
Ethan stepped forward—confident, radiant, golden energy already forming around his fists.
His skill:
[Pulsing Star Heart — A+ Rank]
Raw stellar energy, enhancing strength, speed, and impact.
Every strike now carried explosive force.
Kai…
Just stood there.
Calm.
Silent.
Hands relaxed.
Like nothing mattered.
"Begin."
Ethan exploded forward like a meteor.
Golden energy blazing.
A devastating punch aimed straight at Kai's face—
Who simply… slipped aside.
Not fast.
Not flashy.
Just… perfectly timed.
The punch missed.
Ethan stumbled slightly.
And then—
Kai moved his leg.
At that exact moment—
Ethan's foot slipped.
He fell.
Not luck, I realized immediately.
[Probability Weaver — A Rank]
Kai wasn't controlling reality.
He was nudging probability.
Making unlikely things… happen.
At the worst possible moments.
The fight turned into something surreal.
Ethan attacked relentlessly—faster, stronger, more aggressive.
But every strike missed by inches.
Every movement went slightly wrong.
Every step… just slightly off.
Like reality itself was working against him.
Until finally—
Kai slipped behind him.
Touched his neck.
Lightly.
And Ethan…
Collapsed.
Energy gone.
Body trembling.
Completely defeated.
"Match over," Phoenix announced.
"Winner: Kai Morgenstern."
Silence.
Then whispers.
Shock.
Confusion.
How did he win… without even attacking properly?
Simple, I thought.
He didn't overpower him.
He broke him.
Mentally.
Physically.
Probabilistically.
This class…
It's not just talented.
It's full of monsters.
Phoenix raised her head again.
"The next match…"
"…Serena Valerian vs. Isabella de Luna."
All eyes turned.
Anticipation surged.
Now this… I smiled faintly.
This is going to be interesting.
Note (refined):
This sparring session does not define absolute strength.
Kai defeating Ethan doesn't mean Ethan is weaker.
It means:
Kai understood Ethan's ability.
Ethan didn't understand Kai's.
Kai exploited conditions, psychology, and probability.
In short—
Kai didn't win with power.
He won with intelligence and mastery of his ability.