Landen braced himself for death—but nothing came.
Instead, he noticed the crowd. Their faces weren't filled with fear or anticipation, but confusion… and then surprise. They glanced at one another, uncertain at first—until, all at once, the entire arena erupted into laughter.
"Hahaha!!"
Landen frowned, quickly looking down at his own body.
"What the hell are they laughing at? Is this some kind of sick joke?"
But it wasn't a joke at his expense—at least, not in the way he thought. If anything, the crowd believed they were the ones being fooled.
To them, this had to be staged. The teachers must have deliberately set this up, using Landen as part of a lesson—to frighten them at first, only to reveal that appearances could be deceiving. A reminder not to judge strength by outward looks, and not to assign labels without understanding what truly lies beneath.
Landen turned toward the display. If he could read it, he would have seen:
Name: Mifaso Latido
Essence Grade: Civilian
Total Energy: 0
Landen was the weakest person in the entire place, and now everyone knew it.
A sharp thud echoed as Chief Marshal Vanderbilt struck his wooden staff against the ground, silencing the crowd.
"Although his power appears nonexistent, he was brought here for a reason. Do not count him out just yet. There is always the possibility to break through and grow. One day, he may even be the one giving you orders."
He gestured towards Celestine. "Let us proceed to the next test."
Celestine tapped a button, and the image on the large display changed to show a large color wheel.
The diagram was divided into 12 distinct wedge-shaped segments, each representing a different hue. Each color segment was further divided into five concentric layers. The outermost layer features the most saturated, pure version of the color, while the inner layers gradually become lighter (tints) as they move toward the white circular center. Each of the 12 segments was labeled on the outside with the following labels:
THE 12 SOUL COLORS
Primary: Red, Yellow, Blue
Secondary: Orange, Green, Violet
Tertiary: Red-orange, Yellow-orange, Yellow-green, Blue-green, Blue-violet, Red-violet
"Another core element of the dantian is the Soul Energy," Celestine said. "This is what determines your abilities and attributes such as strength, agility, and intelligence."
"Every person's soul energy is unique, but can be categorized into a Soul Color. The importance of the Soul Color is that abilities and weapons can also be categorized into a Soul Color, so knowing what spectrum you lie in can help you choose the right abilities to match the color you are in to maximize your full potential. For further details on the Soul Color, you can attend the Dantian Energy Class taught by yours truly," she said, gesturing to herself.
She clicked a button, and the display disappeared into the stage. Behind it was a large glass bowl that resembled a fish tank, complete with stairs and a platform at the top. Inside the bowl was a thick black liquid that seemed to absorb all light.
"For this second test, we will determine your Soul Color with this." She pointed to the liquid. "With only a trickle of blood, the black liquid will turn into your Soul Color, and to demonstrate, we have our special volunteer Mifaso."
The crowd laughed at his name. Their perspective of Landen had completely changed. In this world, the energy level determines status and strength. Even though none of them had taken their test yet, they knew they were stronger than him, and with that, Landen was now beneath all of them.
"With his luck, he probably doesn't have any Soul Energy," someone said.
"Who wants to bet that the black liquid stays completely black?"
Fortunately for Landen, he couldn't understand all the negative words coming from the crowd. Although he didn't know what was happening, he decided to go along just to see what would happen next. This all seemed to be a performance or a display of some sort anyway.
Landen walked up to the top, where a woman stood waiting with a needle on hand. She pricked his finger, and a small drop of blood fell into the large bowl of black liquid.
At first, nothing.
They waited for another minute, and when nothing happened, the crowd started laughing again. Although Landen couldn't understand what was going on, he wasn't dumb. The look on their faces, the way they pointed at him and laughed. He knew they were mocking him, teasing him, but for what, he didn't understand.
Maybe that was why he never went out much. The world was cruel in ways that didn't make sense. Behind a screen, though, it had always been different. There, he was safe. There, he was untouchable.
"Thank you, Mr. Latido," Vanderbilt said, standing just off to the side.
The lady pointed towards the stairs, but before Landen moved, the liquid started spinning, and the blackness of the liquid slowly changed from black to gray, then to white. But it didn't stop there. The white faded until completely disappearing. The liquid became crystal clear as if there was no liquid at all.
Seeing this, the students didn't know what to make of it, but out of everyone, Vanderbilt was the most shocked.
In all his years overseeing this test, he had never seen the liquid turn clear. So he stood there speechless, unsure how to respond. He didn't know what it meant, but the most logical conclusion was that the boy's soul energy was a blank slate.
Which meant one of two things: either he had the potential to wield all elements and weapons at their highest level, or he had none at all. Either way, Vanderbilt knew one thing for certain—this boy had just become a very interesting prospect, someone worth watching.
A few seconds later, the liquid turned back to black, but Vanderbilt still hadn't said a word.
Murmurs spread through the crowd, uneasy and confused by his uncharacteristic silence and the surprise written across his face.
"Chief?" Celestine's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "What would you like to do?"
He blinked once.
"Conclude the presentation," he said. "Then begin their assessments."
"Right away," she replied, already turning to carry out his orders.
As she addressed the students, Vanderbilt turned to Doe and Ray. "Set him free, and you two may go."
While the others moved to carry out their orders, Landen and Vanderbilt remained locked in a silent stare, neither looking away.
Landen braced himself, expecting some kind of punishment or command—but it never came.
Instead, Vanderbilt simply said, "Don't disappoint me."
Then he turned and walked off the stage.
Celestine stepped forward and pointed toward the perimeter of the arena.
"Take a look around you," she said. "Along the edge of the arena, you'll find six designated testing stations. Please proceed to the one closest to you and form an orderly line. Once you have received your results, retrieve your uniforms at the front desk and then report to your assigned homerooms for further instructions. That marks the end of our presentation. You are now dismissed."
Almost immediately, the tension in the arena shifted as students began moving.
Surprised at his sudden freedom, Landen looked for the closest exit and ran for it.
He burst through the door on the side of the building, expecting to find himself in the city outside. But instead, he was met by a gigantic dome arena.
He stopped short, taking it in. The area he had just left was large, but this one must have been 100 times larger.
A thunderous roar erupted from the arena as cheers crashed together like a massive wave. It sounded just like a high-stakes sporting event.
Landen had always been drawn to that kind of energy—basketball, soccer, anything with a roaring crowd and electric atmosphere. So when he noticed a nearby door left slightly open, curiosity got the better of him.
Without hesitating, he slipped through, eager to see what kind of event could stir up that kind of excitement.
One thing led to another, and before he knew it, he was walking down a dimly lit hallway toward a pair of massive doors.
From the other side, the thunderous roar echoed through the corridor, growing louder with every step. The sound was so intense he could feel it vibrating through the doors as he pushed them open.
The moment they parted, he stepped inside—and froze.
What lay before him was unlike anything he had ever seen.
He found himself in the middle section of the stands, staring out over the inner stadium of a massive, egg-shaped dome. The arena was packed—crowds filled nearly every seat, stretching all the way up to the highest rows on every side. The people across from him were so far away they looked like tiny specks, barely more than moving pixels.
Suspended high above, enormous monitors hung from the ceiling. They displayed all kinds of information—profile images of participants, stats, team layouts—everything you'd expect from a professional competition. It reminded him of the Legend of Kings International Tournament: five players on one side, five on the other, with a giant central screen broadcasting the action in real time.
But there was one major difference.
Back home, Legend of Kings was just a video game. Players sat in booths at the center of the arena, controlling their characters from behind screens.
Here… there were no booths.
At the center of the arena wasn't a stage—it was a battlefield.
Real terrain stretched across the floor, filled with dense clusters of trees, jagged rocks, and uneven ground. A river cut diagonally through the middle, dividing the field into two sides. It looked less like a game and more like an actual world brought to life.
"This can't be…" Landen muttered, his eyes fixed on the massive display. "A MOBA event?"
On the screen, a woman in a shimmering white outfit clashed head-on with a towering warrior clad in bulky red armor. Their movements were fluid, precise—too real.
"But the characters…" he whispered, frowning. "They look… real."
An announcer's voice thundered across the arena, echoing through the stands. Drawn in, Landen stepped closer to the edge of the bleachers. As he leaned forward, he suddenly bumped into something invisible—a protective barrier that stopped him in place.
He steadied himself and looked down.
The battlefield below stretched across an enormous space, easily the size of four football fields. His eyes widened as he scanned the terrain—
Then he saw them.
People.
The same figures from the display were down there, fighting in real time. Spells exploded across the field as a mage unleashed a barrage of energy. A warrior charged forward, slamming the ground and stunning multiple opponents. An assassin flickered in and out of sight, vanishing one moment and reappearing somewhere else the next.
The announcer's voice rose with excitement, and the crowd erupted. The roar was deafening—so intense that Landen could feel it vibrating through his chest.
He couldn't look away.
As the battle unfolded, a chill of excitement ran down his spine.
Landen's jaw slowly dropped.
"They're not just characters…" he murmured under his breath. "These are real people."
"Hey! What are you doing down there?" a voice shouted from behind him.
Landen didn't wait to find out who it was. He spun around and sprinted, racing back through the massive doors he had entered from. His footsteps echoed as he rushed down the hallway, heart pounding.
As he ran, something caught his eye—a strange, glowing door in the distance.
Desperate, he made a split-second decision and bolted toward it.
The moment he crossed the threshold, everything changed.
The hallway vanished.
The world around him dissolved into something vast and unfamiliar—a space that felt detached from reality itself, like it existed outside of space and time. There was no ground, no sky… just an endless expanse.
"Landen Thorne," a majestic voice called out, echoing from everywhere at once.
Landen froze, his breath catching in his chest. "Who's there?" he demanded, turning in every direction, searching for the source.
"It is I… the son of the Creator."
Landen went still.
All the strange events, everything that had happened since he arrived—it rushed through his mind in an instant. The arena. The people. The impossible world.
It clicked.
His eyes widened as he pointed upward, realization hitting him all at once.
"It was YOU!" he shouted. "YOU brought me here!"