In a certain room, it was filled with several people—it resembled the VIP rooms where Arsene usually sat with Sebastian and Meredith.
This room served as the meeting point for the two squads that were about to clash. It belonged to the Black Nightmare squad. Each team consisted of multiple members, but only five would participate—and naturally, only the five strongest.
The leader of the Black Nightmare, Geneva, had red hair, a gloomy expression, and wore several belts wrapped around him like a mummified corpse. He carried no weapons and was consulting with the supervisor of their squad—of course, the supervisor was a professor at the academy.
Every squad had a professor overseeing them, so these fights were not merely student affairs but also contests between professors and factions within the academy. Singularities from all backgrounds wished to prove they were the strongest.
Geneva was consulting the professor about the fifth member they would field, especially after losing one of their key members—Jolovier.
The atmosphere in the room was dire, particularly among the Black Nightmare members. Some cursed Jolovier for his recklessness, some wished him a speedy recovery, and others cursed the unknown person responsible for Golovier's current state.
They had sent several people to search for him but came up empty-handed. Damn those two from the Throne Swordsmen—they let him go on purpose!
Geneva and the professor reached a consensus about who would participate. The latter, Professor Gasmond Fiorelle—a thin, crooked man as students commonly called him—spoke.
"Alright, silence please. We're in a precarious situation, but it's still possible to turn it to our favor—that's what we hope at least. We've lost an important member like Jolovier, which clearly weakened our team, and our opponent will certainly underestimate us.
Geneva and I have concluded that the element of surprise is what could aid us in this battle. And naturally, we focused less on sheer strength and more on Singularity. So—!"
Geneva and Gasmond both turned toward someone sitting at the far end of the room.
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Arsene was sprawled on the couch, arms stretched along its backrest, staring at the ceiling as if deep in thought.
Sebastian also sat nearby, stealing glances at him repeatedly without bothering to hide it—clearly signaling, I'm watching you, dear Arsene.
Meredith sat on his chair, eyes closed. The match had been delayed. Suddenly, he smiled as if something had crossed his mind and began asking questions.
"Arsene! I heard your Singularity is unique, but you haven't mastered it yet—or rather, according to you, you haven't fully grasped it?"
Arsene's blank gaze returned from the ceiling as the unexpected question snapped him back to reality.
"Ah, I don't know if it's that unique… but all I can do is read people's thoughts and see what's going on inside their minds—like short-term memories and such."
Meredith showed no expression but quickly regained his usual energy.
"How can you doubt it's unique? Even the genius Faradice wasn't a match for you. I heard you saved him later, and your last opponent—Jolovier—he's leagues stronger than you, yet he couldn't stand against you either, despite being a fifth-year student close to graduation."
Arsene smiled lazily, eyes drifting back to the ceiling.
"Just a simple backlash of my Singularity on the person I used it against. But if the person is very strong, I'll take that backlash as well—it'll just be physical damage, nothing more."
Meredith responded,
"I see. That's why you're internally injured now—it's the backlash. I thought it was from your fight with Jolovier. I've been thinking… this backlash might be a Mutation of your Singularity.
The more you use your Singularity—and on stronger people—the greater the backlash you'll suffer. At some point, it could even kill you."
Arsene smiled inwardly. Meredith was really trying to figure everything out. Well, he had also considered that, but nothing was certain yet.
Arsene replied,
"You might be right, Professor Meredith. But as long as my opponent shows no mental resistance, I won't get any backlash, and I'll suffer no damage."
Meredith exclaimed,
"Good! Good! That's excellent. This opens up a new door—we can consider your Mutation a double-edged sword. When it senses resistance, it sends a backlash to your opponent as well. Your Singularity is incredible, Arsene. You just lack power. You need to promote and sharpen your skills through hard training.
Only then will you be ready!"
Sebastian smiled.
"I think you forgot something, Professor Meredith."
Meredith blinked, surprised, looking at Sebastian.
"Oh? Did I really forget something?"
Sebastian nodded.
"Experience and expertise."
Meredith laughed, gazing at Sebastian.
"Experience and expertise come with the passing years, when one lives long enough!"
Sebastian simply smiled at Meredith's words. Arsene felt that these two shared a strange harmony—they could understand each other's intentions with just a glance.
The three fell silent. Arsene rested his head on his hand and began watching the Sky Arena—because here and now, the match was about to begin.
There was no such thing as a match commentator—only someone who announced the names of the competing squads and their participants.
There were no referees either. The rules were clear: any intent to kill directed toward someone was considered a loss, meaning killing was strictly prohibited. Even showing killing intent toward opponents meant instant defeat.
As for injuries and wounds—that was normal here, as long as it wasn't something severe. Fifth-year students were too valuable to the academy and the entire One Throne Alliance. They had been trained and vast resources had been spent on them.
Just to die in a mere fight or academic activity? Absolutely not.
Regarding referees, there were none—only the professors supervising the teams could intervene in critical situations.
Any participant could withdraw if they could no longer fight, but the match would continue even if it became one versus five.
The battle wouldn't end until the last person on the arena fell and the team captain surrendered.
The stands were packed, and a wave of excitement swept through—especially since this was the best time to place bets on the winning team. But bad news spread for those who had bet on Black Nightmare.
There was great agitation among the spectators. Black Nightmare lacked a key member, but on the other hand, joy erupted from the opposing side.
Jolovier wasn't participating! Jolovier was out of the Black Nightmare's lineup. Did something happen? A change in plans? Who was that person?
A fourth-year student who had just recently joined!
Selcim Varn!
Everyone was talking about the young man—his hair as black as ancient ink, a tall, lean body, broad shoulders, and practical clothing that prominently displayed his muscles like an ancient Greek sculpture.
He carried a thin black sword, dragging it along the ground with a screeching srrrhhh! as he walked beside Geneva and three others.
The stands were full of question marks about what was happening.
Had Selcim already promoted to stage Three?
What was going on? So quickly?
Some believed Selcim's inclusion in the Black Nightmare's main lineup was because he had promoted to stage Three of magic promotion, but that wasn't the case. Selcim hadn't promoted yet.
Black Nightmare was the first team to arrive at the Sky Arena.
Only the appearance of the Skywalkers remained.
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