Clang!
Immediately, the pale young man's sword was intercepted by another blade before it could reach Hector's neck.
"Fuck! I'm almost pissing my pants," Hector muttered, trembling as he fought to steady his nerves. He inhaled deeply, pressing his back against the arena wall.
"Finally, it's him," he whispered, his eyes brimming with relief as he stared at another young man dressed in a dark cloak that concealed his face.
The pale young man scowled, furious that someone had dared to oppose him.
"You dare? Do you even know who I am?" he growled.
The cloaked figure responded with a quiet smile.
"Oh, I know… I know exactly who you are," he said, voice calm and precise.
Then, he slowly pulled down his hood, unveiling his features.
The pale man's expression twisted in disgust, but his resolve remained firm.
"How about a deal? Hm?"
"That filthy rat, he is hiding knowledge about this trial!"
"We—"
"No."
The cloaked youth cut in, voice flat and devoid of emotion.
"No?"
The pale man gritted his teeth, eyes narrowing as he glared at his opponent. Then, his gaze shifted toward Hector.
"Today, I will end you. No one's going to stop me."
Shing!
He unsheathed his sword again with lightning speed, determined to finish the job. But before he could strike—
Thud!
"Urgh!"
The pale youth's black eyes widened in shock as he clutched his throat, overwhelmed by a surge of pain.
He staggered backward and fell, staring up at the cloaked young man in disbelief.
"H-How?"
Truthfully, he had no intention of attacking Hector; his real objective was to use the words as a distraction. His attention had been locked on the figure in the cloak. Though he noticed the motion of the attack, he was too slow to react. All he glimpsed was the flash of a hilt hurtling toward his neck.
The attacker was simply too fast. Too powerful.
The cloaked youth smirked.
"How? It's simple… You're just weak," he said icily, his tone cutting and cautionary. "Stop pretending the world revolves around you. Otherwise, the second trial will be your grave, Haley."
Haley bit down hard, then let out a frustrated breath.
"Fine! But this round isn't yours, either. You haven't beaten the monster yet," he snapped.
As he turned to leave, Haley muttered,
"I'll crush you next time, Kevin."
...
Ten minutes passed, and the arena returned to its earlier eerie stillness.
Beside Hector, another young man rested against the wall in the same posture. His cloak obscured most of his form, making it impossible to tell what lay beneath.
Everything about him felt uncannily familiar—like something lifted from the pages of a novel Hector had once read—though there were slight discrepancies.
His face was striking, with short black hair falling over part of his eyes. But his black irises were clearly blind, marred by two vertical scars slashing through them.
"Who did this to him?" Hector wondered, mind spinning.
Before he could dwell on the thought, Kevin suddenly turned his head toward him, despite his apparent lack of sight, freezing Hector in place.
In that instant, Kevin's right eye slowly opened, revealing a golden iris inscribed with intricate runes.
It gave off a chilling, unsettling aura.
Kevin parted his lips.
"So, you're from the Lyder Clan?"
"And you're aware I'm searching for them."
Ting!
Kevin paused for a moment, looking dazed, but swiftly recovered and went on.
"Take it."
With a flick of his wrist, a shabby coin, crafted from a blend of silver and another unknown alloy, shot through the air toward Hector.
Hector caught it, his face a mix of puzzlement and intrigue. He examined the strange object in his hand, then looked back at Kevin with wide, questioning eyes.
The coin felt meaningful—almost like a tracking device. Hector had a hunch they'd cross paths again.
Kevin began walking, heading toward the center of the arena. His tone remained flat and distant.
"We'll talk after this challenge ends," he said. "Don't even think about running. I saved your life—and I can end it just as easily."
"Certainly!"
Confronted with that cold threat, Hector scratched the back of his head and spoke awkwardly,
"Hmm, hey! I've got a piece of intel… and I want to strike a deal."
Kevin's eyes flickered with surprise and amusement.
"I'm listening," he replied slowly.
…
Moments later, Hector let out a long breath, finally allowing his tense body to relax as he leaned against the frigid stone wall.
"Damn, he's nothing like I imagined," Hector thought.
"But that difference is what saved me."
"It's a huge risk. One mistake and I'm dead."
"The novel's events have shifted drastically—but only at the surface level."
"What truly matters is the core storyline."
"The main character's motivation is key. It's the driving force behind everything he does."
"So, his goal is to find my clan. I don't know exactly what he's after, or what lies beneath that ambition, but if he keeps bringing it up, it must mean something."
"Fine. I'll handle it when the time comes."
Hector glanced at the coin once more before carefully slipping it into his pocket.
…
The King scanned the arena with piercing eyes for a few seconds. By now, most had recovered from their injuries—except for a few weaker individuals still groaning in pain.
"It's the least I can offer my slaves," he muttered with a faint nod. Then, raising his voice to a gleeful shout, he declared,
"Break time is over!"
"Now, entertain me again! Hahaha!"
His crazed, burning gaze fixed on a far corner of the arena as he called out in a twisted, lascivious tone,
"My favorite pet!"
Instantly, the arena floor shook. But this time, no one flinched—they had anticipated it. They braced for the final trial.
As the King had warned earlier, this creature was their last foe.
But as the dense cloud of smoke slowly cleared, the fighters' courage evaporated. One after another, their expressions collapsed into horror and despair.
A towering orc crashed to the ground, roaring furiously. Its massive fists slammed into the stone floor over and over as it bellowed in a deep, guttural voice,
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"
Suddenly, a man in the arena shouted at the King, his voice trembling with rage and desperation.
"Hey! You sick, bald freak! This is your idea of a challenge? Are you just trying to kill us all now?"
Others quickly joined in, shouting and cursing at the King. Their fury and defiance rose in unison, driven by the grim knowledge of what awaited them.
They were going to die—ripped apart by the monster before them.
And they weren't wrong, their predictions were spot on.
But the King had no intention of ending their lives so easily. What he truly desired was their suffering. The anguish etched on their faces brought him a perverse sense of pleasure.
Grinning wickedly, he dismissed their curses without a thought and turned his gaze toward his monstrous pet, eyes gleaming with twisted delight.
Amid the chaos, Hector's reaction stood out sharply from the rest.
"Damn it! My mind's not ready for this!" he muttered, a trace of fear in his voice, though it wasn't full-blown panic.
"Still, that thing wasn't summoned for me—it's meant for him!" he thought, eyes scanning the surroundings.
Without hesitation, he slipped away, vanishing into the shadows once more—like a cunning, lowly rat trying to survive.
…
As the dense smoke thinned, the creature's form gradually became visible—massive, menacing.
A wolf, grey as ash, towering to the size of a truck.
At first glance, it didn't look all that different from the lion-like beast they had fought earlier. Its appearance was almost… normal. But there was something far more horrifying.
The mana radiating from it.
It was suffocating. Oppressive.
This wasn't just a beast—it had reached the Novice tier.
And no one here was strong enough to face it—unless they too had ascended to that level or beyond.
But the cruel truth was this: the first challenge was meant for novices. They had barely begun to tap into their mana reserves.
This wasn't a trial.
It was an execution.