Adam and Hendrix stood before the Registration Hall. Unlike the other parts of Varidan, few students passed through here.

  “I’ll wait for you on the other side,” Hendrix said, pointing at a distant bench. “They don’t joke with punishments in this place.” He patted Adam’s shoulder before walking eastward.

  Adam’s gaze followed him until he disappeared from sight. Only then did he turn toward the hall’s strange entrance.

  He approached the ring of flowers slowly, stopping a few paces away.

  “New student or active student?” a mechanical voice asked.

  “Active student.”

  “What is your purpose for coming?”

  “I’m here to register my Blessing.”

  “Records Department. Second floor.”

  Bluish petals flared to life, releasing a cloud of pollen that thickened into a misty portal.

  Adam stepped through without hesitation. The world twisted, and before he could blink, he stood in a dimly lit room.

  What’s with this academy and its hatred for doors?

  Before he could adjust, a feminine voice called out. “Come here. I don’t have much time.”

  Tilting his head, Adam spotted a desk at the far end of the room. Behind it, someone was rummaging through a cabinet.

  He moved closer. But just as he neared the desk, his vision distorted again—then everything vanished.

  Another one?

  When his sight cleared, he was lying on something soft. The faint scent of lavender filled the air.

  Why am I on the floor?

  He pushed himself up using a pristine white sofa. A wall-length bookshelf caught his eye, stacked with color-coded books and a bronze bust gleaming at the far end.

  This must be the Records Department.

  He turned at the sound of a familiar voice.

  “It seems you’re not used to portal transfers,” the woman said. “I’d have recommended the stairs if I’d known.”

  Adam froze. His breath hitched.

  Standing by the window was a woman he recognized instantly.

  What the—how is she here?

  He took a step back. Then another.

  Elliana?

  He remembered her clearly—from the airship at Bloodfall Catacombs. The woman who knew what he was.

  But she looked different now. A black trench coat concealed most of her frame, and white gloves marked with black crosses covered her hands. She held a translucent file, its symbols shifting like smoke.

  “Please, have a seat, Adam,” she said, her tone polite. “Would you like something to drink?”

  Adam didn’t respond. His mind raced.

  The woman closed the file and met his gaze.

  “Is there something on my face?” she asked, glancing at her reflection in the glass. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  Adam’s unease deepened. His eyes darted around the room — the only exit was behind her desk.

  “Are you alright?” she pressed, genuine concern lacing her words. “You realize staring and saying nothing is rude, right?”

  He frowned. Is she pretending not to know me?

  “Adam, are you sure you’re okay?” she asked again, though this time her voice carried an edge of impatience.

  “Do you know me?” he finally asked.

  She blinked. “What kind of nonsense question is that? I was just browsing your file. How else would I know your name?”

  He hesitated. The woman looked like Elliana. She sounded like her. But she wasn’t acting like her.

  Whatever this is, I need to finish up and get out fast.

  “I’m here to register my Blessing,” Adam said carefully.

  “I was this close to kicking you out,” she muttered. “Take a seat.”

  “Uh… how should I address you, Miss?”

  She rolled her eyes and pointed toward a nameplate on the desk.

  Adam followed her gesture.

  Arianna von Fitzgerald.

  Then he noticed a small, framed photo beside it — two identical women in sundresses, smiling in a sunlit meadow.

  Oh? Oh.

  Arianna exhaled sharply. “Are we going to do this or not?”

  Adam sat down. “What do I have to do?”

  “It’s a simple process,” she said, her irritation melting into professionalism. “Your trial results already gave us a read on your Blessing, but we encourage students to register them manually — to correct any potential errors.”

  She placed her hand on the table. The wood rippled beneath her palm like the surface of a disturbed pond.

  Arianna lifted her hand from the table. When she did, a file shimmered into existence between her fingers. Without warning, she tossed it toward Adam.

  “Have a look,” she said curtly. “And I’m obliged to inform you, lying about your Blessing results in immediate expulsion.”

  Adam caught the file and opened it without meeting her gaze.

  Even here, it says I fought a Familiar.

  He remembered the announcer’s voice clearly: Unranked Demonkin. His brow furrowed as he flipped to the sponsor section.

  Who the hell is Aldo Gibbs?

  He was certain Fyren had confirmed his identity at the bridge. Erik Gilmore had been the name recorded there. Yet here, Aldo Gibbs was written in bold.

  Vicar must be behind this.

  He skimmed the rest, stopping at the final line:

  Having completed both trials, Student 009 is determined to possess the Blessing of Weapon Manipulation.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Adam almost smiled.

  He closed the file and looked up.

  “Is the assessment correct?” Arianna asked, watching him closely.

  “It’s perfect,” Adam said.

  The file in his hand suddenly darkened, turning pitch black before floating out of his grasp and gliding back to the table.

  “Don’t worry,” Arianna said. “That’s a confidentiality seal. As long as you remain loyal to Varidan Academy, it’ll never reopen.”

  “Even if I gain new abilities?” Adam asked.

  “You can always return to register new skills or titles,” she replied with a nod.

  Adam exhaled. “Understood.”

  “That’s all, Adam,” Arianna said with a faint smile. “I wish you a good stay at Varidan Academy.”

  “Thank you,” he returned her smile. “Uh… where can I find the stairs?”

  The corner of her eye twitched. A dry smile tugged at her lips.

  “You believed that?” she said, suppressing a laugh. “You’ll get used to the portals eventually.”

  Before Adam could reply, she snapped her fingers. A black-and-blue portal spiraled open beneath him.

  He barely had time to curse before it swallowed him whole.

  He landed back in the dimly lit antechamber, though this time the dizziness was gone.

  “Don’t just stand there,” came the same disembodied voice. “Do you have any other business here?”

  “No,” Adam said.

  “Goodbye.”

  A soft click echoed and once again, his vision blurred. When it cleared, he stood outside the registration hall, the night air cool against his skin.

  I always thought getting into Varidan Academy was too easy. But now that I think about it, maybe Vicar’s people are pulling more strings than I realized. Just how far does his reach go?

  Adam took a slow breath and turned to leave. On his first step, a figure approached through the faint glow of the lamplight.

  He stopped, eyes narrowing. The woman’s mohawk stood proud against the night breeze, her sharp expression unchanged since the day he first saw her.

  Their gazes met for a heartbeat. Unlike Adam, she didn’t slow.

  “Thanks for the other day,” he said when they passed each other.

  “You can thank me by not talking to me,” she shot back, walking ahead.

  Adam chuckled, glancing over his shoulder. For a moment, barely a flicker, he caught a smile tugging at her lips.

  She’s exactly the hard-ass I thought she was.

  He shook his head, amusement fading as he turned east.

  I’ve been gone too long. Hendrix is probably waiting.

  He moved at an easy pace through the lantern-lit courtyard. A few minutes later, he spotted Hendrix under a tree, laughing animatedly with two girls. Water bottles glimmered at their feet.

  Adam sighed. This guy, really.

  Hendrix gestured wildly as he talked, earning another laugh from his audience.

  Thank God we passed Pyren’s Valley before coming here, Adam thought, already turning to leave. If Hendrix noticed him, he’d drag him into another conversation.

  It’s an ass move to bail on him like this, he admitted silently. But the thought faded as quickly as it came. “Let’s settle what’s important first,” he muttered, continuing north.

  The campus grew livelier the farther he went—clusters of students talked near guarded dungeon gates, others testing skills in open fields.

  To think everyone here is still in Year One.

  Hendrix had mentioned that upperclassmen were off-campus for reasons even he didn’t know. The thought lingered for a moment before fading as Adam stopped near another dungeon entrance. Two masked guards stood still before the darkened structure.

  He stared at it, curiosity tugging at him. What does it actually feel like inside one of those?

  He’d seen dungeons on screens, read countless novels, but now that he was standing this close, those fantasies felt distant—naive, almost.

  “Slow and steady,” he murmured. “Everything will fall into place.”

  Time slipped by as he walked. Eventually, he reached the mouth of a mist-covered valley. White fog drifted like a living thing, shrouding tall trees and streams that whispered through the dark. Beyond, mountains tore through the clouds like ancient spears.

  A floating sign glowed faintly nearby:

  Pyren’s Valley

  Do not loiter. Do not trespass. Defaulters will be punished.

  Adam chuckled. “This is one place I wouldn’t mind a portal transfer.”

  He stepped past the sign, descending into the haze. The darkness swallowed him, but to his surprise, it didn’t blind him. The world around him shimmered instead, every shadow etched in silver clarity.

  He took a step back—the light vanished. Another step forward, and the glow returned.

  I need to study every mechanic tied to Outworld, he thought. Ignorance here will kill me.

  He pressed onward, eyes lifted to the strange noon-light sky. There was no sun, no source, just a quiet brilliance that stretched endlessly overhead.

  “Name?”

  Adam froze. The voice was high and sharp, echoing from nowhere.

  “Name?” it repeated.

  “Adam,” he answered cautiously.

  “You have one hour to subdue a weapon. Do not harm any creature in the forest. Proceed.”

  He hesitated. “And if I fail to subdue one?”

  “You leave with nothing.”

  A wry smile curved his lips. Do the weapons here have egos?

  He moved forward. The forest unfolded into motion—bluish butterflies drifted like living sparks, shedding soft dust that shimmered in his wake. Birds sang from unseen branches, and the distant rush of water filled the air.

  Adam’s gaze caught on a tree with grey leaves, where two katanas clashed midair, steel ringing against steel. They fought like living warriors, their movements deliberate, almost graceful.

  A faint notification flared before his eyes:

  [Arranging Data...]

  Name: Sakura

  Type: Katana

  Creator: Pyren

  Rank: D

  Omen Points required for submission: 2

  “Sakura?” Adam murmured.

  He hadn’t known Omen Points could be used like that. And the name—Sakura—felt oddly out of place.

  Did Outworld influence Earth, or the other way around?

  He shook off the thought and kept walking, the sound of dueling steel echoing softly behind him.

  Ten minutes later, faint chimes broke the silence. Adam raised his head just as a golden radiance pierced the clouds, washing the forest in its brilliance.

  [Arranging Data...]

  Name: Subhūti

  Type: Khakkhara

  Creator: Pyren

  Rank: C

  Omen Points required for submission: 14

  He quickly looked away. Even without seeing it directly, he could feel the heat of that divine light pressing on his skin.

  That staff is dangerous. If the system prompt hadn’t appeared, I might’ve stared myself blind.

  Something about it stirred him in ways he couldn’t explain—a deep, primal yearning rising from somewhere beyond thought.

  “Child.”

  Adam flinched, spinning around. The voice had come from nowhere and everywhere at once.

  Nothing.

  He swallowed hard. The staff? No, it couldn’t be.

  “Who’s there?” His voice rang through the clearing. “Show yourself!”

  Only silence answered. The air hung heavy, unmoving. He turned again, scanning the trees, but saw no one.

  Without waiting, Adam moved, taking quick, controlled steps away from the golden glow. The light dimmed behind him, and only when it faded completely did his pulse begin to steady.

  Then came the sound. Low, thunderous, like war drums shaking the ground. Leaves trembled; trees shed them in waves.

  [Danger Detected]

  A shape emerged through the mist.

  A massive green python slithered into view, its scales glistening like wet jade. Adam met its dull gray eyes and froze.

  The creature paused too, then turned away. It didn’t attack, didn’t even acknowledge him. It simply glided past, leaving a trail of whitish-blue liquid in its wake.

  [Arranging Data...]

  Title: ???

  Type: ???

  Creator: Pyren

  Rank: E

  Omen Points required for submission: 10

  Adam frowned. That’s a weapon too?

  The rank didn’t match the cost. How can an E-rank require ten points?

  Then he noticed it—the fluid left by the serpent had begun to gather, floating upward in a trembling, formless mass.

  “What do you seek?”

  Adam stiffened. This voice was older and colder.

  “Who’s there?” he barked. “Show yourself!”

  “Do you seek power?”

  The question slithered through the air like smoke.

  Adam’s gaze fixed on the floating mass. His pulse quickened. No way…

  He stepped back.

  “Do you seek vengeance?”

  The voice came again, closer now, the words carrying weight like stone. The blob pulsed in rhythm with it.

  “I’ve been searching for someone,” it said. “Someone who will make it pay. Will it be you?”

  The mass lunged before he could answer, latching onto his arms like living chains. Cold bit into his skin, strength draining from his limbs.

  “Adam, get rid of it. It’s dangerous.”

  The demonic voice echoed in his head. But his body wouldn’t respond. The whitish-blue mass turned darker, black seeping through like ink in water.

  “Why won’t you let me use you?” the old voice roared. “I just want to make it pay!”

  “Fuck you,” Adam snarled through gritted teeth.

  He forced the system interface open in his mind.

  [10 Omen Points have been deducted.]

  [Commencing enforced submission…]

  [Skill: Dominator accelerating subjugation rate.]

  The moment the last line flashed, the world exploded.

  A violent shockwave hurled Adam into the air. Trees ripped from their roots; beasts and weapons were flung skyward, spinning like leaves in a storm.

  “You’re not human!” the old voice howled through the chaos, half mad, half exultant. “Finally—someone who can wield me!”

  The blob convulsed, shrinking as the light within it flared. Adam’s hands were still bound; he could only watch.

  [Omen Subjugation Completed.]

  The forest screamed. A roar like thunder split the air, and the earth shuddered beneath him.

  I’m fucked.

  Even from above, he could see the chaos spreading—the valley in ruins, and in the distance, flashes of light as people rushed toward the disturbance.

  Then came the shattering—like glass breaking across the sky. The gale tore through the forest’s ceiling, striking a silver barrier that cracked, then disintegrated.

  For a brief moment, Adam saw the entirety of Varidan Academy sprawled beneath him. Towers glimmered; people swarming toward Pyren’s Valley. Far off, a red glow pulsed around Dratol’s grand dungeon, The Labyrinth of the Nameless—before the same golden light swallowed it whole.

  [Subjugation Information]

  Title: Cataclysm, Runed Blade of Delusions

  Type: Twin Battle Axe

  Creator: Pyren

  Rank: Omen Synced

  [Rank Updated!]

  He didn’t even have time to read the rest. The gale collapsed. Gravity took hold.

  Adam plummeted through the canopy, branches and shattered weapons slamming into him on the way down. The impact hit like a meteor; his breath left him in a rush.

  Through blurred vision, he saw two massive battle axes embedded in the ground beside him. Four feet long, each had an obsidian-black blade and blood-red handles etched with intricate runes.

  Then they shimmered and vanished.

  Darkness claimed him.