“New or active student?”

  “Active,” Adam replied.

  “What are you here for?”

  “I’m here for the reappraisal test.” Adam retrieved an amulet from his pocket.

  A pink orchid unfurled, its stem extending toward his hand. The petals quivered as a rosy glow washed over the bronze crucifix. A moment later, the flower retracted, settling once more among the other blossoms.

  “Proceed to the waiting area on the first floor. The test has not yet begun.”

  Several vines slithered apart, forming a colorless portal between them. Adam returned the amulet to his pocket and stepped through.

  The world warped into a kaleidoscope of blurred motion and flashing light.

  He emerged inside a vast hall devoid of windows. The marble floor was pristine, unadorned by furniture, and only a single exit broke the monotony—an opaque, pale-green glass door.

  The faint turbulence of his arrival drew attention immediately.

  Dozens of heads turned toward him.

  Adam swept his gaze across the room. Roughly a hundred students occupied the hall, clustered in groups of varying sizes. A few stood alone, unaffected by the ensuing conversations—others instinctively avoided them, cowed by the pressure they exuded.

  I wasn’t expecting this many people.

  He scanned the crowd, searching for familiar faces. Instead, he found eyes watching him back.

  “Isn’t that Adam?”

  A lanky student pointed openly in his direction.

  Adam turned his head slightly. Did he have dealings with my substitute?

  He looked away, but the murmurs only grew louder.

  “Who?”

  “You’re kidding. How have you not heard of the silver-haired playboy?”

  “Wait… that’s him?”

  “Yeah. That’s him. I can’t believe he showed up.”

  “Did he come because Alexandra’s taking her reappraisal?”

  “Oh shit—you’re right. That bastard already dates girls out of his league. Going after Alexandra is just suicidal…”

  Whispers and open commentary rippled through the hall. Some students shot him mocking glances. Others averted their eyes entirely once they confirmed his identity.

  At least no one will bother me, Adam mused. A playboy’s reputation does have its uses.

  Leaving the noise behind, he drifted toward an empty corner and leaned against the gleaming white wall.

  “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  The voice was low—deliberately so.

  A stubby youth approached with confident strides, wearing a broad smile that softened his sharp, piercing gaze. Adam squinted faintly.

  He looks familiar…

  “Hey! It’s me—Hamo!” the youth announced cheerfully. “Care to buy some reappraisal resources?”

  He produced three thick books from a concealed box, each wedged securely between his pudgy fingers.

  Adam’s brows rose slightly.

  Right… the same guy who tried to sell me books before my mission in Targarth.

  Mistaking the reaction for interest, Hamo pressed on. “Since you’re something of a public figure, I’ll give you a discount. All three for one gold coin. Or”—he lowered his voice conspiratorially—“information of equivalent value.”

  “And what qualifies as ‘equivalent’ information?” Adam asked, lips twitching in a mock smile. “You’re not expecting me to run my mouth until you’re satisfied, are you?”

  Hamo’s left brow jumped, but his grin only widened.

  “Fair enough. I’ll ask something specific.”

  “I’ll answer if it’s something I know.”

  “I want to know everything that happened in Targarth,” Hamo said eagerly. “Especially inside the goblin cave.”

  Adam slowly shook his head and crossed his arms. “And here I thought you wouldn’t remember me.”

  “There’s no way I’d forget someone who rejected my offer outright,” Hamo laughed. “You becoming a celebrity among the female students only helped.”

  “Celebrity, huh?” Adam chuckled.

  “Of course!” Hamo nodded earnestly. “Not just anyone wins over that many beauties.” He attempted an exaggerated gesture, only to fumble awkwardly with the books.

  Leaning against the wall, he tapped his belly with them. “I get it if you don’t want to talk about Targarth,” he said, eyes sharp despite the smile. “Then tell me this—what’s the real reason you’re here?”

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  “So that was your goal,” Adam said lightly. “Believe it or not, I’m here for the reappraisal. Satisfied?”

  Hamo studied him for a moment, then nodded. “A deal’s a deal.”

  He offered the books.

  Adam reached for them, but Hamo didn’t let go.

  “Having second thoughts?” Adam asked.

  “Not quite.” Hamo leaned closer. “Just a warning. A lot of students are watching you closely. It’d be wise to lie low.”

  Then he released the books and straightened his uniform.

  “Why are you telling me this?” Adam asked, glancing down at the thick books in his hands as he tapped them against his palm. “Aren’t you worried about upsetting your clients?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Hamo replied smoothly. “I merely sold you a few books. Why would that anger anyone?”

  He smiled and took a step back. “I’m afraid I can’t chat anymore. Best of luck on your test.”

  Adam watched as the broker approached another group of students, already pulling identical volumes from the same wooden box and slipping seamlessly back into his routine.

  What an interesting guy…

  Adam lowered his gaze and opened the thickest book, skimming its contents before moving on to the second, then the third.

  How did he even get his hands on something like this?

  It’s only a few steps below Elliot’s report.

  He glanced toward Hamo again. The smiling broker had already made another sale, never once looking back at his previous customer.

  Time slipped by as more students trickled into the hall, the space growing increasingly crowded as the test hour approached.

  Then another portal opened.

  The hall fell into immediate silence.

  A woman stepped through, and all eyes locked onto her. A half-face mask bearing the imprint of a skull concealed her mouth and nose. Blood-red hair was braided into a single strand that draped over her shoulder, and her marble-gray eyes radiated raw, unrestrained bloodlust.

  “That’s Alexandra…”

  Several students instinctively retreated, creating space around her.

  Alexandra surveyed the room briefly before heading toward the glass door at the far end of the hall. Halfway there, she stopped.

  Her gaze snapped toward Adam.

  There’s no way… right? Adam steadied his expression, refusing to look away.

  After a brief pause, she turned and continued as if nothing had happened.

  Thank God she didn’t come this way…

  But the murmurs started again.

  Students whispered, pointed, and scowled openly. Adam ignored them, pretending he wasn’t the center of their renewed curiosity.

  Things were a lot quieter outside the academy…

  More minutes passed. Additional students arrived, but none came close to matching the weight of Alexandra’s entrance.

  Then a series of chimes rang through the hall.

  Adam straightened. Finally.

  The opaque glass door turned transparent—then shattered into countless fragments. Two Aviskin stepped through the debris.

  Adam narrowed his eyes. Why do they look familiar?

  The sense of recognition lingered, but no memory surfaced.

  “Settle down,” roared the instructor with an elephant’s head.

  The room fell silent instantly.

  “I’m Doneuuald,” he announced, gesturing toward his companion. “And this is Ouin.”

  Adam’s gaze shifted to the second Aviskin, whose head resembled that of a bull, before returning to Doneuuald.

  “Before we begin,” Doneuuald continued, sweeping the room with his beady eyes, “I’d like to know if anyone here is having second thoughts.”

  Silence answered him.

  “Failure will result in an automatic one-year ban from future reappraisals.”

  No one moved.

  “There’s also the possibility of losing access to certain academy benefits,” he added.

  Still nothing.

  “For the final time—any second thoughts?”

  A frail young girl raised her hand. “May I ask a question?”

  Ouin inclined his head. “Go ahead.”

  “What benefits would we lose if we fail?”

  Adam wasn’t the only one paying close attention. Several students leaned forward subtly.

  “It depends on how poorly the student performs,” Ouin explained. “Penalties range from restricted access to academy facilities and services.”

  He paused, exhaling slowly. “In cases of abysmal performance, expulsion is also a possibility.”

  Gasps rippled through the hall.

  “For the last time,” Doneuuald said, reclaiming the floor, “is anyone having second thoughts?”

  No one stepped forward.

  “Very well.”

  Doneuuald clapped twice. Three portals opened behind him.

  “E to D ranks, move to the colorless portal. Ranks C to B—gray portal. Rank A—blue portal. Instructors at each site will answer your questions.”

  He gestured dismissively. “Those ranked E to D, proceed.”

  Chuckles echoed throughout the hall as students began moving. Many E- and D-rank Awakened clenched their jaws, swallowing their resentment. In Varidan Academy, hierarchy was law.

  Adam walked forward at an unhurried pace, indifferent to the jeers. He met Alexandra’s gaze one last time before stepping into the portal.

  The world shifted.

  Adam found himself in a medium-sized room lined with multicolored ceramic chairs. A blonde female instructor stood at the front, watching the incoming examinees.

  “Please take a seat,” she said brightly. “The test will begin once everyone arrives.”

  Adam glanced at the two students who had arrived before him, then chose a blue chair near the back.

  Within seconds, more than fifty students poured in, each settling into one of the remaining seats.

  The colorless portal vanished as the sixtieth student entered.

  The instructor stepped forward.

  “For the combatant classes among you,” the instructor began, her lazy eyes scanning the room, “you will need to defeat a Familiar to pass this test. An E-rank Awakened must defeat a Familiar equivalent to a D-rank, while a D-rank Awakened faces a Familiar comparable to a C-rank.”

  She shifted her gaze. “Those with non-combat Blessings will take part in the Blessing Strengthening Test. This measures your connection with your Blessing. Passing allows you to attempt a higher-level test without penalty. Any questions?”

  No hands were raised.

  “Very well. Let’s begin. Who would like to go first?”

  Again, silence.

  The instructor exhaled deeply before pointing at a student nervously rubbing his ears. “You. Go first. Follow me.”

  The young man blinked in disbelief, scanning the room to make sure she meant him. With trembling steps, he stood and exited with the instructor.

  “I wonder how long this is going to take…” a girl muttered from her seat.

  Adam glanced at her briefly, then looked away. Most students had begun murmuring amongst themselves, but he stayed silent, observing rather than participating.

  Ten minutes passed in a flash. The exit swung open, and the first student returned, moving with confident strides. A bright smile stretched across his face, despite his uniform being torn in multiple places. His grin broadcasted the success of his test.

  “Why did you come back here?” someone called.

  “How was the test? What kind of Familiar did you fight?” a girl asked.

  “Where’s the instructor? Why are you alone?” another chimed in.

  The young man soaked in the attention, puffing out his chest. “Unfortunately, I can’t share the details,” he said smugly. “My test is done, but I was asked to select the next person.”

  His gaze swept across the room, landing on a corner. “I pick you.”

  All eyes followed the outstretched finger—Adam. Among the low-ranked students, he was already a legend.

  Adam stood, expression unreadable, and left without a word. Moments later, he had vanished behind the exit.

  The first student immediately became the center of attention again, surrounded by eager onlookers fishing for clues.

  “How long do you think the playboy will last?” someone snickered.

  The young man rubbed his ears and scoffed. “No way someone like him lasts five minutes in there. He probably came just to flirt with Alexandra. Too embarrassed to leave in front of others,” he chuckled. “Those Familiars aren’t a joke.”

  “I bet he won’t even make a minute,” another said. “Hell, even I could wipe the floor with that pant-chaser, let alone a D-rank Familiar.”

  “How much are you willing to lose? I bet he’s gone in seconds.”

  “Count me in—I want some of that action…”

  Excited whispers spread as students placed their bets. Adam losing was a foregone conclusion; the only question was when.