The principal exhaled slowly, as if even he needed to steady himself before announcing the final names.
"Now," he began, his voice carrying weight, "onto the final two."
A ripple of anticipation surged through the crowd. The tension in the air thickened with every passing second.
"In second place," he declared, "with an astounding 2,000 points... Mr. Leon Stroud."
A portal flared open with a gentle shimmer. Unlike the thunderous entrances before, this one felt serene—almost reverent.
And then, he stepped through.
An ethereal young man with flowing white hair and pale, almost luminescent eyes to match.
His skin seemed untouched by hardship, and his uniform remained spotless, unwrinkled, as though the entire ordeal had never touched him.
He looked more like a prince from a divine painting than a survivor of a monster zone.
A strange stillness followed his arrival.
The audience didn’t scream or cheer. They simply stared—mesmerized, enchanted, bathing silently in the surreal beauty of the man who stood before them.
The very air around him seemed to shimmer faintly with charm.
But not everyone was impressed.
Mia, standing with the heroines near the front, narrowed her eyes.
She scoffed quietly and clicked her tongue in open distaste, inwardly. "Tch. This guy."
He was the reason why her husband had cheated on her. Idolizing this guy.
She would never guy. NEVER.
Back on stage, the principal stepped toward Leon with a proud smile.
"Congratulations, Mr. Stroud. You’ve done exceptionally well—no one has ever broken 2,000 points in the physical exam before you."
Leon gave a small, sheepish bow. "Honestly, I’m surprised myself..."
Then he tilted his head with a faint, playful smirk. "Though I do wonder... why wasn’t I ranked first?"
The crowd laughed lightly. Even the principal chuckled with a glimmer of affection in his eyes.
"Well, well," he said, patting Leon’s head with almost paternal fondness, "you would’ve claimed the top spot... if your opponent hadn’t been that monster."
Leon raised a curious brow, but said nothing more. He seemed amused by the mystery, like someone waiting for a secret to be revealed at just the right moment.
The principal gestured. "Go stand with the others."
Leon complied smoothly, his steps calm, almost graceful as he took his place beside Zyon and the others.
Yet his face retained that curious, lingering smile, as though he already suspected the identity of the one who had surpassed him.
Then the principal’s expression shifted.
Gone was the warmth, the playfulness.
He straightened his back, his voice now solemn and powerful.
"And now... onto the main event."
A tense silence wrapped the auditorium.
"This year, we have a rank one that defies logic, expectation, and every record in the academy’s history."
He paused to let the gravity settle in.
"A monstrous examinee," he continued, "whose performance made me feel bad for the monsters."
The audience held their breath.
"With a history-shattering score of 10,500 points..."
Gasps erupted like waves crashing on the rocks.
Not stunned silence, but horrified silence.
The previous record? A mere 900.
Even Leon’s 2,000 had been beyond comprehension.
It was a number that didn’t make sense. A number that should not exist. That couldn’t.
The faces in the crowd turned pale, eyes wide, mouths agape. Even the teachers in the VIP balcony looked shaken.
The heroine group froze, expressions drained of color. Amelia clutched her skirt tightly. Evelyn swallowed hard. Celeste blinked rapidly, as though trying to convince herself she’d heard wrong.
Even Verena, stoic and silent, stared at the stage, her golden eyes slightly widened.
She stared at the swirling portal forming before them, a knot twisting in her chest.
The portal cracked open—and out staggered a figure.
A collective, horrified gasp swept through the stands.
He emerged like a specter from a war zone.
Blood soaked his form, dried and fresh in equal measure. His uniform was in tatters, barely clinging to his battered frame.
Chunks of flesh were missing from his arms and legs, ragged and torn. His torso was flayed in places, exposing muscle and bone beneath the crimson mess.
Yet, his posture was upright.
And his body—despite the damage—was nothing short of divine. A chiseled, sculpted physique built from months of torment and training.
But more terrifying than his wounds... was his face.
His amethyst hair hung messily over emotionless, sharp eyes that glowed faintly under the crystal lights.
The auditorium remained frozen.
The principal smiled bitterly, though even he looked faintly shaken. "That," he said, gesturing, "is what the monster zones actually do to you."
But his amusement wasn’t shared by the man in question.
Cassius stood there, still, silent.
There was no pride in his stance.
No joy in his victory.
His gaze swept across the crowd—but saw nothing.
He looked like a statue carved from anguish and pain, hollowed out on the inside.
And for Mia, that was the breaking point.
Her hands flew to her mouth, tears instantly brimming in her eyes.
"That’s— That’s not—" she choked.
Ignoring the stares, the whispers, the stunned silence.
She climbed onto the stage, rushing across it with trembling legs.
And when she reached him—her brother—she embraced him as carefully as she could, as though holding something irreparably broken.
"Cassius..." she whispered. "What happened to you...?"
His body was there—but it felt like his soul was still somewhere in that accursed zone.
Cassius didn’t respond. Not a word. Not a twitch.
His arms hung limp at his sides, unmoving even as Mia trembled against him.
It was like hugging a corpse.
Only cold, bloodied flesh and a haunting silence that pierced deeper than any scream.
Mia’s voice cracked as she pulled back, holding his face in her trembling hands. "Look at me, Cassius. Please. Say something. Anything..."
He blinked slowly, like someone coming up from deep water. His eyes moved—not to her, not to the crowd—but down to the blood caking his fingertips.
His gaze lingered at his bloodied hands, a flicker of glint went through his eyes.
The way he was acting was really making her anxious. She even doubted for a second that maybe... just maybe for some accursed reason previous Cassius had returned.
The stage remained silent.
Not even the principal dared to interrupt.
Cassius stepped forward, slipping gently from Mia’s grasp.
He walked toward the edge of the platform, his movement sluggish but precise, like a man carrying invisible chains.
The crowd instinctively leaned back. Even the boldest nobles in the front row recoiled at his approach.
There was something primal about him now—like a predator that had clawed its way out of death and hadn’t yet remembered how to be human.
The principal cleared his throat and stepped in. "Mr. Lancaster, if you’d—"
But Cassius turned to him with those cold, amethyst eyes, and even he fell silent.
It wasn’t rebellion. It wasn’t arrogance.
Then finally he uttered something.
"I followed the rules," Cassius murmured. "I fought in the designated zones. Endured the trials."
His gaze swept the stunned crowd.
"And I won. Didn’t I?"
The principal nodded cautiously. "You did. You won by a landslide."
"Then where’s the applause?" Cassius asked, almost rhetorically. "Where’s the praise?"
Leon flinched slightly, his amused expression vanishing.
Cassius looked up toward the crystal boards, now lit with his image and score in radiant gold.
It was not a pleasant smile.
It was also not his signature maniac smile. It felt hollow.
He said softly. "Ten thousand points...."
His hand drifted toward the jagged wound along his side.
The principal’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully, but he said nothing.
Cassius exhaled slowly and finally walked to take his place at the end of the lineup, beside Leon.
But as he passed, Leon tilted his head, studying him carefully.
"You’re... different," Leon said softly, not mockingly, but with a strange glimmer in his eyes. "Weren’t you a renowned pacifist?."
Cassius didn’t look at him. "Was... it’s past now."
Then he stood at the edge, straight-backed, arms at his sides, bleeding and silent.
The principal stepped forward again, regaining some of his composure.
"Well," he said, trying to summon some grandeur into his tone, "with that, we conclude the presentation of our top physical examinees."
Still, no applause came.
Just stunned silence and terrified awe.
The principal sighed. "You may all take your seats for the next phase of orientation. Healers will tend to our top scorer—though I’d suggest approaching with caution."
The stage slowly cleared.
Emris, Zyon, and even Leon descended the platform, casting lingering glances at Cassius as they went.
The heroines also casted their eyes upon him. But decided against taking any action.
They would wait until he healed.
But unlike them Art didn’t hesitate. He immediately went up to Cassius, and gave him a small pat on the shoulder.
Cassius didn’t respond. Just flinched.
"Did it hurt, Cass? Are you okay?" Art inquired.
But Cassius wasn’t responding to anything, his eyes were there but also not.
Art didn’t know what to say. He was usually the one who got pampered and did tantrums. He didn’t know how to respond in the situation.
After waiting for a long while, he eventually accepted his defeat and went down. "Go get healed first.... You aren’t looking cool you bastard."
This time there was a response. Cassius’ eyes twitched silently.
Mia hesitated at his side.
"Cassius," she whispered again, "it’s me. It’s Mia. Your sister. You’re safe now, okay? You’re not in there anymore."
For a long moment, he didn’t react.
But just before she gave up, Cassius turned to her.
And for the first time, she saw it—a flicker of warmth behind the cold.
"...Thanks," he muttered hoarsely. "For running to me."
Mia’s breath caught in her throat. She nodded quickly, wiping her eyes.
And together, they left the stage.
Behind them, the crowd remained seated—but no one would forget what they’d witnessed today.
A perfect score in academics.
A monster score in the physicals.
They all felt that this year was going to be maddening.
And the Academy would never be the same.