The next day would come soon enough.

Rean woke up hours earlier than usual.

It was maybe excitement.

He couldn’t wait to get back to it.

He was just out of one adventure, and now he wanted more.

He logged onto his phone and checked the division’s account.

Chats were running rampant.

Deleted messages.

A ton.

He could make out some thanks to the highlights, but not all.

’It seems they’re talking about me.’

"What did Michael say?" Rean said out loud.

’Why am I asking about Michael first though?’

"Whatever," he brushed it off.

"I can’t believe he ran through a dungeon boss that easily. An A-rank no less."

"Yeah, but Zeta was also pretty awesome."

Rean ran through the messages rapid-fire.

"Rean probs did something during the week we were off. He’s way too OP."

’OP, me? Wait till you see Xander and Victor. Those guys are probably pulling S-rank weights right about now.’

He continued scrolling.

It was one after the other.

Glaze, critique, followed by glaze, critique.

The cycle was vicious, and it seemed to prolong.

Their takes didn’t seem to bother Rean as much. He was more so focused on the usernames.

No more messages.

’Oh, so nothing from him huh,’ Rean let out with so much disappointment.

"Damn."

He fell back into bed.

"Hey, wake up. It’s almost noon," Tylan said.

He dragged on and finally got Rean out of bed.

"I only wanted to sleep just a bit more, but I did way more than just a bit."

"We are heading over for the briefing."

"Come on, go get bathed, dressed, and eat up. Let’s go."

Tylan said with more than his usual smile.

"Ok."

"Ok."

’Damn, why are we still heading over to the guild? Can’t they give us a free day?’ Rean thought.

’But wait, wasn’t I the one who just wanted some more action?’

’Damn, am so split.’

"Sob!"

After cleaning up and eating, Rean got into the car.

It was awkward at first.

He and his brother had pretty much nothing to talk about.

"This silence is killing me," Tylan exclaimed.

He pouted and went full-on talker.

"Hey, proud of what you did yesterday."

"You really came alive."

"I know we haven’t talked a lot, but after all your upgrades, am sure you’re finally bordering on A-rank, huh?"

Rean was shocked. He was a vessel, not a normal awakener. He knew he couldn’t normally improve this much otherwise. Seeing his brother acknowledge him was something he hadn’t put into account.

This lit a fire in him.

This fire brought a smile alive.

"Well actually, I am currently bare of A, maybe slightly less."

"Wow, that’s incredible," Tylan replied.

"Hey, what of you?" Rean followed on.

"Well..."

"Well..."

"Don’t get mad."

"But while you were away, I got certified as an S-rank. Don’t get----"

"No way."

"No frickin way."

"You’re an S-rank now, huh? That’s amazing."

"What. You took it better than I expected," Tylan said.

"Oh please. I’m way too happy for you to be angry about something so arbitrary."

"Besides, am already A-rank. I’ll catch up in no time."

’That I don’t doubt,’ Tylan thought.

"It seems we’ve arrived."

"Ok, later big bro."

Rean got off as Tylan drove away to park at the lot.

’Ok, assessment here we go.’

He walked in.

****************

In the Training facility.

The training hall echoed with sharp wooden cracks and controlled bursts of mana.

No killing intent.

No real weapons.

Just discipline.

Charles rolled his shoulders once, wooden practice blade resting across them casually while blue sparks of mana flickered faintly around his feet.

Across from him, Zeta stood still.

Calm.

Focused.

Her own wooden stick hung loosely at her side, posture relaxed enough to look careless if someone didn’t know better.

But Charles knew better.

"First hit decides momentum," he said.

Zeta smirked faintly.

"Then don’t lose it."

They moved at the same time.

CRACK.

Wood slammed against wood in the center of the ring as both strikes intercepted perfectly. Mana pulse surged through their arms simultaneously, the impact releasing a compressed burst of force that kicked dust outward across the floor.

Neither moved.

Equal.

Charles twisted first, redirecting his stick downward before snapping a quick strike toward Zeta’s ribs. She pivoted smoothly, barely avoiding it before retaliating with a thrust aimed at his shoulder.

Charles blocked again.

Fast.

The exchange accelerated immediately.

Wooden strikes blurred between them, every collision releasing small bursts of mana pulse that rippled harmlessly across their bodies. Neither held back physically, but both controlled their output precisely enough to avoid injury.

Charles fought aggressively.

Sharp angles. Quick pressure. Constant offense.

Zeta answered with efficiency.

Minimal movement.

Clean counters.

Charles swung downward—

Zeta stepped inside the arc and jabbed toward his chest.

He twisted away barely in time.

"...Close," he muttered.

Zeta didn’t answer.

Another clash exploded between them as mana reinforced their wooden weapons again. Charles pushed harder this time, increasing speed while chaining multiple attacks together rapidly.

Left.

Right.

Downward sweep.

Thrust.

Zeta blocked them all.

But now she was giving ground.

Charles noticed immediately.

"You’re slowing."

"Am I?"

He lunged forward to capitalize.

Mistake.

Zeta’s stance shifted subtly.

She redirected his strike instead of blocking directly this time, guiding the momentum past her body before slamming her stick against his wrist with a controlled mana pulse.

CRACK.

Charles winced slightly as numbness spread through his arm.

Not damage.

Disruption.

Zeta pressed forward immediately.

The tempo changed.

Her strikes became faster now—not wild, not overwhelming through strength alone, but increasingly precise. Every hit landed closer to where Charles least wanted it.

Shoulder.

Wrist.

Knee.

Guard.

Charles blocked most of them—

But barely.

A strike slipped through and tapped his ribs.

Another clipped his shoulder.

Charles backed up half a step, eyes narrowing.

"...You were feeling me out."

Zeta smiled faintly.

"Obviously."

Then she accelerated.

The domination started there.

Charles attacked again, but now every movement felt answered before it fully began. Zeta read the rhythm completely, intercepting strikes early and controlling the exchanges entirely.

He swung horizontally—

She ducked under it and struck his wrist.

He thrust forward—

She redirected the stick and tapped his chest.

Mana pulse burst repeatedly between them, controlled shockwaves echoing through the hall as Zeta steadily overwhelmed him without causing real harm.

Charles tried increasing output.

Lightning mana flickered harder around him as he launched a rapid sequence of strikes meant to overwhelm through speed.

Zeta stepped through them.

Calm.

One deflection.

One rotation.

Then—

CRACK.

Her stick slammed against his guard hard enough to knock it wide open.

Charles recovered instantly—

Too late.

A second strike landed against his shoulder.

Then a third against his thigh.

Then a clean thrust stopped directly at his throat.

Silence.

Charles froze.

Breathing hard.

Zeta stood inches away, completely balanced, wooden stick steady at his neck while her mana pulse slowly faded.

No injuries.

No wasted force.

Just victory.

Charles exhaled sharply before lowering his weapon.

"...Yeah alright."

Zeta lowered hers too.

"You started good."

Charles snorted.

"And ended terrible."

"You said it, not me."

A few nearby hunters laughed quietly as Charles rolled his sore wrist again.

Because at the start—

It had looked even.

By the end—

Zeta had completely taken over the fight.

In another room held Porter and Miles.

"I can’t believe am training here with the B squad" Porter thought.

Shom would be so angry I let Charles take my spot against zeta, but I guess a deal’s a deal.

"Ok Miles come at me with everything you’ve got"

Miles moved first.

"Ice Talent."

Mana surged outward violently as he slammed his hand toward the ground.

"Wall."

The floor erupted instantly.

A massive wall of compressed ice burst upward between them, thick enough to resemble a frozen fortress section rather than a simple defensive spell. Frost spread rapidly across the arena floor while cold mist rolled outward from the structure.

The wall wasn’t weak either.

Dense mana reinforced every layer, multiple frozen plates compacted together to absorb impact.

Porter didn’t slow down.

Wind gathered around him sharply.

Not visible—

But felt.

The pressure around his body shifted violently as rotating currents condensed around his arm and shoulder.

Then he stepped forward.

BOOM.

The ice wall exploded apart.

Not cracked.

Not broken gradually.

Destroyed instantly as Porter punched straight through it, spinning wind pressure shredding the frozen structure from the inside out. Shards blasted across the arena like glass caught in a storm.

Miles’ eyes widened.

Porter was already there.

A single strike landed clean against Miles’ jaw.

No fancy sequence.

No extended exchange.

Just overwhelming speed and force.

The impact lifted Miles completely off his feet before he crashed backward across the ground unconscious before he even fully understood what happened.

Silence.

Ice fragments continued falling around Porter as the wind around him slowly faded.

Effortless.

Complete domination.

Porter adjusted his sleeve once and looked down at the unconscious Miles calmly.

"...Too slow."

He helped him get up.

A knock was heard at the first room.

"Hey you guys, we’ve been summoned."

A known was heard at the second room.

"Hey, you guys, we’ve been summoned."

The first was Michael, the second Rose.