Chapter - 17 [ Challenging the Privileged ]

"Everyone has shown how strong their control over their Aura is."

Marin's sharp voice cut through the murmurs of the gathered students. Her piercing gaze swept across the crowd, searching for even a hint of defiance, but all she found were lowered heads and averted eyes.

Some clenched their fists in frustration, while others bit their lips, ashamed of their performance.

"And I am very disappointed in that," she continued, her tone hard and unyielding. "Most of you couldn't even pierce the wooden block."

A heavy silence settled over the field. Some students shifted uncomfortably, their gazes flickering to the wooden blocks they had failed to damage.

The remnants of their weak attacks still marked the training area—scratches, small dents, and the occasional splintered corner.

"Yes, it's true that almost everyone awakened their Aura not long ago," Marin acknowledged, folding her arms. "But does that give you an excuse not to train?"

She let her words hang in the air, her expression demanding an answer none dared to voice.

"When I awakened my Aura," she continued, her voice growing sharper, "within a week, I could already cover my hands with it."

A few students gasped at her revelation, while others swallowed hard, their self-doubt deepening.

"And what about you all?" she challenged, her disappointment clear.

Marin sighed, running a hand through her hair. She could tell that scolding them wouldn't achieve much.

Their failure wasn't entirely their fault—perhaps they lacked proper guidance, or maybe they had underestimated the effort it took to develop their Aura. Still, that didn't mean she would go easy on them.

"In the next two months," she announced, her voice firm, "all of you must be able to penetrate this wooden block with your Aura—and make it explode from the inside."

A few students' eyes widened in shock, while others tensed at the sheer difficulty of the task.

"If you fail to do so, don't expect me to pass you in the final exam," she added coldly.

A wave of tension spread through the students. The weight of her words settled deep in their chests, pressing down like an iron grip.

Marin stepped back, her expression still dark with disappointment, and returned to where the other professors stood.

As soon as she moved aside, the elderly professor stepped forward, his demeanor a stark contrast to Marin's.

His calm, wise gaze held a warmth that softened the intensity in the air. He carried himself with an air of quiet authority, his hands resting lightly on the golden handle of his cane.

A gentle smile graced his lips.

"I will now announce the names of the students who will be promoted from regular students to special students," he declared, his voice smooth and unhurried. "Listen closely."

A hush fell over the group, and for a moment, even the wind seemed to pause.

One by one, the names were called. Some students beamed with pride, their excitement barely contained, while others stood frozen in disbelief.

Those who weren't chosen couldn't hide their disappointment, and in some cases, frustration.

"We did it!"

Morgan couldn't contain her excitement as her name was called. She grasped Narmadi's hands, her eyes shining.

Narmadi, overwhelmed with emotion, wiped the tiny teardrops from her eyes before smiling. "I can't believe it…"

But before they could get lost in celebration, Victor's voice cut in—a low, steady whisper.

"It's not over yet," he reminded them, his sharp gaze flicking toward the field.

Morgan and Narmadi stilled, their smiles fading slightly as they recalled the next phase of the selection.

"How could you forget the main part of this competition?" Victor shook his head slightly, his eyes narrowing.

"Now it will get serious."

The two girls exchanged glances before their excitement was replaced by tension.

'That's more like it,' Victor thought, satisfied with their quick realization.

His focus returned to the old professor, who was still smiling as if he were discussing something pleasant rather than a brutal challenge.

"These thirty special students," the professor continued, "will now join the ranks of the already existing twenty special students."

A murmur rippled through the crowd. The tension thickened, and even the newly promoted students felt a chill run down their spines.

"But," the professor added, his fingers gently tapping the golden cane handle, "unfortunately, no one's position is secured yet."

The students' murmurs grew louder.

"There's a chance," the professor continued in a near-sweet voice, "that you may lose your privilege."

And then, as if savoring the moment, he let out a soft chuckle that soon grew into a full, hearty laugh.

"Haha… Haha haha!"

His laughter echoed through the field, an unsettling contrast to the stiff atmosphere. Even after he stepped back, his amusement lingered in the air.

Sergey, the towering figure among the professors, stepped forward next. His sheer presence was enough to command the students' attention.

"As explained earlier," he began, his deep voice cutting through the murmurs, "students who did not gain the privilege today still have one last chance."

The crowd perked up, eyes locking onto him with renewed focus.

"You will be allowed to challenge any of the special students to a duel," he declared. "Defeat them—and you will take their place."

A wave of reactions swept through the students. Some straightened up, while others clenched their fists, already sizing up their potential opponents.

"However," Sergey raised a hand, "each regular student has only one chance per year to issue a challenge. You may choose to use it now or save it for a later date."

He let that fact sink in. Some students wavered, clearly weighing their options.

"But," he continued, his tone turning slightly amused, "I strongly suggest you all settle it today itself."

A moment of silence followed before Sergey turned slightly and gestured toward the courtyard.

"Now, we shall move to the arena for the duels. The buses are parked in the courtyard."

The students, their hearts pounding with anticipation, followed Sergey's lead.

Conversations erupted among them—some excited, some nervous—as they made their way toward the awaiting buses, ready to determine their fate in the upcoming duels.

---

"What!? You can't do this! You are wasting your potential, Victor. You are meant to be a Hunter with us! Support is for the weak!"

Peter stood frozen in place, his body tense as he processed Morgan's words. His eyes widened in disbelief, his mind refusing to accept the reality before him.

Victor—choosing to be a support?

It was unfathomable. His entire life, his demeanor, his ambitions—everything about him pointed toward becoming a Hunter. Everyone who had known him believed it to be his destiny.

And now, after enrolling in Heaven, he had deliberately chosen to be a Support?

"Don't lie to me!" Peter's voice rose, laced with frustration and disbelief. "Victor, I've known you the longest! When we were kids, you said you would be a Hunter!"

He gritted his teeth, his gaze burning with intensity as he stared at his friend.

This wasn't just some casual decision—this was a betrayal of everything Victor had once stood for.

For the first time, Peter felt anger rise within him, a simmering frustration that refused to be ignored.

Victor, however, remained calm. He exhaled slowly, his expression unreadable.

"People change. I did too," he said, his tone even and unshaken. "Learn to accept it, Peter. Sometimes, it's better to let others be."

There was no need to explain himself any further. He had long since decided that he would no longer live according to others' expectations. If they wanted to make up their own stories about his reasons, let them.

He had come here of his own volition. If he had no reason to join MAD, he wouldn't have set foot here in the first place.

No one could force him—not his parents, not his friends, not society. He had lived independently once before, and if the situation ever demanded it, he would do it again.

With that thought settled, Victor turned on his heel and walked toward his designated bus, his pace steady and unhurried.

Peter clenched his fists but said nothing.

"Peter, he must have his reasons," Morgan spoke up, his voice composed as he placed a reassuring hand on Peter's shoulder.

Peter exhaled sharply through his nose, his frustration still evident, but he didn't argue further.

Instead, he let out a grunt of irritation before storming off toward his own section's bus.

Ariana, who had been watching the exchange silently, narrowed her crimson-tinged eyes as they followed Victor's retreating figure.

"I still can't believe it," she murmured, almost to herself. "That he would choose to be a Support…"

She had seen the reports—detailed records compiled by her family.

From the age of eight, even with a body weaker than others, Victor had trained in multiple martial arts, excelling in all of them.

He had dominated every academic ranking, his name etched at the top of every exam, including his high school finals.

Even his parents had once boasted that their son was a leader—someone who trained others to become the strongest Hunter.

And yet, he had turned his back on all of it.

Had he lied? That was her first thought. But then she recalled Morgan's words that had stood before the entire class, introducing himself without hesitation.

Would he lie even to the professor? Would he lie to the books he carried, which no doubt contained knowledge suited for a Support role?

"As he said—let others be," Jakal remarked, breaking the silence. His tone was casual, but there was an underlying note of curiosity in his voice.

"I don't know what's going on between you guys, but he clearly doesn't want to explain himself."

Beside him, Queer nodded in agreement.

"No point dwelling on it," Queer added with a slight shake of his head. A faint smile played on his lips, amused by the tension still lingering in the air.

With that, he grabbed Jakal's shoulder and pulled him away from the group, leaving Ariana and the others to their own thoughts.

Soon, all the students had boarded the buses. The deep roar of engines filled the air as the large vehicles rumbled forward, carrying them toward the arena.

—

A place of battle, competition, and spectacle—a stage where warriors proved their strength, athletes pushed their limits, and challengers fought for glory.

Such was the arena.

"All special students, stand over here," Sergey instructed, gesturing to one side.

He positioned them opposite the regular students, ensuring a clear distinction.

"Today, we will judge your duels. Normally, the arena manager oversees them. Now, raise your hand and cho—"

Before he could finish, a deep and domineering voice cut through the air, silencing the crowd.

"I challenge Victor Kal to a duel!"

The declaration came from Peter. The students around him instinctively stepped aside, clearing the way so Sergey could see him clearly—not that Peter's towering presence was easy to miss in the first place.

Ariana and Morgan exchanged surprised glances, while Narmadi, Jakal, and Queer looked puzzled.

Has their friendship broken? They silently wondered.

"Oh? So eager to challenge."

The old professor tapped his cane with his fingers, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. Beside him, the youthful-looking, green-haired professor chuckled softly.

"Students these days lack patience," said the Section A professor, shaking her head with a sigh. "They should at least have the courtesy to let their professor finish speaking."

Marin narrowed her eyes at Peter, unimpressed.

"Peter Damentri, do not interrupt when I am speaking," Sergey warned, his tone firm. "This time, I will let it slide. But next time, anyone who does that will face punishment."

Peter, however, paid little attention to the warning. His focus remained locked onto a single figure—Victor.

His gaze burned with intensity as he glared at the young man standing among the special students with unwavering confidence.

Victor, on the other hand, was just as surprised as the others.

'Is this because I chose to be a support?

If so, then it was truly pitiful.'

A faint shadow crossed Victor's face, but he stepped forward without hesitation, moving to the center of the arena. He stood before Peter, who remained silent, his expression unreadable.

The students and professors instinctively created distance, forming a wide circle around them, their eyes filled with anticipation.

"When I say start, the fight will begin," Sergey announced calmly, standing between them. He cast a brief glance at both students before stepping back.

"Start!"

The arena fell into complete silence. No one spoke. No one moved. All eyes were fixed on the two duelists.

"This is what it means to be a hunter!"

Peter roared, stomping the ground.

A surge of purple aura exploded from his body, expanding five meters around him like a raging storm.

His energy was just like him—powerful and domineering. Like a furious dragon, he locked his piercing gaze onto Victor.

On the other side, Victor remained emotionless.

Calmly, he analyzed their power difference.

It's one-sided.

Unlike Morgan, Narmadi, Ariana, and Queer, Peter had failed the aura control test—not because of weakness, but because his aura was simply too strong.

The sheer force of his energy made it difficult to channel precisely, preventing him from penetrating the wooden block during the test.

Marin had advised him to focus on control rather than brute strength, but it seemed he had yet to heed her words.

Even among the special students, Victor had to admit—Peter's aura was one of the strongest.

But…

"You shouldn't have."

Victor's whisper was barely audible. His posture remained upright, his gaze serene, yet his mind was racing with thoughts.

'If I don't reveal my full strength, they will keep challenging me.

Today, I must make them fear me.'

Lowering his upper body slightly, Victor spread his palms open, cracking his fingers like the claws of a beast preparing to strike.

'I didn't waste five years training for nothing.'

His eyes darkened, his breath steady.

'Peter… don't blame me for what I'm about to do.'

Inside him, his once calm heart stirred. The peaceful sea of his mind began to shift—waves forming, crashing against each other, growing wilder with each passing second.

A crimson mist seeped from his body, thick and ominous, consuming the air around him.

It was far denser than Shere Khan's.

[Normal= Regular. I will edit the earlier chapters later.]