[That sensation]

As the group moved up the mountain trail, Kael made casual attempts to gather information—innocent questions here, harmless observations there.

Nothing suspicious, of course.

Just a noble boy making small talk.

Unfortunately, it yielded almost nothing.

All he managed to confirm was what he already suspected:

They were headed to the summit, and whatever artifact or power they were after… it was inside the so-called secret realm at the peak.

He didn't try to poison their food.

Not because he'd grown more ethical, but because the Rank 3 master had eyes on him the entire time.

It was unsettling !!!

Kael swore the man didn't blink.

Ever.

Is this, Kael wondered bitterly,

What girls feel when men stare at them in alleys but you can't call the guards because technically they're not doing anything?

The unease only grew worse as they climbed.

Beasts appeared more frequently now—larger, faster, meaner.

Kael noticed that while the rest of the team fought in formation, it was the master who cleaned up anything serious.

Rank 2 beasts, which Kael had considered borderline lethal, were reduced to wet noises with a flick of the man's wrist.

It was terrifying.

Finally, Kael understood what the system hadn't told him:

Power wasn't linear in this world.

It was exponential.

A Rank 2 could kill ten Rank 1s.

A Rank 3?

A hundred Rank 2s.

With room for sarcasm.

He stared into his soup, cold sweat forming at the back of his neck.

Plan B—murdering his noble family and claiming the duchy—was starting to feel... optimistic.

His father was Rank 4.

Kael was Rank 1.

Technically.

A Rank 1 gremlin with a sword and delusions.

As he brooded over his now-lukewarm soup and rapidly shrinking ambitions, a hand touched his shoulder.

He looked up.

Selene.

He blinked.

She must've noticed he wasn't eating.

Maybe she really—

"If you're not going to eat it," she said flatly, "give it to me."

Silence.

Kael stared at her.

She raised a brow.

He sighed and passed her the bowl.

Screw that caring theory.

Selene spoke—hesitantly.

"Master…"

Kael glanced sideways.

She wasn't looking at him.

Just slightly ahead.

Awkward.

"Why did you… touch me in front of the class? And that whole 'honeym—'"

"Let's move," the master's voice interrupted, sharp as a snapping twig.

Kael stood without answering.

Selene frowned.

"Master—" she called again, but he was already walking ahead.

She sighed and ran after him.

###

Eventually, the group reached the summit.

The portal shimmered before them like a tear in the air—jagged and humming, like reality had been stabbed and never healed right.

Kael took in the scene.

Footprints in the snow—dozens of them.

People had arrived here before them.

Maybe days ago. Maybe hours.

The master turned to the group and cleared his throat.

His voice, calm but cutting, carried through the thin air.

"You know the basics.

Inside the realm, help each other.

If you're scattered, regroup.

Stay in groups. Do not get lost."

He paused.

"And try not to get yourselves killed."

Then came the warnings:

"Common mistakes," the Master said, holding up three fingers,

"One: Thinking this place cares how strong you are.

Two: Ignoring the creepy vibes.

And three: Trying to be the protagonist."

Kael snorted quietly under his breath.

'So, basically, everything I do by default.'

The Master's expression didn't change.

"One more thing—if you hear something whispering, don't listen.

It's not polite company."

He scanned the students.

His gaze lingered just a little longer on Kael.

Kael shifted uncomfortably, narrowing his eyes.

Okay, he thought.

This man is either watching me too closely… or judging my entire existence.

Possibly both. Should I be flattered? Concerned? Filing a report?

One by one, the students stepped into the portal.

Selene hung back.

Her voice barely above a whisper.

"Master…" 

Kael turned to her.

She looked… worried.

But this time, Kael didn't fall for it.

He straightened his spine, threw on his most arrogant expression, and gave her a look that screamed unbothered and extremely important.

Selene stepped closer.

Then kissed him.

Light, quick, right on the cheek.

"All the best, Master," she said—and without waiting for a reaction, turned and stepped into the portal.

Kael stood there, utterly dumbfounded.

She kissed me, he thought.

Selene.

He blinked.

Then smiled faintly.

Girls are… difficult.

Infuriating.

But maybe this was it—maybe he was finally in his romantic arc.

And just as the thought bloomed in his head, he felt it again.

That sensation.

That cold, unblinking stare.

Kael sighed and slowly turned.

The master was still watching him.

Still.

Watching.

Kael froze.

No. Nope.

I am not questioning this man's sexuality.

I am not going to die like this.

Overcome by quiet horror and mild secondhand embarrassment,

Kael jumped into the portal.

Behind him, the master remained.

Silent.

Still.

Watching.

####

Kael landed hard.

Not on stone, not on dirt.

On something… squishy.

Something that groaned.

He didn't care.

His eyes scanned the chamber instead—black marble walls, torches flickering like they were nervous, and a silence so thick it felt padded.

The air buzzed faintly, as if the dungeon itself was holding its breath.

Around him, about seven other students stood in a loose, confused circle.

Elara was among them—arms crossed, staring at him with an expression somewhere between confusion and judgment.

Kael squinted. "What?"

She pointed downward.

He looked.

Groaned.

"Oh."

Beneath him—sprawled, twitching, and making distressed rodent noises—was Adam.

Unconscious.

Kael facepalmed.

"Of course. Out of everyone, I land on him."

Adam stirred, blinked up at him, then shrieked like a toddler who'd just seen broccoli.

"Get off me, you bastard!"

Kael obligingly rolled off him with all the grace of a drunk cat.

"Relax. I didn't do it on purpose," he said.

Then added, "Probably."

Elara smirked. "Great start."

Adam scrambled to his feet, brushing his robes off like they'd been insulted.

"You did that on purpose!" he barked.

Kael flicked imaginary dust from his shoulder.

"Right.

I waited in the void between realms just to belly-flop onto your spine.

Brilliant strategy."

"You arrogant little—!"

"Magicless," Kael offered helpfully.

"Can't forget that one. Your favorite insult, isn't it?"

Adam's face turned a fascinating shade of beet.

"I don't even know how someone like you made it in here!"

Elara stepped in before the argument could evolve into shirt-pulling.

"That's enough," she said.

"Both of you."

Adam grumbled.

"Just you wait."

Kael didn't reply.

He didn't need to.

His silence had better timing than most insults.

Then the ground vibrated.

A deep, growling roar rolled through the chamber like someone had kicked a mountain.

The torches flickered.

The group fell instantly silent.

Kael didn't wait for instructions.

He stepped forward, gaze narrowing toward the dark hallway ahead.

Something was coming.

And then it arrived.

Towering. Hulking.

Covered in scaled, iron-dark hide.

Its footsteps cracked the floor.

Its breath steamed like smoke from a dying forge.

It had the eyes of a predator.

Molten. Focused.

That's a T-Rex, Kael thought.

If a T-Rex had been dipped in demonic sauce and taught resentment.

Someone behind him gasped.

"Th-that's a Crimson Devourer… Rank 2!"

The name hit like a slap.

Everyone stiffened.

Spell sigils formed on shaky fingertips.

No one spoke.

No one breathed.

Kael exhaled slowly.

Well, he thought.

This just got inconvenient.

Adam, who had clearly learned nothing from anything ever, stepped forward like a rooster with a death wish.

"What's everyone so scared of?" he said.

"It's just a Rank 2. So are we."

Then he glanced at Kael. Smirked.

"Except him, of course."

A few nervous chuckles followed.

The kind of laughter that wanted to pretend this was still school.

Kael said nothing.

Elara, to her credit, had officially run out of patience—and testosterone tolerance.

"Shut up!" she snapped.

"That thing is almost Rank 3—look at the mana bleeding off it!"

All eyes turned to the beast.

The shimmer around it wasn't just red—it was pulsing.

Thick, heavy, and mean.

The kind of mana that didn't hum so much as growl.

Finally, reality set in.

Not the oh no, we might lose marks kind of worry.

The I-wish-I'd-written-a-will kind.

Students started panicking.

One dropped their staff.

Another quietly muttered what sounded like a prayer to a god they'd clearly only just remembered existed.

Elara barked orders.

"Use spells to stagger it.

Keep your distance.

You—enchanted net.

Wait for my signal. We weaken it first, then trap it."

Everyone scrambled like their robes were on fire.

Everyone except Kael.

He just… watched.

The spells came in hot—flames, lightning, a few that probably weren't supposed to be that color.

Panic was a great creativity booster.

The beast blinked.

Once.

Slowly.

Like it was deciding which one to eat first.

Then it lunged.

And a student was gone.

Just—gone.

Swallowed like a snack with no chewing involved.

"IT'S DANGEROUS!" someone shouted helpfully, as if the monster was just misunderstood until that point.

Screams erupted. Panic bloomed.

Spells became sloppier, wilder, more desperate—like people trying to out-shout death.

Another student vanished in a splash of red and poor decisions.

Then another.

Kael stood still.

Hands loose at his sides.

Eyes calm.

Not frozen. Not scared.

Just… detached.

Strategic.

Doing what he did best in life-threatening situations:

Absolutely nothing useful.