Chapter 71: Zane vs All

The last embers of Ron’s fiery assault faded into the air, and the training hall finally grew still. The broken dummies smoldered faintly, the scorched stone carrying the scent of charred wood and smoke.

Zane’s eyes slowly swept across the gathered students. His hands rested behind his back, expression unreadable. The silence weighed heavier than any spell they had cast.

He had spoken nothing during their displays—only the rare, subtle nod to a select few. To the rest, not even a glance of approval.

Now, after what felt like an eternity to the students, Zane finally broke the silence. His voice was calm, even casual, yet it carried through the entire hall without effort.

“Alright,” he said, “I understand your abilities.”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd—some relieved, others tense. Those who had earned the rare nod straightened their backs with pride. The ones who hadn’t shifted uncomfortably, a mix of frustration and shame brewing in their hearts.

The training hall grew quiet once again. Zane was about to speak, his eyes sweeping across the students, when a sharp movement caught his attention.

One student—his charcoal blazer crisp and immaculate, pastel-blue tie perfectly knotted, and the academy crest polished on his breast pocket—stood rigidly with his fists clenched, anger flickering in his eyes.

Zane’s gaze shifted toward him, a faint curve at his lips.

“Hey, you,” he said calmly, voice carrying across the hall. “The one with the scowling eyes. You look like you want to say something. What is it?”

The noble student stepped forward, his face twisted in frustration.

“Your judging standard is far too high!” he burst out. “You’re nothing more than an outsider—some commoner who wormed his way into becoming a teacher for first-years! Yet you judge us like you’re some high-class master?”

The words rippled through the students like a shockwave.

A few commoner-born students stiffened, their expressions hardening. They didn’t like the way the noble spat “commoner” as if it were dirt. But none dared to speak, not when the boy’s family name alone was enough to crush them.

Ron and Lia remained stone-faced, their expressions steady. Yet inside, their hearts beat with unease. They knew better than anyone what happened when someone crossed this man before them. Lia still remembered that moment—her throat tightening at the memory of how close she had come to death from a single careless word.

Maera and Selene exchanged glances, their eyes flicking back to Zane. They weren’t curious about the noble’s arrogance—they wanted to see how he would respond.

The hall was silent, every breath heavy, as all eyes waited for Zane’s reply.

The moment those words left the noble’s lips, Zane smirked. Then, without warning, laughter burst out of him—deep and sharp, echoing through the training hall.

“Ahahahahaha!” He wiped an imaginary tear from his eye, his grin feral. “That’s what you think? That my standards are too high?”

He leaned forward slightly, eyes glinting.

“If anything, I’ve lowered the standards to test you all. Lowered them, and still—just look at you. Huffing, whining, red-faced. How pampered are you, that the slightest challenge makes you cry?”

The noble boy’s face turned crimson. He trembled with anger, words catching in his throat. All he could spit out was:

“You… you commoner!”

Zane tilted his head, grin widening.

“Ah, so that’s what it is.” His voice carried like a blade through the silence. “It seems many of you are still not satisfied with my reactions. You still don’t understand my strength. Fine then…”

He spread his arms mockingly.

“I’ll give you a chance. How about this?”

Murmurs spread instantly. Excited whispers. Nervous gasps.

“I will lower my strength to around the average of this class—no, maybe even less. And all of you…” His gaze swept across the group, sharp enough to make some flinch. “…will fight me.”

The silence cracked. Some students froze, horrified. Others looked thrilled at the thought of testing their strength. Maera’s eyes sharpened with interest, Selene’s lips pressed in thought. Ron and Lia exchanged quick glances, and both felt their blood stir.

We get to fight him…? Their eyes gleamed.

But Zane wasn’t finished. His tone dropped, smug and dangerous.

“And to be fair for you, I’ll even give myself a handicap.”

He walked toward the center of the training ground, his steps leisurely, almost playful. Then he drew a broad circle into the dirt with the tip of his boot and stood inside it.

“I won’t leave this circle.” His arms crossed over his chest, his expression mocking. “If you can move me, even one step, then you all win. I’ll lower the standards and give you higher scores.”

He let the silence hang for a beat before adding, voice suddenly sharp:

“But if you lose…”

A chill ran through the students’ spines.

“…then every single one of you will run fifty laps around the track. With weighted restraints. Ten kilograms minimum—more depending on your strength.”

Even the strongest among them shuddered. Even Lia and Ron. Even the invited nobles. It was monstrous.

And yet Zane wasn’t done.

“To make it more fun…” He straightened his posture, folding his arms across his chest. “…I won’t even use my hands. Or my legs.”

His stance was perfectly still, his confidence unshaken, as if he were declaring an undeniable truth.

“Come,” he said softly, smirk tugging at his lips. “Let’s play.”

The word play burned in their ears like poison. Some students gritted their teeth, furious at the arrogance. Others felt relief, thinking he was underestimating them.

But all of them knew one thing—this was no ordinary “assignment.”

Zane stood within the circle he had drawn, arms folded, his posture relaxed—almost lazy. His voice carried with sharp clarity:

“You may use weapons, magic, or both. Come at me—all of you.”

The students bristled. Warriors tightened their grips on steel, boots digging into the floor. Mages spread out, already beginning their incantations, mana humming thick in the air.

Then, with a shout, the physical fighters launched forward.

At their head, the very noble who had provoked this trial charged with a longsword gleaming. He raised it high and slashed down with fury.

Zane tilted his body slightly. The blade cut through air as the noble stumbled forward, carried past the still figure.

One after another, swords and spears came at him. The ring of steel filled the air—yet Zane didn’t move a step, didn’t even lean toward the edge of his circle. Every swing passed by him harmlessly, as if he knew their trajectories before they even began.

And then, the mages’ chants finished.

Bolts of flame, streams of water, bursts of lightning surged toward him. The glow lit up the training hall.

Zane only sighed. “Phew.”

A puff of air left his lips—yet in an instant, the barrage twisted. Fireballs, water spears, and arcs of lightning veered wildly off course, slamming back into the charging warriors.

“What the hell!?” a mage shouted in panic as their comrades were scorched and staggered.

Still, Zane smirked. He hadn’t moved a single step.

Then Ron came.

His flame aura flared bright, spear glowing molten orange.

“Inferno Spear—Cinder Lance!”

He lunged with a precise, ember-trailing thrust that would pierce through stone.

Zane’s eyes glinted. He slipped aside, the lance grazing past him. Then—just the faintest twitch of his eyes.

Invisible force slammed into Ron’s chest.

The strike wasn’t overwhelming, but it struck a critical point mid-technique. Agony lanced through him, his body buckling as he gasped, dropping to one knee.

Before the others could react—Lia descended from above, her sword blazing green with wind mana.

“Gale Slash!”

At the same time, Maera burst forward with clawed hands glowing with beastly energy.

Zane only exhaled again. “Phew.”

Lia’s overhead slash abruptly rebounded mid-swing, her blade flung off course—straight into Maera’s claw.

“Wha—!? What are you doing!?” Maera snarled.

“My sword—! It rebounded on its own!” Lia barked back, eyes wide.

They didn’t even have time to finish arguing. Zane’s eyes twitched again.

Both girls convulsed as invisible strikes hammered their vitals, dropping them hard to the floor.

The remaining mages rallied desperately, Selene at their center. A vast magic circle swelled above them, light building like a miniature sun.

Zane tilted his head, watching with mild interest. Then he smirked.

The circle shattered.

In a blink, every line unraveled, dissolving into useless sparks. The mana backfired into the casters, blasting them onto the ground, clutching their heads in pain.

Selene’s eyes shot wide. Horror flooded her face.

He… unraveled the spell structure with a single glance…

When the dust settled, Zane was still standing inside the circle. Arms folded. Smiling faintly.

Around him, the entire class lay defeated.

The tension in the training hall thickened as Zane stood silently, his eyes sweeping across the students who had just finished their assigned tasks. Some were pale from exhaustion, others trembling from the pressure. He gave only the faintest nods to a few of them.

“Alright,” his calm voice echoed, steady yet heavy, “I understand your abilities now.”

Relief flickered across a handful of faces, though none dared to relax completely. The momentary silence broke when Zane took a single step forward, his gaze sharpening.

“My turn,” he said.

A collective shiver passed through the room.

Then—Thump.

A sound like a deep, resonant heartbeat pulsed through the hall. At first faint, then louder. It wasn’t coming from the walls, nor from Zane—it was inside them.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Students clutched their chests, their breathing ragged. In an instant, screams erupted as crimson bursts splattered in every direction. One by one, they collapsed, seeing their bodies torn apart in sprays of blood.

Some vomited, some cried outright, their eyes wide with terror. Others shook uncontrollably, unable to comprehend what was happening.

Then the sound stopped.

And they were whole again. No blood, no wounds—only fear.

“What… what was that?!” a student gasped.

“I—I was dead! I swear I was dead!” another sobbed, trembling on the ground.

Zane stood motionless, watching their collapse. Then, with the faintest smile, he said, “Relax. I didn’t attack you.” His voice was calm, almost casual.

The students blinked, their terror only deepening.

“Now,” Zane added, his tone dropping into an unmistakable command, “clean yourselves up. Class dismissed.”

No one argued. They scrambled to their feet, some still trembling, others unable to hold back tears of humiliation as they staggered toward the exit.

Only when the hall emptied did Zane allow himself a quiet chuckle.

“I got carried away,” he muttered under his breath, eyes gleaming faintly. “That heartbeat trick… I really shouldn’t have done it like that one guy in anime .”

He let his hand hover, undoing the ripple of power he had unleashed, ensuring time itself erased the true effect. Fortunately, the students would only ever believe it to be a crushing illusion.

“It’s fine,” he whispered to himself as he turned toward his quarters. “They’ll grow from the fear.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips as he walked away, utterly at ease, as if nothing had happened.

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