Leveling From Hell

Arzael immediately sensed the threat. A white aura that pierced the air, so foreign yet familiar, made the entire forest seem to hold its breath.

Celeron turned, eyes narrowing as he saw a slender, long-haired figure standing behind the trees. The white hand lifted slowly, fingers trembling, and with that motion, the world seemed to shiver violently.

"Mana burst…" Celeron hissed, his face tense for the first time.

But before the explosion could be released, Arzael's shadow tore through space.

"—Shadow Step."

In an instant, he was right beside the girl. The crackling sound of displaced air lingered behind him. Arzael gripped Seraphina's wrist firmly, lowering it before the mana could be unleashed.

"Enough, Seraphina." His voice was low, almost a whisper, yet carried a weight heavier than thunder.

Seraphina's red eyes trembled. For a moment, the white light swirling around her body scattered and vanished, like stars suddenly extinguished. She gasped, but her gaze remained cold.

Celeron's eyes widened, a cold sweat forming at his temples. "Heh… I just saw my life flash before me," he said, smiling.

Arzael still held Seraphina's hand, lowering it gently to her side. The wild aura that had almost erupted was gone, leaving only a suffocating silence.

"This is not the time," Arzael finally said, glancing briefly at Seraphina. His gaze was sharp, not angry, but a clear warning.

Seraphina bowed her head, lips moving silently, as if holding back a thousand unspoken words.

Then Puff emerged from behind Seraphina's hair, speaking up. "Sorry, boss, I already told Seraphina, but she didn't listen…" Puff paused, then continued, "Also, why do you duel random people so often, boss? And… who's that guy—"

Arzael immediately covered Puff's mouth to silence her. "Seraphina, can you step back for a moment? I need to speak to him."

Seraphina just nodded and moved back, Puff protesting on her shoulder. "Eh?! You have to explain everything to us first, boss!"

Arzael exhaled briefly before facing Celeron again. "Alright, I've won, haven't I? Now tell me… do you know the emperor's children in the Hero Haven?"

Celeron, still panting, raised an eyebrow and replied, "Why do you care about them, boy? What's your connection to the Agareth family?"

Arzael's lips curved into a faint smile beneath his hood. "None. I just have… a promise."

'A promise to myself to take revenge.'

Celeron exhaled slowly. "Hmph. Hard to be certain. The Agareth children aren't few, and they rarely appear in the same place. But I know for sure that three of them are here, in Hero Haven…"

He straightened his posture despite his heavy breathing. "Arthur Agareth, the eldest. He's a Class-S hero, ranked seventh in the entire association. Galadriel, his younger sibling, also Class-S, ranked fourteenth. And Aelric, the last one I know of, still at the Hero Academy in his second year."

Arzael lowered his head, thoughts spinning. 'Apart from Aelric, the only ones I knew were Arthur, the first child, and Galadriel, the second. After that? Darkness. They might never even know I exist. Since childhood, I was exiled, discarded like an unworthy stain.'

His smile widened, faint but cold. 'Arthur… Galadriel… and Aelric. So all of you are here.'

Seeing Arzael remain silent, Celeron continued, "Is that all you wanted to know?"

Arzael simply nodded.

Then Celeron said, "Wow, you're really strange… Even though my defeat was humiliating, I admit I lost. But don't get too comfortable, boy, I'll challenge you again." His hair shifted from dark red back to yellow, as before.

"Yeah, I'll be waiting for your next hair form."

Celeron just grinned, continuing, "And don't worry, as agreed, I'll tell the Hero Association you're not a threat."

A lighthearted sentence, spoken without hesitation.

Yet he had no idea that his words and choices at that moment would mark the beginning of something far greater than he could imagine.

Arzael only nodded calmly. He opened the inventory portal in front of him. A faint shimmering light appeared as a glass bottle containing bright blue liquid materialized.

"This will heal your wound instantly," he said briefly, then tossed the potion toward Celeron.

Celeron caught it with one hand. For a moment, he just stared at the bottle, then smiled faintly. "Hah… you really are interesting."

Before he could speak further, a circular glow appeared beneath his feet. Ancient runes lit up, and in an instant, his body was enveloped in white light.

"Get ready, boy. After this, you're in for a lot of trouble." His voice echoed briefly, then vanished along with his body.

Silence reclaimed the simulation forest. Arzael stood alone, gazing at the blue sky above, as if searching for answers.

Seconds later, light footsteps came from behind the trees. Seraphina appeared, her long white hair swaying in the wind, eyes still faintly gleaming. She approached slowly, watching Arzael with curiosity.

Then Puff's voice was heard for the first time. "So boss, are you going to explain what just happened? Who was that person? And why did you tell Seraphina not to attract attention, but you let your points shoot way up?"

"I refuse."

Hearing that, Puff immediately protested, "Oh come on, boss, we've known each other for over three months! Why do you always hide things and handle everything yourself? Aren't we already family?"

Arzael turned to them and replied, "…Family…" He repeated the word, then continued, "That's why I won't let my family get involved in this."

Puff fell silent, ears drooping slightly, while Seraphina continued to observe Arzael with an unreadable expression.

The silence lasted only a moment. Then, from above the simulation sky, the proctor's voice echoed again, loud and magically resonant.

"Alright, participants! The second round is over. Prepare yourselves, you will be teleported to the Coliseum!"

In an instant, a dense white light appeared beneath them. The teleportation aura engulfed their entire bodies, making their vision shimmer. The forest, ground, and hot air they knew vanished in an instant.

Immediately, Arzael, Seraphina, Puff, and the other examinees set foot back into the real world, inside the giant Coliseum.

Arzael glanced around. From the tens of thousands who entered at the start, only about four thousand remained. Their faces were bruised, sweaty, and exhausted, yet their eyes still burned with ambition.

The examinees surrounding Arzael gave him mixed looks, fear, awe, or unease. Whispers filled the arena.

"Hey, check out the first place… It's the one behind Participant No. 439!"

"The shadow! Do you know him? He's the one who helped me fight the Goblin Lord boss!"

"No matter what, his points are abnormal, far surpassing the others."

"Hey, hey, why's his face covered… I want to see him."

Then the proctor's voice sounded again

"Congratulations on passing the second round. The third round will begin tomorrow. We've prepared temporary accommodations for those who passed. Those who didn't, don't be discouraged, you can try again next year!"

Cheers erupted. Those with glowing green plates celebrated, some even crying with joy.

Red plate holders froze in dismay; some bowed their heads, slammed the ground in anger, or left silently.

Meanwhile, yellow plates flickered briefly, some turning green to the relief of their owners, while the rest dimmed to red, leaving their holders exhausted on the spot.

The field was filled with a mixture of laughter, tears, and anxious whispers.

Then the proctor's voice rang again

"…And Participant No. 439, you are summoned by the Hero Association."

Instantly, the noise ceased. Thousands of participants turned toward the black-hooded figure. The green plate on his chest glowed softly, casting faint reflections on the surrounding faces, yet the mysterious aura that clung to him made whispers grow even louder, tinged with awe, fear, and curiosity.

Even the four hundred spectators in the stands fell silent, eyes simultaneously fixed on the lone figure who suddenly became the center of attention. Some leaned forward instinctively, as if trying to catch a better glimpse, while others recoiled slightly, unsettled by the intensity that radiated from him. Heartbeats quickened; breaths were held. The arena felt smaller, the air thicker, as if the presence of this shadowed participant bent the very space around him.