No! I don't want to be a Super Necromancer!

But Damien Bloodbane was a true blue Bloodbane clan member even though he was disowned.

"Maybe his dad cheated with a German bitch? Or his mom slept with a German bastard?" But Professor Bai Lian dismissed the ludicrous thought as soon as it appeared.

The Bloodbanes may be cold blooded and prideful, but they were completely patriotic.

There was no bloody way Damien Bloodbane was anything but a pure blooded Bloodbane.

And if that's the case…

"...Did anyone actually see it fly?" Bai Lian asked again, her voice sharper this time.

The other instructors exchanged uncertain looks.

"No," one murmured. "But it must have. Right?"

"It's not possible to destroy it like that."

Kong Hu didn't say a word. His eyes were locked on the pedestal, his fingers tapping against his bicep like a metronome.

Only one person wasn't trying to rationalize it away.

The mysterious girl in the blue dress stood quietly, her gaze never leaving the scene. She wasn't shocked. She wasn't confused.

She was calculating.

She had felt the pressure of Damien Bloodbane's strike. The ripple in the air. The way the mana shifted. The impact was real.

And unlike the instructors, she knew exactly what energy Damien Bloodbane used.

The Beta Stone hadn't gone anywhere.

It had truly been pulverized, leaving completely nothing behind.

Damien Bloodbane stood there, utterly casual, wiping nonexistent dust from his knuckles. He let out a lazy sigh.

"Sorry," he said dryly. "Next time I'll try not to delete the stone from the planet. My bad."

That broke the silence.

Someone snorted. Someone else choked on their spit. Laughter broke out in scattered bursts.

"Delete the stone?!"

"Who even says that?!"

Zhao Rui's expression twisted with evil glee.

"You're a shameless E Rank! Your very presence here disgusts me. Professor Kong Hu, we need to expel him immediately for trying to cheat! Pearl Institute is no place for lying weaklings with no mana abilities!" He shouted righteously.

Damien Bloodbane turned, eyebrow raised, and replied with solemn mockery.

"You're right," he said. "Pearl Institute is a sacred learning center. If I couldn't cast any spell, I shouldn't be here. But I did use a spell just now. I used the ancient technique of the Phantom Palm to fold space and send the stone to the Shadow Realm."

Professor Wu finally lost it and sprayed tea across his notes.

Professor Kong Hu coughed. "That's not real."

"Immature." Lin Bao snorted loudly.

"I don't think you should be here. Why don't you just withdraw rather than stay here and make a mess out of everything. We are in a war, you know." Lin Fei said seriously.

"For want of a nail, the shoe was lost. For want of a shoe, the horse was lost. For want of a horse, the rider was lost. For want of a rider, the battle was lost. For want of a battle, the kingdom was lost." Quipped Lin Xiu solemnly. "E-rank, you would rob us of many nails if you stayed to distract us."

Professor Kong Hu cleared his throat and silenced the crowd. His eyes locked onto Damien Bloodbane for an unreadable moment before he spoke.

"Damien Bloodbane. Score: pending," he announced at last.

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

"Pending?!" Zhao Rui's voice cracked with disbelief. "You're rewarding this E Rank rat for pulling a stunt?! He clearly cheated! We all saw it—"

Smack!

Zhao Rui's words were cut off mid-sentence as Professor Wu smacked the back of his head with his fan.

"Fifty push-ups," he said flatly, sipping his tea again like nothing had happened. "Your job is to obey orders, not cry about them like your puppy just died. Move."

Zhao Rui's face twisted, but he gritted his teeth and dropped to the ground, beginning the push-ups with violent irritation.

The Lin Triplets exchanged glances and rolled their eyes in perfect synchronicity.

"Pathetic," Lin Fei muttered under his breath, clearly aiming the word at Damien Bloodbane.

Ji Chen stood silently, his posture relaxed, his expression unreadable. His gaze drifted toward the horizon, as though none of the drama unfolding around him had anything to do with him.

Damien Bloodbane simply smiled, unconcerned, and turned away from them all.

But as he did, his eyes briefly met hers—the mysterious girl in the light blue dress.

She was watching him. Not with awe. Not with admiration.

But with something sharper.

Recognition.

Then, just as quickly, she turned her head and broke the connection.

Damien Bloodbane blinked, a wry glint in his eye.

At moments like this, he actually missed Fatty and his endless, unquestioning loyalty.

And the crazy old generals with their loud voices, greedy plans, and strangely infectious laughter.

Professor Kong Hu let the dust settle, then turned back to the group.

"Enough drama. Next segment—combat evaluation," he barked. "One-on-one sparring. Same rules: no weapons, no equipment. You may use mana. First one to land a decisive strike wins. No life-threatening blows. First match: Zhao Rui versus Damien Bloodbane."

Zhao Rui's head snapped up, eyes blazing.

Damien Bloodbane's lips curved into a small, polite smile.

"Oh?" he said. "Is it my turn to cheat again?"

Zhao Rui stepped forward immediately, fire mana already flaring across his limbs. His boots scorched faint black marks into the field with every step. He didn't even wait for a nod.

"I've been waiting for this," he growled, eyes burning with flame. "Let's see how long your stupid smile lasts, E Rank."

Damien Bloodbane merely stepped into the ring and rolled his shoulders. He said nothing, but the slight upward quirk at the edge of his mouth made Zhao Rui's teeth grind.

The whistle blew.

Zhao Rui didn't hesitate.

He launched forward, a straight right punch wreathed in roaring flame.

Damien Bloodbane tilted his head a hair's breadth to the left, and the punch missed.

Zhao Rui unleashed a sweep-kick of molten sparks. Damien Bloodbane hopped lightly over it like he was skipping puddles.

Zhao Rui's attacks came faster—spinning fists, knee strikes, even a short-range fire burst meant to knock Damien Bloodbane back.

But the Super Soldier didn't even raise a hand. His movements were efficient, almost casual, evading each blow by the smallest possible margin.

By the sixth move, Zhao Rui's frustration had boiled over.

Literally.

Steam hissed from his skin, his aura flaring hot enough to make the nearest students step back. He launched into a spinning, flame-charged roundhouse kick that cracked the air.

Damien Bloodbane ducked, exhaling slowly.

Seventh move. Zhao Rui roared and overcommitted, both feet off the ground for a flaming dropkick.

That was when Damien Bloodbane stepped forward.

His foot lifted.

And then crack—

A clean, effortless upward kick to Zhao Rui's backside.

Zhao Rui sailed through the air with a yelp that sounded suspiciously like a pig being launched from a catapult. He crashed down in a heap outside the ring, smoke rising from his clothes, pride smoldering worse than his shirt.

The crowd stared in stunned silence.

Then a strangled snort came from Professor Wu.

Followed by a full-tea-spitting guffaw.

"That… was a textbook anti-flame ass-kick," he wheezed.

Zhao Rui groaned on the ground, clutching his butt with both hands, eyes wide in disbelief.

Damien Bloodbane didn't say a word. He simply turned and walked off the stage with the same casual air as a man leaving a tea shop after buying snacks.

He had used no fire, no wind, no mana at all.

Just seven evasions.

And one beautifully executed boot-to-butt maneuver.

Even the instructors—many of whom had written him off—were now scribbling notes.

But Damien Bloodbane sighed inwardly.

"Goddammit," he thought. "This is exactly how you get more attention."

Zhao Rui's face turned redder than his fire aura.

He scrambled to his feet with wild eyes, fists clenched at his sides. But he couldn't find the words. His pride, his image, his carefully cultivated superiority, all of it shattered in front of the entire Pearl Institute.

He glared at Damien like he was trying to incinerate him on the spot, but Damien simply rolled his shoulders, gave him a dismissive glance, and turned away like he was done with warm-ups.

And then from the sidelines, Fatty exploded.

"YEAHHHHH! THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKIN' ABOUT, BOSS!!" He bounced around the edge of the sparring field like a manic cheerleader who had just won the lottery.

"Did you see that? DID YOU SEE THAT?! Right in the royal buns! BOOM! That's for earlier, you red-haired flaming chicken!"

Students burst into laughter. Even a few second years had to cover their mouths.

Fatty wasn't done.

"Oi, Zhao Rui! Next time you pick a fight with my boss, bring some flameproof underwear! HAH!"

Zhao Rui's face twitched violently.

He opened his mouth, and then closed it.

He turned away stiffly, not trusting himself to speak, and stormed off toward his side of the field.

"Come on, man! Don't be shy! Want me to ice that bruise for you?" Fatty howled with glee.

Damien just sighed and muttered under his breath. "…Why is my biggest fan also my biggest liability?"

Fatty grinned like he'd just won a personal war. "I live to serve, boss."

And the crowd would remember that fight—and that kick—for a long, long time.