Damaris reacted on pure instinct, her voice sharp as she barked a: [Dispel]

  The snake-skinned barrier shimmered and vanished, freeing them up as she dashed backwards, skidding on the grass.

  Nephara also didn't waste any time, as her hand shot out, grabbing Seraphina by the collar like a ragdoll and hurling her away to safety with a grunt. "Stay back!"

  In the same motion, she lunged forward, palm igniting with searing heat as she slapped it right up against the man's chest.

  [Blazing Palm]

  A vicious spit of fire erupted point-blank, engulfing him in flames that should've barbecued him on the spot, the heat wave singeing the grass around them.

  But the guy just waved his hand lazily, like swatting a fly, and a sudden gust of wind whipped up from nowhere, blasting the fire out in all directions and nearly knocking Nephara off her feet. She stumbled back a step, eyes wide. 'HOLY SHIT—that wasn't a skill! What is this fucking monster?!'

  Pissed and not about to let him walk it off, Nephara clapped both hands together in front of her chest, channeling the rush of adrenaline.

  [Tidal Breaker]

  A high-pressure shot of concentrated water exploded from her palms like a bullet, rocketing straight at his hooded face with enough force to punch through steel.

  He sidestepped it casually, the water blasting past and cratering the ground behind him with a wet crunch. 'Slippery bastard!'

  Seraphina scrambled to her feet, shaking off the dirt, her eyes hardening as she thrust her hand forward.

  [Face of God]

  A blinding flash erupted from her face, flooding the garden in searing white light. Nephara didn't waste it, using the fact that the skill was cast behind her, she dropped low and slammed her fist into the dirt.

  [Gaia Strike]

  The ground cracked like thunder, fissures spiderwebbing out from the impact point, sending a stunning shockwave that buckled the man's knees and dropped him flat on his ass. Well, that is what should have happened.

  The girls froze, breathing heavy, waiting for the payoff—but no notifications popped. No damage numbers again. Nephara's gut twisted. "Wait... he's not even—"

  "That slippery fucker!" Nephara snarled, whipping around to scan the garden, only to lock eyes on him, standing a few paces away with an unconscious Damaris slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Her friend's head lolled limp, eyes closed, no sign of a fight. 'How the hell—?'

  "Great teamwork~ I see the vision, and I like your instincts, little Nipha—" The masked man cut himself off with a series of dramatic coughs, hacking like he'd swallowed a bug mid-monologue. He straightened up, clearing his throat with exaggerated flair. "Ahem. Foolish heroes, your efforts are in vain, for I am a villain! Fear me, rahhhh!"

  A really, really overwhelming wave of power washed out from him, like the air itself was thickening into a chokehold. Both remaining conscious girls would've been terrified, if not for that previous goof-up. The coughs had ruined the vibe, turning what should've been a nightmare into a bad theater performance. Especially for Nephara, who instantly knew exactly who this clown was the second "Nipha" slipped out—that old nickname only one person ever used.

  Her scowl flipped into a genuine smile, tension melting as she dropped into a low stance, wind kicking up around her feet again.

  She dashed forward in a blur, planting herself squarely in front of Seraphina like a human shield. But the man, with Damaris still slung casually over his shoulder, just bypassed her effortlessly—sidestepping in a flicker, reappearing right in front of the healer without breaking a sweat.

  He leaned in close, whispering low enough that Nephara barely caught it. "Just play dead for a sec, kid."

  Seraphina blinked, stammering, "W-w-what?"

  The man sighed softly. "Nevermind, sorry for this." He raised a hand, murmuring a single word: "Sleep." Seraphina's eyes rolled back, her body going limp as consciousness fled her in an instant, crumpling to the grass like a puppet with cut strings.

  Nephara roared, launching herself at him like a missile, jumping high and slamming her bandaged fists down toward his head with bone-crushing force. But he caught them mid-air, effortless as pie: one fist stopped dead by his thumb, the other pinned by his little finger.

  "It's been way too long, old man John!" Nephara said, her rage flipping into a real, beaming smile.

  The named man chuckled, that exaggerated drawl softening into something warmer. "Indeed!" With a casual shrug, the cloak and robes around him dissolved like mist in the sun, revealing a truly beautiful man beneath.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  He had long, flowing blonde hair catching the light like spun gold, sharp purple eyes, clad in an elegant white robe trimmed with black and gold, a simple cross necklace dangling at his chest.

  Nephara dropped to the ground as he released her, landing lightly and dusting off her hands. "You asshole—scaring the shit out of us for a test? When did you even get back?"

  Sorry, Nipha, but I can't talk right now. The words were heard in Nephara's head, not spoken aloud.

  Then, out loud, the man simply murmured, "Sleep well."

  Nephara's world tilted, vision blurring to black as an invisible force yanked her consciousness away.

  John kept smiling as he gently laid the three unconscious girls out on the soft grass, arranging them side by side like they were napping after a picnic. He extended a hand, palm up, and said: “A comfortable bed."

  Poof, a massive king-sized bed materialized out of thin air in the middle of the field, plush pillows, silk sheets, the works. He scooped them up one by one and placed them on it, tucking a stray hair from Nephara's face with a fond chuckle. Satisfied, he stepped back, admiring his handiwork.

  Then, he plucked a thin lens from one eye and crushed it between his fingers, the shard dissolving into sparkles. "I hope they got what they were looking for," he muttered to himself, rubbing his chin.

  He was truly impressed by their quick thinking, especially for first-years. He'd vouch for these three in his report, no question. But damn, it was unlucky they drew him as their tester. Poor kids didn't stand a chance.

  "John Romano," a familiar voice rumbled from behind him, deep and steady like rolling thunder—serious, always so damn serious.

  John turned, spotting Matthew Steel striding up in his perfect silver armor, gleaming under the sun like it'd been polished by angels. The long gray hair, the trimmed beard, those narrowed blue eyes, yeah, one of the main reasons John didn't like the guy much was that unshakeable seriousness. But respect? Hell yeah, beyond belief. Matthew was a legend for a reason.

  The older man glanced at the unconscious girls sprawled on the bed, eyebrow twitching. "Seriously?"

  John just smiled wider, shrugging. "They deserve it—their teamwork's inspiring. They would have me fooled, if they told me they were just first years."

  Matthew sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose like a disappointed dad. "Nevermind that. I believe this is the first time we've been face to face with each other in a month. I am glad to see your capable hands are in the institute."

  John chuckled, crossing his arms. "Uh hu, you sure as hell know that isn't for long though. As I remember, I have today free, and tomorrow I already gotta travel to Slovenia—by your orders, oh grand overseer of humanity." He said that last part teasingly, drawing out the title like it was a punchline, complete with a mock bow.

  Matthew walked straight past John without slowing down. “Follow me.”

  John blinked, then let out a low, amused chuckle. “You serious right now? We’re just gonna leave three unconscious first-years sprawled on a bed in the middle of the garden?”

  Matthew didn’t stop. “Every member of Class Alpha currently has at least two eyes on them at all times. As of now, Minos Prime Institute is the most secure place in the world.”

  John scoffed, falling into step beside him anyway. “Yeah, that was proven a few days ago.”

  Matthew showed no reaction, continuing forward with that same measured stride. “The system was improved by a tremendous amount since the incident. Also, we have identified the terrorist, and are now aware of his abilities.”

  John stayed quiet, still smiling that easy, unbothered smile. Matthew glanced sideways, clearly waiting for something, yet nothing came.

  “I thought you would have a greater reaction to the news.” Matthew said at last.

  John tilted his head. “Hmm?”

  Matthew stopped walking and turned to face him fully. “You protected Enochia after she fell out with her parents. You acted like a guardian figure to her. Are you not bothered at all?”

  John laughed. “Why should I be?” He shrugged, hands sliding into his pockets. “Death, in the end, is meaningless. Afterlife has been all but confirmed. I taught that kid every good value I believed in. She was snarky, stubborn, but pure and good. There’s no doubt in my mind she’s up there right now, having the time of her life... Well, unlife.”

  Matthew studied him for a long moment, then exhaled through his nose. “That is a relief. Too many people let their emotions blind them. It’s comforting having a man of your way of thinking on our side.”

  John grinned wider, giving a lazy salute. “No doubt.”

  They resumed walking. After a few steps, John spoke again. “Now, tell me about Slovenia. And why the hell must I go there specifically? You made me rush the last Gate, so I’m sure I missed some good experience. I hope it’s for a damn good reason.”

  Matthew’s expression didn’t change, but his tone grew heavier.

  “The Gate near Ljubljana is the largest we’ve ever recorded outside of a Horn event. Energy readings are off the charts. Preliminary scans suggest it may contain up to two Demonic Princes… possibly more.”

  John stopped mid-step.

  For a second the garden was completely silent. Then he threw his head back and laughed. It was a bright, delighted sound that he could not contain.

  “Oh, you are forgiven, Matthew! Thank you for keeping such an exquisite gate for me. I was starting to think you’d only send me to boring little cleanup jobs.”

  Matthew sighed, the sound heavy with months of dealing with this exact reaction. ‘Fool, I only send you to the Gates the Apostles could not safely clear.’

  “Yes… well, I’m not sure if the rest of the Apostles currently in the institute combined could clear that Gate without casualties. That’s why I’m sending you.”

  He turned to face John fully. “Will you go by yourself, as usual?”

  John nodded without hesitation, still grinning like a kid who’d just been handed the keys to a candy store. “Obviously. Anyone I took with me would just be munching off my EXP. I’d have to send them to Mars to keep them out of my way. This one’s gonna be very profitable for me.”

  Matthew studied him for a long moment. “Are you confident that you can clear it?”

  John paused. The playful smile remained, but something sharper flickered behind his eyes. “Yes,” he said simply. “After all… I’m quite strong.”

  ─────────────────────────────

  STATUS

  Name: John Romano

  Title: The Beloved

  Level: 401

  EXP: 399,090 / 401,000

  HP: 20,100 / 20,100

  MANA: 12,090 / 12,090

  STR: 401

  AGI: 401

  VIT: 402

  FAI: 403

  LCK: 401

  DEF: 0

  [ EXP ▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓? ] 99%

  ─────────────────────────────

  Title Effect — The Beloved

  ? The user is destined for this title, and will receive it at level 1

  ? The user receives double stat points from every level up.

  ? When the users total allocated stat points exceed their current level cap, they unlock the ability to freely reassign them at will, bypassing normal distribution restrictions.