Chapter 157 - HA 157

Chapter 872 - Artifact Training 

The air inside the simulated building was thick with tension, the artificial mana field humming faintly as it projected a near-perfect replication of an urban combat zone. Dim lighting, flickering wall panels, and the distant sound of shifting debris completed the illusion of a real war-torn structure.

Julia cracked her knuckles as she leaned against a half-crumbling wall, tapping her foot impatiently while her supposed teammates "discussed strategy."

If you could call it that.

Adrian Langley, the boy on her team, was going on and on about some convoluted positioning tactic he'd clearly pulled out of nowhere. He was animated—too animated for someone whose ideas sounded like a mess of jumbled words with no real substance.

The other one, Rebecca Vale, leaned lazily against the wall, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded like she had already checked out of the entire exercise. It wasn't her first time teaming up with Julia, and like last time, she didn't seem all that interested in contributing.

'Great. One guy who won't shut up about nonsense, and one girl who can't be bothered. I swear, do they assign my teams like this on purpose?'

Julia sighed, rolling her shoulders. She wasn't about to let these two drag her down. Unlike the boring theory sessions, this? This was her domain.

"…and if we funnel them into a crossfire position—" Adrian was still talking, waving his hands around dramatically.

Julia cut him off with a sharp clap of her hands. "Okay, yeah, no. We're not doing that."

Adrian blinked. "Wait, but if we just—"

"Not happening." Julia crossed her arms, fixing him with a pointed look. "You're overcomplicating this. They're not a bunch of slow-moving idiots who are just gonna walk into your perfect little trap."

Adrian frowned. "You don't even know what I was about to suggest."

"I know enough," Julia shot back. "I don't do theory, but I do know when something is dumb."

Rebecca let out a small amused hum from the side.

Julia exhaled and turned back to the map on her wrist device. Third Floor, West Wing. That was the goal.

'Two attacking teams. Two defending teams. Meaning at least three different groups of people in this hole, all of them trying to screw each other over.'

A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.

'Sounds like my kind of game.'

The moment Julia sensed movement, she didn't turn immediately. Instead, she kept her stance relaxed, as if she was still considering Adrian's nonsense plan. But her senses, her instincts—her 'tiger' senses—flared in warning.

A subtle shift in the air. A rhythm in the footsteps that felt too casual, too deliberate.

'They're coming from the left, four of them… No, three. One of them's staying back.'

And just as expected—

"Well, well. What do we have here?"

A smooth, almost mocking voice echoed through the space. Julia tilted her head slightly, her golden eyes flickering toward the newcomers.

Three cadets. All girls.

The one in front, Marissa Lorne, had the air of a leader—short brown hair tied in a neat ponytail, arms crossed, a confident smirk on her lips. She wasn't bulky, wasn't intimidating in size, but her presence? It was sharp.

'This girl is not bad…..I should fight her when I have a chance.'

The other two flanked her, standing at a relaxed but precise distance apart. One had dark green hair, cut just above her shoulders, while the other had a pale blonde bob. They weren't making any sudden moves, but they didn't have to.

Julia already knew.

'They're not here to make friends.'

"Figured we'd find you here," Marissa continued, tilting her head. "I was hoping we'd get a chance to talk before things get… messy."

Julia didn't react immediately. She just lifted a brow. "That so?"

Marissa's smirk widened a fraction. "It is. We were thinking—why not work together? We both have the same goal, after all. No point in wasting energy fighting each other when we could secure the artifact first, then see who's really the strongest."

Adrian perked up slightly. "That actually makes—"

Julia elbowed him.

Hard.

Adrian coughed. "Ow—what the hell?!"

Julia ignored him, eyes never leaving Marissa's. She saw it now—the gleam in those brown irises. The way she phrased her words so carefully. The way her stance remained loose, but not careless.

These girls were not looking for an alliance.

They were looking for an easy way in.

'Leeches,' Julia thought, her smirk stretching. 'Smart leeches, but leeches all the same.'

It wasn't just the way Marissa was talking—it was the way she and her girls didn't look at Adrian or Rebecca. Their focus was entirely on her.

Because they already knew who was worth paying attention to.

And Julia? She had no interest in carrying dead weight.

"Nice offer," she said, casual, like she hadn't already made up her mind. "But I'll pass."

Marissa didn't blink. Didn't even flinch. "That's a shame."

Rebecca, who had been silent the entire time, finally sighed. "Julia."

Julia didn't look at her. "What?"

Rebecca gave her a lazy side-eye. "Are you sure about that?"

Marissa tilted her head slightly, watching.

Julia let out a small laugh. "Oh, I'm real sure."

She stretched her arms out dramatically, before dropping them with a light clap.

"I mean, let's be real. You're not actually here for an equal partnership." She gestured between them. "You're here 'cause you want us to do the hard work, while you slide in at the last minute and pick off whatever's left."

The green-haired girl twitched, ever so slightly.

Marissa's smirk didn't drop.

"That's a rather uncharitable assumption," she said smoothly. "We just thought you'd prefer not wasting your energy on an unnecessary fight."

Julia's smirk widened at Marissa's smooth words, her golden eyes gleaming with amusement.

"If that's what you thought," she said, voice dripping with amusement, "then you must not know me very well."

The air between them tensed for just a fraction of a second. Because everyone knew Julia didn't back down from fights. If anything, she welcomed them.

Her grin sharpened. "A fight is never unnecessary. Doesn't matter who it's against—kicking people's asses is always a good time."

For the first time, Marissa's smirk faltered, just slightly. A subtle twitch of her mouth.

'Ha. Thought so.'

Julia wasn't dumb—she knew Marissa had been feeling her out. Seeing how much she could push, how much leverage she could find. But at the same time, Marissa also knew picking a fight with Julia now would be a bad idea.

So, instead, she exhaled lightly, regaining her composure. "Fine," she said. "Since you're so eager for a fight, why don't we just split the territory? We take the right wing, you take the left. At the very least, we can agree not to get in each other's way—for now."

Julia tilted her head, considering it for all of half a second before shrugging. "Works for me."

Marissa gave a sharp nod before stepping back, gesturing to her teammates. "Then we won't waste any more time."

With that, she and her group turned, heading off down the right corridor without another word.

Julia waited a few seconds, watching them disappear, before letting out a low chuckle.

"Now…"

Pulling up her wrist device, Julia flicked open the digital map of the building. The interface flickered as it projected a rough outline of the structure—corridors, stairwells, floors, and a glowing marker for the artifact room.

Turning toward Adrian and Rebecca, she wasted no time. "Alright, here's how this is going down."

Rebecca let out a slow sigh. "You sound way too excited for this."

Julia just grinned. "Of course, I am. This is the fun part."

She turned the holo-map slightly so they could see, tapping a few key points as she spoke.

"We don't bunker down like idiots. That's how you get swarmed and overwhelmed. We make them think they have a chance—then we shut them down."

Adrian crossed his arms. "And how exactly do we do that?"

Julia pointed at a hallway just before the artifact chamber. "We let them in just enough."

Rebecca raised a brow. "You're suggesting a choke point."

Julia smirked. "Not just any choke point. A death funnel."

Adrian blinked. "A what?"

Julia's grin widened. "A place where they think they can break through—only to realize they've walked straight into their own graves."

She tapped the screen again.

"There are three main ways they'll try to get to us. The central stairwell, the ventilation shaft here—" she flicked to a hidden side passage, "—and this hallway leading from the west wing."

Rebecca hummed. "Most teams will go for the stairwell. It's the easiest route."

Julia nodded. "Exactly. That's why we don't put our focus there. We let them come through. Then, we lock it down and pin them in."

Adrian frowned slightly. "And what if they try the ventilation shaft?"

Julia gave him a look. "Then we make sure they regret it."

Chapter 873 - Artifact Training (2)

A sharp, mechanical chime rang through the training facility, followed by a crisp, authoritative voice over the speakers.

"Building Simulation Exercise commencing in T-minus thirty seconds."

The room hummed with quiet anticipation as cadets adjusted their stances, some stretching, others rolling their shoulders to shake off the tension.

Astron, Asher, and Caden stepped forward toward the designated teleportation gate, a large, circular construct embedded into the ground, glowing with intricate mana runes. The air around it shimmered, charged with energy, waiting to transport them into the simulation.

"All assigned teams, prepare for deployment."

Astron didn't hesitate as he stepped onto the teleport pad, the others following close behind. The moment all three were inside the boundary, a low-frequency hum vibrated through their bones.

The world flickered.

Mana surged around them, folding space itself.

Then, in an instant—they were somewhere else.

As the light faded, the trio found themselves standing before a ghostly building.

The atmosphere was thick with an unnatural stillness, the air heavy with the scent of dust and damp stone. Around them, the entire cityscape felt abandoned—crumbling structures stretched into the misty skyline, broken windows gaping like hollow eyes. Some buildings still had half-standing walls, their interiors exposed to the elements. It was a ruin, a forgotten battlefield.

The architecture was old, twisted by time, with eerie remnants of past conflicts—scorched ground, shattered barriers, lingering mana distortions in the air.

This wasn't just a simple mock battlefield.

It felt like a place where something had happened.

Something real.

Caden whistled low. "Damn… They really went all out on the immersion, huh?"

Astron's gaze swept across their surroundings. He had seen places like this before.

Demon Contractor bases. Dungeons.

Most Artifact Wars weren't conducted in clean, sterile environments. They happened in places like this—old strongholds, underground facilities, ruined cities swallowed by time.

The reason?

Because less populated zones meant fewer civilians caught in the crossfire.

Not that it was always the case—there had been plenty of instances where artifacts surfaced in crowded areas, forcing highly trained Hunters to engage in urban warfare. But those situations required a level of coordination far beyond what cadets were capable of.

This exercise was more grounded. More realistic.

They weren't in a densely populated metropolis.

They were in a dead city.

And in a dead city, only the strongest walked out victorious.

Asher exhaled sharply, shifting his stance. "I see no other cadets."

Caden shrugged, stretching his arms behind his head as he scanned the empty streets. "Well, there's a reason why the teams are divided. They must've started on the other side."

Asher exhaled through his nose, his stance shifting slightly. "Yeah. Figures." He didn't seem too concerned. If anything, he was just waiting for the real action to start.

Astron remained silent, his sharp purple eyes locked onto the ghostly structure before them. Its worn-down exterior, the fractured windows, the barely-standing support beams.

This was where it would begin.

Caden, ever the casual one, tilted his head. "So… we're moving as planned?"

Astron didn't answer immediately, his gaze traced the building's frame. Then, he nodded once. "Yes."

That was all they needed.

Without another word, the trio stepped forward, crossing the ruined threshold of the abandoned structure.

******

The air was still. Too still.

Julia shifted slightly on her perch, perched above the hallway like a cat watching its prey. The simulated environment around them flickered with occasional distortions—a reminder that, despite how real it felt, this was all just an advanced combat exercise.

Still, the tension of waiting was the same.

She could hear Adrian adjusting his grip on his weapon near the stairwell. Too tense. Guy really needed to relax.

And then—

"Ugh. I'm bored."

Rebecca's voice crackled over the comms, making Julia smirk.

"Already?" Julia drawled.

"Yes, already." Rebecca groaned. "We're just sitting here like statues. If someone doesn't show up soon, I might just take a nap."

Julia snorted. "That'd be impressive, considering the incoming fight."

"Eh. It's fine. I'm a light sleeper."

Adrian, ever the nervous one, clicked his mic. "Can we not joke about this? We don't know when they'll—"

"Relax, Langley," Julia interrupted, rolling her shoulders. "You'll live."

Rebecca hummed. "Though, now that I think about it… isn't it kinda weird?"

"What is?" Julia asked, tilting her head slightly.

"This whole thing." Rebecca paused for a second. "This combat sim just popped up out of nowhere. Usually, we don't do full-on scenario-based exercises like this until later in the semester."

Julia blinked. She… hadn't actually thought about that.

"Huh. You've got a point."

Now that she considered it—this was advanced.

The academy did have practical exercises, sure. But this? This was structured almost like a real-world mission. Not just some "capture-the-flag" or basic sparring match—they were defending an objective, strategizing, managing resources.

Adrian hesitated before chiming in. "So… you're saying the academy is pushing things faster than usual?"

"Duh," Rebecca said dryly. "I mean, look at us. This isn't 'normal first-year training.' We're doing tactical planning, structural positioning, even accounting for team dynamics."

Julia shrugged, stretching her arms out as she shifted slightly on her perch. "Yeah, yeah, maybe the academy's pushing things faster," she admitted, "but honestly? Who cares?"

Rebecca made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle. "Of course you don't care."

"Why would I?" Julia grinned, tapping her fingers against the metal beam she was sitting on. "I'm here to fight, have fun, and maybe learn a thing or two along the way. That's what this place is for, right?"

Adrian huffed. "This isn't just some playground, Julia. Some of us actually—"

"Actually what, Langley?" Julia cut in, smirking. "This is still a training exercise. We're supposed to be learning, right? Well, I learn best when I get to kick some ass while I'm at it. And guess what? So far, this new curriculum? It's giving me plenty of opportunities."

Rebecca let out a slow exhale. "I mean… you're not wrong."

Julia swung her legs idly, gaze flickering back to the dimly lit hallways ahead. "Besides, I already know what's coming after I graduate. No point stressing about all this when the path's already set."

She didn't say it like it was some heavy burden—just a fact.

After all, she knew what was waiting for her.

A Hunter for her family's guild. A future spent tracking, fighting, and handling things most people wouldn't dare to touch. And maybe even the head of something bigger.

Did she think too hard about it? No.

Did she care? Again—no.

That was the future. Right now? She still had time. Time to fight, to enjoy the chaos, to sharpen herself while she could.

So if the academy wanted to throw harder training at her? Good. Let them.

Still, she couldn't ignore the fact that Rebecca had a point.

Things were changing. The academy was adjusting their curriculum, pushing cadets harder than expected.

It wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

But it did make Julia wonder—why?

Whatever. She'd figure it out later.

Rebecca was still talking, her voice lazy as ever. "Still, if they keep pushing the curriculum like this, I bet—"

CLANK!

The sound echoed through the hallway. A sharp, metallic impact—something striking against the debris they'd placed earlier.

Then—

"Heh…"

A voice. Amused. Confident. Too confident.

Julia's smirk stretched wide. "Oh, finally."

The wait was over.

Her fingers twitched in anticipation as her golden eyes flickered toward the sound. Right where she expected.

'They really took the bait, huh?'

She knew it. She knew they would try to push Rebecca's side. It was the weakest-looking position—the most obvious to break through.

And now?

They were about to regret it.

Her mind clicked into place, predicting their next moves before they even made them.

'Typical.'

Rebecca had already moved, falling back just slightly—not retreating, but repositioning, letting them think they had the advantage.

Julia grinned. "Langley, hold your position. I got this."

Before Adrian could respond, she kicked off her perch, moving fast.

'!'

But then something warned her.

'Behind?'

There was something behind.

Chapter 874 - Artifact Training (3)

Julia's eyes widened—just for a fraction of a second.

Behind?

Her instincts screamed at her. Something was there.

And yet—when she turned her head, she saw nothing.

Her mana senses weren't picking up anything, no flicker of energy, no shifting presence. The hallway behind her was exactly the same as before. Silent. Empty.

But she knew that was a lie.

Her tiger senses weren't wrong. Something— someone— was there.

Damn. That fast?

Her muscles reacted before her thoughts could catch up.

Without hesitation, she dashed backward, twisting mid-movement, her hand already drawing her sword.

She didn't wait for confirmation. Didn't need to.

Her blade slashed forward, cutting through the air—

CLANK!

Metal met metal. A clean, precise block.

Julia's golden eyes locked onto the person standing in front of her, their weapon held up in a perfect defensive angle.

A young man.

Black hair. Sharp purple eyes.

For a moment, there was only silence between them.

Then Julia's lips parted slightly.

".....Oh....."

Her grip tightened. Her grin sharpened.

"Astron."

The young man barely reacted, his gaze unreadable as always.

Astron stood there, calm as ever, his sword still pressed against hers. But then—

Tch.

A soft sound. Barely audible.

Julia's sharp ears caught it instantly—the faint click of his tongue.

Her gaze flickered downward for the briefest second, just enough to notice—

He was holding the artifact.

A dull silver orb, pulsing faintly with embedded runes, clutched in his other hand.

Julia blinked. Then she let out a short, amused exhale. "You really…"

She didn't finish the sentence. She didn't have to.

She understood now.

Her plan—the entire defensive formation she had set up? He had already read it.

And of course he did.

'Damn, he's good.'

She had coveted this guy for her team. Irina did too. There was a reason for that.

And now? Seeing him move like this, outmaneuvering her expectations?

It made her grin widen.

Slipping past her mana senses? Not many people could do that.

Not many could avoid her completely and still get this close.

But—her tiger senses still caught him.

And thank the gods for that, or else?

This training session would've been over already.

'That would've sucked.'

But now? Now she had him.

Julia's grip tightened. Her golden eyes gleamed with excitement.

"I wanted to fight you for a long time…" she admitted, a slow smirk curling across her lips.

Then, she tilted her head. "But I really didn't expect it would be here."

Without another word, she launched forward.

CLANG!

Her sword slashed down in a vicious arc—fast, sharp.

But—

Astron moved like water.

His daggers snapped up, deflecting her blade at just the right angle, redirecting the force without wasting a single movement.

That wasn't luck. That was skill.

Julia's smirk widened. "Oh, you're fun."

Astron, of course, didn't react. He simply adjusted his stance, shifting the artifact slightly in his grip.

Julia didn't give him a second.

The moment her sword was deflected, she channeled her mana into the blade. A surge of energy crackled through the steel, a faint golden glow lining the edges.

And then she struck again.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

Blow after blow, her blade lashed out—faster, heavier, more relentless.

Astron moved like a shadow, twisting and weaving between strikes, his daggers working overtime to redirect and deflect. But even for him—this was getting harder.

Because Julia was not just some swordsman.

She was one of the best.

Maybe the best in the entire academy.

And right now?

She was going to remind him of that.

Astron sidestepped, narrowly avoiding a deep cut to his ribs.

Julia twisted mid-swing, using the momentum to slam another strike from the opposite direction.

CLANK!

Astron blocked again—but this time, his foot slid back.

Julia's smirk widened.

'Got you.'

She capitalized.

Her sword was longer, stronger, heavier.

Astron could deflect all he wanted—but she had reach.

Step by step, she cornered him, her blade forcing him back, cutting off angles, shutting down his movement.

Astron clicked his tongue, shifting his stance—but he knew it too.

He was running out of space.

And then—

A single miscalculation.

One deflection, just slightly off.

And that was all she needed.

CLANG!

Her blade slammed against his dagger, and the force rippled through his grip.

Astron's fingers twitched.

And in that single instant—

The artifact slipped from his grasp.

It hit the ground with a soft thud, rolling slightly between them.

Julia's golden eyes gleamed.

"Ohhh… you dropped something."

She grinned.

This was getting really fun.

Then she tilted her head, her blue eyes glinting.

"Well, now that your hands are free…" she smirked, adjusting her grip on her sword. "You can focus on fighting me fully, right?"

No hesitation. She dashed forward.

Her mana surged, rippling through her sword as she moved with pure, honed instinct.

"「Sword of Middleton: Three Stripes.」"

The technique was a foundation of Middleton's swordplay, but when perfected? It became a storm.

Three strikes—three precise, lightning-fast slashes, one after another.

The First Stripe—A downward diagonal slash, cleaving the air with brutal efficiency.

The Second Stripe—A horizontal cut, swift as a whisper, meant to cut down retreating enemies.

The Third Stripe—A finishing upward arc, executed with pure force to break an opponent's stance entirely.

And Julia? She had perfected this technique.

Her form was flawless. Her speed? Blinding.

Most people would already be on the ground by the Second Stripe.

But—

CLANG!

Astron reacted.

The instant Julia moved, he reached into his spatial storage—and in a blink, another dagger appeared in his free hand.

He moved to meet her head-on.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

The First Stripe? Blocked.

The Second Stripe? Matched.

The Third Stripe? Parried.

Astron's daggers flickered like silver streaks, intercepting each strike at just the right angles.

Julia's smirk widened. Damn, he's fast.

But—

Even with his speed, his precision, his adaptability—

He was getting pushed back.

Step by step, her power forced him backward.

Each impact sent a shockwave through the air, his stance tightening as he absorbed the force.

For the first time, Astron wasn't just dodging or redirecting.

He was blocking.

Holding ground.

But not winning.

Julia's eyes gleamed.

Julia's strikes didn't slow—if anything, they only grew sharper. But somewhere in the back of her mind, she was… impressed.

She hadn't expected this much resistance.

Sure, she wasn't going all out. She had been treating this as a warm-up, holding back just enough so she wouldn't end the fight too soon.

And yet—he was still standing.

'Huh…'

Her golden eyes flickered with something new—curiosity.

Even though her current level of combat should have flattened someone ranked in the 1000s, he was still keeping up.

'He's not that strong… but yeah. I can see why Ethan and the others speak so highly of him.'

That wasn't something just anyone could do.

Her lips curled into a grin. "You're good."

Astron didn't respond, his expression unreadable, but his stance shifted slightly, adjusting to the next exchange.

Julia let out a low chuckle. "But, I also have my pride, you know."

And with that—

She stopped holding back.

A sudden surge of mana crackled along her blade, intensifying, sharpening. The glow surrounding it pulsed, growing brighter, denser.

And then—

She moved.

Her body blurred as she dashed forward, faster than before.

Astron's purple eyes flickered just slightly.

CLANG!

The first strike—he blocked.

The second—he parried.

The third—he barely deflected.

But the fourth?

It cut through.

A shallow slice along his sleeve—barely a wound, but enough.

Julia's grin widened. "Tch—finally."

She was about to win.

Chapter 875 - Artifact Training (4)

"Tch—finally."

Astron exhaled, his stance shifting lower, more defensive.

But Julia wasn't slowing down.

With every step forward, her attacks came harder, sharper, heavier.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

He was still matching her pace.

But no longer blocking everything.

Her blade was cutting through.

And at this rate?

She was going to bring him down.

Julia's strikes didn't stop.

Her blade carved through the air, relentless, forcing Astron further back. Step by step, her blue eyes tracked his every movement, reading his reactions, adjusting—tightening the noose.

And then—

She sensed it.

The wall.

Her smirk widened.

"That's it, huh?" she exhaled, slowing her swings just slightly, enough to speak. "End of the line, Astron. You've got nowhere left to go."

Astron didn't answer.

Didn't even blink.

Julia tilted her head. "You might as well surrender. Your plan failed."

Still, he remained silent.

And then—

His hand twitched.

Something flashed.

Julia's instincts flared. Danger.

Daggers.

Her body moved before her mind even fully registered it.

She twisted, her sword snapping up in a clean arc—

CLANG! The first dagger—deflected.

CLANG! The second—knocked aside.

CLANG! The third—sent spinning into the air.

Julia let out a sharp exhale, blue eyes narrowing. "That won't stop me."

And then—

Her instincts screamed.

Something was behind the last dagger.

Her eyes widened—

BOOM!

A shockwave ripped through the corridor as a compact explosive sphere detonated midair.

Julia barely had a split second to react.

Her combat instincts—**her sheer, absurdly fast reflexes—**kicked in.

A barrier.

A thin, golden shield of condensed mana flashed into existence around her, just in time to absorb the worst of the explosion.

The force still slammed against her, pushing her back a few steps. Smoke and debris kicked up in the air, obscuring her vision.

But she saw it.

Through the haze—

Astron.

Already beside the window.

His purple eyes locked onto something.

And then—he clenched his fist.

Julia's gaze snapped down.

The artifact—the one still lying on the floor where he had dropped it—

It moved.

It flew straight to his hand.

Her eyes widened. "Telekinesis? No…"

Mana threads.

A barely visible, ultra-thin connection of mana had been wrapped around the artifact from the moment he dropped it.

And now?

He just reeled it back in.

Julia lunged—

But—

Too late.

Astron kicked off the window ledge, leaping into the open air.

Julia rushed forward, skidding to the edge—

Only to see him vanish below, dropping out of sight.

Gone.

She clicked her tongue, gripping the windowsill tightly.

"Damn it."

Her blue eyes flashed with something between irritation and excitement.

She had cornered him. She had been seconds away from winning.

And still—he got away.

Julia exhaled, a sharp laugh escaping her lips.

"Tch… sneaky bastard."

She pushed herself back from the window, rolling her shoulders.

That was fun.

And next time?

She wasn't going to let him slip away.

Julia took a deep breath, shaking off the lingering sting of the explosion. The heat had already faded, leaving only the lingering scent of smoke and the faint static hum of dissipating mana in the air. She clenched her jaw, then let out a sharp exhale before stepping away from the window.

Astron had gotten away.

She didn't like it.

She had him—had him. Cornered, outmaneuvered, pushed back to the wall. But he had slipped through the cracks like damn mist, smooth, calculated, and with zero wasted movement. Even now, she replayed it in her head. The daggers were bait. The real trap had been the moment she thought she won.

Her fingers twitched slightly, but she let the irritation bleed out of her in a slow, controlled breath. She wasn't going to stew over it—not in frustration, at least. No, if anything, it was exciting.

Not many people could make her lose a fight.

Not many could outplay her at her own game.

So Astron? Yeah, she'd remember this. And next time, he wasn't getting away.

Just then, her earpiece crackled to life. A familiar voice cut through the silence.

"Yo, Julia," Rebecca's voice came through, casual but with a sharper edge than usual. "What's the situation on your side?"

Julia snorted. "You're asking me? Shouldn't I be the one asking that?"

Another voice chimed in, this time Damian's, low and steady. "The moment I got to Rebecca's side, the two that were pressuring her retreated. Didn't even try to fight back. They just vanished."

Julia frowned slightly. That meant…

Rebecca sighed, her voice tinged with something bordering on annoyance. "And there's no sign of the last one. The third guy. Couldn't track him at all. He could be on your side."

Julia's blue eyes flicked around the room, scanning the remnants of the battlefield, checking for any lingering shadows in the corners, any hint of movement. But there was nothing. Just the aftershock of her fight with Astron and the faint static of disturbed mana.

Then she laughed. It was a light, almost amused sound.

"Well," she exhaled, dragging a hand through her hair. "Doesn't really matter, does it?"

Rebecca clicked her tongue. "What do you mean?"

"The artifact's already gone." Julia let out another short laugh, shaking her head. "Astron snatched it and jumped out the damn window."

Silence followed.

Then—

"Wait. What?!" Rebecca's voice spiked, completely dropping her usual composed tone.

Damian let out a low hum, processing the information before speaking. "So. We lost."

Julia's smirk twitched, but she didn't deny it.

"Yeah." The admission came out smooth, easy, but there was a sting underneath it. She hated losing. Absolutely loathed it. But she wasn't about to lie about it either. That wasn't her style. She was a fighter, and fighters owned their losses. Nothing scratched her pride worse than making up excuses.

"I had him cornered," she continued, rolling her shoulders. "I was this close. But the bastard had another trick up his sleeve."

Damian let out a slow breath. "Astron, huh?"

Rebecca muttered something under her breath, then sighed. "Well. I guess there's no point in sticking around, then. We're done here."

Damian's voice came through again, his usual composed tone laced with amusement. "That was the guy you wanted on your team, right?"

Julia scoffed, brushing some dust off her sleeves as she turned away from the window. "Yeah, what about it?"

She never hid it. Hell, she had proposed it in front of the whole damn class, causing an uproar that had people talking for days. If anything, she made it pretty damn clear that she wanted Astron in her squad.

Rebecca let out a small chuckle. "Guess he really is talented if he can even outsmart Julia Middleton."

Julia clicked her tongue, not because Rebecca was wrong, but because she hated admitting it. Astron had gotten the best of her this time. That was just a fact.

Damian, of course, had to keep running his mouth. "You should've thought this through more," he mused, his tone that perfect mix of casual and smug. "A guy like that? He's got layers. If you really thought you could just power through him without thinking about what he had up his sleeve—"

Julia let out a short laugh, cutting him off. "Oh, shut up, Damian."

She could already hear the satisfaction in his voice.

But, annoyingly enough, he had a point.

Astron wasn't just strong. He was smart. He had read the battlefield, read her, and set her up without making a single unnecessary move. He had baited her into pushing him to the wall and then flipped the whole damn situation in a split second.

That wasn't just skill. That was foresight.

And that?

That was rare.

She exhaled, tilting her head slightly as she walked. "You think too much. I wasn't looking to scheme. I wanted a fight. And I got one."

Rebecca snorted. "Yeah. And you lost it."

Julia scoffed, running a hand through her hair. "I didn't lose the fight."

Rebecca let out a short laugh. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." Julia shrugged. "He didn't beat me up, didn't knock me out, didn't even land a real hit."

Rebecca hummed, unimpressed. "Mmm. Sure. But to me, it looks like a loss."

Julia's blue eyes narrowed slightly, but she let Rebecca continue.

"He might not have beaten you, but he accomplished his objective. That's what this fight was actually about, wasn't it?"

Julia rolled her shoulders, not answering just yet.

Rebecca, sensing an opportunity, pressed further. "From his side? That's a win. And from your side?" A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. "It just sounds like—"

Julia immediately cut her off.

"Do you want a beating, Vale? I still haven't had my fill."

Rebecca's smirk froze for half a second before she immediately backpedaled.

"Whoa, whoa, I was joking!" She raised her hands in surrender. "Just messing with you! Of course the mighty Julia Middleton never loses!"

Julia clicked her tongue, but a grin tugged at her lips despite herself.

"Damn right," she muttered, stretching her arms.

She knew she lost. She didn't need Rebecca rubbing it in. But letting her have the last word?

Yeah. Not happening.

Chapter 876 - Artifact Training (5)

The air inside the simulation crackled with heat, the scent of scorched stone and seared metal thick in the confined space. Embers drifted lazily through the ruined corridor, a lingering trace of Irina's flames as she stood in the center of her defensive formation, golden eyes sharp and calculating.

The right wing was hers to defend.

And she was doing just that—holding her ground against not one but two attackers who had decided to team up in a desperate attempt to overpower her.

One of them was a tank, a broad-shouldered brute covered in reinforced mana armor. His sheer durability made him a menace, and the way he stomped forward—each step absorbing the force of her heatwaves—was infuriating. The other was a spearman, agile and precise, his long reach making him a constant threat from behind the tank's defense.

They weren't reckless. No, they were methodical. The spearman probed her defenses with quick, precise thrusts, forcing her to react, while the tank absorbed the brunt of her flames, using his sheer presence to slowly, steadily, inch forward.

It was a good plan. A solid strategy.

Too bad it wouldn't work.

Irina twirled her fingers, and the flames coiling around the battlefield suddenly surged, cutting off their angles of approach. The tank grunted as the temperature spiked, the ground beneath him glowing a dull red from residual heat. His armor flickered with defensive enchantments, resisting the worst of the flames, but even he had limits.

The spearman, sensing an opportunity, lunged forward in a blur of motion. His spear shot through the air, aimed straight for her flank—fast, but predictable.

Irina's body moved before thought.

SWIRL!

A fiery vortex erupted from beneath her, a controlled explosion of heat that blasted outward. The sudden pressure sent the spear's trajectory off-course, the tip veering inches away from her ribs. She pivoted sharply, twisting her body with the motion, and with a flick of her wrist—

FWOOSH!

A wave of flame followed her motion, swallowing the spearman's position. He barely had time to retreat, the heat singeing the edge of his uniform as he leapt back, breath sharp.

"Damn it—! She's controlling too much space!" the spearman hissed, glaring at the inferno between them.

"She can't hold it forever," the tank growled, mana reinforcing his body as he pressed forward another step. "We push at the same time. One solid break and she's done."

Irina scoffed under her breath. Push?

She tightened her grip, her flames roaring higher in response to her will. The sheer heat density in the air made it nearly impossible for them to move forward without consequence. Even the tank, despite his defenses, was cooking inside his armor.

They didn't get it.

This wasn't about burning them alive. It wasn't even about defeating them outright.

This was about control.

"Alright then," she muttered, her smirk sharp as she raised her hands. "Come and break it."

SWOOSH!

The flames shifted—not outward, but inward.

Her fire curled toward the walls, the floor, the ceiling—embedding itself into the very structure of the right wing. The temperature didn't just rise; the entire battlefield became part of her domain.

The spearman hesitated. "Wait—"

CRACK!

A wall of flame erupted behind him. The hallway was no longer a battlefield—it was a furnace.

Irina's flames weren't just a barrier anymore. They were cage bars.

"You're locked in," she said, her voice laced with amusement.

For the first time, the tank hesitated. His breath came heavier now, his armor hissing as heat threatened to melt through the reinforced plating. The spearman, eyes flickering between the closing walls of fire, clenched his teeth.

They needed to force a breakthrough.

And they needed to do it now.

BOOM!

The tank made his move, exploding forward with raw force. A burst of mana surged from his body as he slammed his gauntlet-covered fist into the ground—

A shockwave tore through the right wing.

The pressure ripped apart the closest flames, shoving the heat back for a brief moment. The spearman capitalized immediately, his spear gleaming as he lunged—

A perfect, coordinated attack.

…

But Irina was already moving.

The moment the tank punched the ground, she stepped backward, letting the force of the blast push her away while simultaneously preparing her next move.

The spearman, expecting her to be staggered, went for the kill—his spear lunging toward her now-unprotected chest.

Irina's smirk widened. Checkmate.

FLICK!

She snapped her fingers.

BOOM!

The ground beneath the spearman ignited.

A pillar of flame erupted from below, swallowing him in an instant. The impact threw him off balance, his spear missing by mere inches as his body was hurled back by the concussive force of the explosion.

The tank, seeing his teammate getting blasted away, roared and charged forward—

Irina spun, raising both hands—

CRASH!

A fire-forged barrier slammed into place right in front of him, the sudden wall of heat forcing him to halt before he could smash through. The sheer heat distortion caused his armor to shimmer, the intense thermal energy reaching its limit.

For a brief moment, the tank stood frozen—caught between his own momentum and the impenetrable barrier of heat in front of him.

Irina's golden eyes gleamed. "Looks like you're overheating."

And with a final flick of her wrist—

The flames collapsed inward.

The tank's roar turned into a guttural curse as the heat suffocated his movement. His armor's defensive mana flickered one last time—and then failed.

THUD.

He dropped to one knee, breath ragged, his body trembling from heat exhaustion.

The spearman, still recovering from the earlier explosion, gritted his teeth in frustration. "Damn it…"

Irina lowered her hands, her flames slowly retreating, coiling around her like a predator satisfied with its hunt.

"I'd call that a defense," she said, tilting her head slightly, her tone utterly casual.

The tank grunted but didn't get up. He knew it. They'd lost.

The spearman huffed, frustrated but unable to deny the outcome. "We never stood a chance, huh?"

Irina smirked. "Nope."

The tank exhaled heavily, shaking his head. "I guess he was right. We really wouldn't be able to win against her even if we attacked together."

Irina barely paid him any attention, her golden eyes narrowing as she relaxed her stance. Right. Because obviously, that was how this was going to end.

But then—

SLASH!

A sharp, unnatural shift in the air.

Irina's instincts flared.

Danger.

She twisted—fast—her entire body moving on pure reflex as her mind caught up to the impossibly quick blade slicing toward her from behind.

Her golden eyes widened.

'This is…'

It wasn't just speed. It wasn't just precision.

That strike—felt unnatural.

Too clean. Too precise. Too calculated.

Her gaze snapped to the side just as the faint shimmer of an illusion dissipated from the air like mist being blown away.

And standing there, holding a gleaming blade—

Lucas Middleton.

His white hair was slightly disheveled from movement, but his blue eyes remained sharp—calm, yet glinting with amusement. In his other hand, resting easily against his hip—

The artifact.

The very thing this entire exercise revolved around.

Her artifact.

Irina's breath caught, fury already coiling in her chest.

"Lucas?"

Lucas flicked his blade once, a subtle movement, before resting it lazily against his shoulder. His smirk was light, casual, but his posture was anything but relaxed.

"As expected…" he mused. "The illusion didn't hold for too long."

Irina's heart pounded. Illusion?

'No—'

It clicked.

The tank and spearman—they had been distractions. Not just to break her defense but to keep her attention locked here.

While Lucas had been moving silently through the battlefield. Watching. Waiting.

That strike wasn't meant to hit. It was to force her to react. To make her shift her attention—just long enough.

And now—

Lucas lifted the artifact slightly, twirling it between his fingers before tucking it into his belt. "But, I guess you let your guard down a little bit."

His smirk deepened.

"See ya."

And then—

He moved.

No—he vanished.

A streak of silver blurring through the burning air, too fast, too precise. Even for Irina's reaction time—even for her flames—Lucas was already several meters away before she could fully process it.

Her golden eyes burned with rage.

"LUCAS!"

Her flames erupted, spiraling outward in a wave of raw, blistering heat—but he was already gone.

Faster than before.

That realization made her teeth grind, her hands clenching into fists as the searing heat coiled uselessly around her.

He wasn't supposed to be that fast.

He was always quick, Middleton swordsmen were famed for their speed, but that was—something else.

Something that made her insides twist.

And just like that—

Irina stood alone in the right wing. The battlefield still hers.

But the artifact?

Gone.

"….."

Her hands clenched.

Her flames, which had been lashing wildly, still coiled around her like a storm barely restrained. The entire battlefield was hers. She had dominated. She had controlled everything.

And yet—

She still lost.

The fact sat in her stomach like molten iron, searing its way into every nerve. After all of that. Every calculation, every second of precise mana control, the way she had perfectly held the entire right wing on her own—

And it still wasn't enough.

Her breathing was steady, but her anger wasn't.

Her golden eyes flickered dangerously, turning toward the only two remaining idiots in her line of sight.

The tank and the spearman.

The two who had been fighting her. The two who should have been keeping an eye on the rest of the battlefield.

"You."

Just one word. One simple syllable, spoken low, but thick with heat.

The tank, still on his knee, looked up. His expression froze. The spearman, now half-standing, also went rigid.

The heat spiked.

The flames that had been slowly dying flared back to life.

And in that moment, both of them realized something.

She wasn't holding back anymore.

The temperature surged, the air turning suffocating in an instant. A warning—a silent, deadly promise of what was about to happen.

Sweat dripped from the spearman's forehead. The tank, already struggling from heat exhaustion, visibly flinched as the sheer pressure of mana settled over them like a death sentence.

Neither of them thought.

They just moved.

"Ah—WE SURRENDER!"

TAP. TAP.

Both of them slammed their smartwatches, the surrender signal activating instantly.

A second later, a faint blue holographic shield shimmered around their bodies—system-protected from further combat.

Irina's eyes twitched.

Her flames snapped backward, halting a breath away from charring them both.

For a long moment, there was only the crackling of embers.

Chapter 877 - Artifact Training (6)

Sylvie stared at her academy portal screen, her breath catching slightly as she processed the names listed under her assigned team.

Sylvie Gracewind—Layla Everett—Ethan Hartley.

For a moment, she blinked in surprise.

I actually got lucky.

Layla was Layla. Someone that she was familiar with being her friend.

And then, there was Ethan Hartley.

Sylvie glanced toward the approaching figure, his familiar hazel eyes gleaming with friendly amusement as he made his way toward them. Ethan carried himself with an easy confidence, his relaxed stride making him stand out even among the clusters of cadets forming their teams. Unlike the more cutthroat students, Ethan had a reputation for being approachable, his tactical skills matched with a natural charisma that made him an effortless leader.

As he neared, his gaze flickered toward Sylvie, his friendly smile never faltering. "Hey, Sylvie," he greeted casually, giving her a nod. "Looks like we're on the same team."

Sylvie nodded in return, adjusting the strap of her bag as she met his gaze. "Yeah, looks like it."

Ethan's eyes shifted to the girl standing next to Sylvie. Layla was observing him with a neutral expression, her sharp blue eyes steady. Unlike Sylvie, who at least had some level of familiarity with Ethan, Layla looked as though she had no opinion on him whatsoever—simply analyzing him the way she would any other teammate.

Ethan chuckled slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm guessing you're Layla, then?" He extended a hand, his expression apologetic. "Sorry for not knowing earlier. I've seen you around but never caught your name."

Layla stared at his hand for a brief moment before finally shaking it. Her grip was firm, her voice composed. "Layla Everett. And don't worry about it."

Ethan grinned. "Well, now I know. And since we'll be working together, I'm glad to be teamed up with you both."

Layla studied Ethan for a brief moment before offering a small smile in return. "Glad to be working with you too," she said, her tone more relaxed now. Despite Ethan's easygoing confidence, Layla didn't sense any arrogance from him—just a genuine, natural charm that made it hard to dislike him.

After shaking his hand, she turned to Sylvie, her green eyes lighting up slightly as she greeted her. "And you—it's nice that we're together for this. At least I know I've got someone reliable watching my back."

Sylvie smiled softly, nodding. "Yeah, I feel the same."

Of all the possible team assignments, this was one she was genuinely comfortable with. She had been prepared for the possibility of being paired with someone completely unfamiliar—or worse, someone difficult to work with. But with Layla and Ethan, she felt a sense of ease.

Layla, ever the energetic one, tapped Sylvie lightly on the shoulder. "Guess that means we're both stuck making sure he doesn't do anything reckless."

Ethan let out a small gasp, placing a hand over his heart. "Reckless? Me?"

Sylvie chuckled at his dramatics while Layla smirked. "I mean, you do have that 'natural leader' vibe going on. People like you tend to get overconfident."

Ethan raised an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly as if genuinely curious. "Really? I come off like that?"

There was no irritation in his voice—just genuine surprise. He blinked, processing Layla's words as if this was the first time anyone had ever told him such a thing.

Layla, who had been expecting him to brush it off with another joke, stared at him for a moment in mild awe. "Wait, you didn't know?"

Ethan shrugged, running a hand through his dark blond hair. "I mean, I try to be confident, sure. But overconfident?" He shook his head with an easy smile. "That's news to me."

Sylvie, standing beside them, instinctively glanced at Ethan's emotional aura through her [Authority]. As usual, there was nothing dark or misleading there—no hidden arrogance, no irritation at being called out, no masked emotions trying to play off something deeper. Just pure anticipation, curiosity, and… mild amusement.

He really had been unaware.

Layla folded her arms, studying him with an expression of disbelief. "You seriously didn't know? You walk into a room like you already have the whole situation under control."

Ethan laughed at that, shaking his head. "I think you're giving me too much credit. I just go with the flow, really."

Sylvie found herself smiling slightly. That's just who he is, she thought. Ethan had this natural way of making people comfortable, of making things seem easier than they really were. His confidence wasn't forced—it was the kind that came from someone who simply trusted in himself and those around him.

Layla huffed, shaking her head in mild exasperation. "Well, just don't go running ahead and getting yourself into trouble. If you're going to be our leader, at least make sure we don't have to rescue you."

Ethan grinned, placing a hand over his chest. "I solemnly swear I will do my best not to get us all killed."

Sylvie chuckled softly at their exchange, the tension from earlier fully melting away. I really did get lucky with this team.

As their conversation continued, the anticipation in the room grew. The simulation was coming up soon, and with a team like this, Sylvie had a feeling things were about to get interesting.

Ethan stretched his arms slightly before resting his hands on his hips, his hazel eyes gleaming with easy confidence. "Alright, so here's the deal," he began, his tone casual but assured. "We don't need to waste time overcomplicating things. None of us specialize in stealth, so sneaking around isn't exactly going to be our strength."

Sylvie blinked at that, a stray thought flickering in her mind. Astron would have been perfect for that, she mused briefly. He was a natural at moving unnoticed, his presence seemingly disappearing when he wanted it to. But she quickly pushed the thought aside. That's not relevant right now.

Ethan continued, completely unaware of her distraction. "Since we can't play this quietly, the best option is to hit fast and hit hard. Layla and I will take the front, keeping the pressure on, while you act as our enchanter, Sylvie." He looked at her, his expression open and expectant. "How does that sound?"

Sylvie considered it for a brief moment before nodding. "It makes sense," she agreed. "If I reinforce you both with my enchantments, you'll be able to push through faster."

Layla nodded after a moment of thought, cracking her knuckles. "Sounds good to me. I've never really tested my abilities as a tank in a formation against fellow cadets before, but I should be fine." Her sharp blue eyes gleamed with anticipation. "Besides, if brute force is the plan, I'm more than ready for it."

Ethan grinned. "That's what I like to hear."

Sylvie adjusted the strap of her bag and exhaled softly. "Alright, let's go with that, then. I'll focus on keeping your defenses up, and you two can clear a path."

Ethan gave an approving nod. "Simple and effective. We'll adapt if we need to, but for now, we stick with the plan."

With their strategy set, they headed toward the entrance of the simulation building. The massive structure loomed ahead, its digital framework glowing faintly under the influence of the mana-link system. From the outside, it resembled a run-down urban battlefield—crumbled walls, shattered windows, exposed interiors. The environment was intentionally unstable, designed to force cadets into high-stress decision-making.

The moment they stepped inside, the air shifted. The mana simulation hummed around them, fully immersing them into the battlefield.

Ethan tapped the side of his wristband, scanning the environment. "Alright, artifact's location should be deeper in. The moment we grab it, other teams will start converging. So we hit first, hit fast, and keep moving."

Layla smirked. "Sounds like my kind of plan."

Sylvie took a breath, her yellow mana flickering softly around her fingers as she prepared to support them. "Let's do this."

And with that, the three of them charged forward, brute-forcing their way through the battlefield.

Layla led the way, her stance unyielding as she absorbed incoming attacks from enemy cadets. Her shield pulsed with reinforced mana, blocking an onslaught of strikes as she pushed forward. Ethan moved seamlessly beside her, his agility making him a difficult target while delivering quick, efficient counterattacks.

At least that was how it was supposed to be yet the reality was different.

BOOM!

In front of them stood a giant man with a huge hammer.

"Carl."

It was Carl.

SWOOSH!

And at the same time, arrows were flying over their heads.

"Lilia."

The enemy was really unbalanced….

Chapter 878 - Artifact Training (7)

BOOM!

The impact sent a tremor through the battlefield, dust kicking up as the massive figure of Carl stepped forward, his war hammer resting heavily against the ground. His broad frame exuded sheer power, the faint glow of mana radiating from his weapon as he rolled his shoulders.

Carl.

As if that wasn't enough, the sharp whistling of arrows sliced through the air, forcing Ethan to instinctively duck. His gaze flickered upward, catching sight of a familiar figure perched high on the remnants of a crumbled building, her bow drawn with deadly precision.

Lilia.

Ethan's chest tightened slightly. He had expected a challenge, but this… this was ridiculous.

'Are you kidding me?'

His mind raced as he took in the situation. Carl, a powerhouse who specialized in brute force and area control, and Lilia, an elite archer with unparalleled precision and speed. Both of them were rankers, the type of cadets who could single-handedly turn the tide of a battle.

And what did they have?

Layla—capable, sure, but nowhere near Carl in raw strength. Sylvie—an exceptional enchanter, but not suited for direct combat. And him…

His jaw clenched.

He was the strongest in their team.

Yet, Carl outranked him. Lilia outranked him. Their opponents weren't just strong individually; their synergy was lethal. One controlled the battlefield with overwhelming strength, the other suppressed movement with unrelenting precision.

It wasn't fair.

'Who the hell put this match-up together? How does this even make sense?'

SWOOSH!

Another arrow zipped past, barely missing his shoulder.

Ethan's instincts kicked in. Move. Now.

TAP!

He kicked off the ground, diving behind a fallen pillar for cover as another volley of arrows rained down. The air crackled with tension, the simulation's mana-infused battlefield humming around them. He peeked out, his mind already working through possible counters.

BOOM!

Carl took a step forward, the ground practically trembling beneath his weight. The hammer in his grasp radiated power, mana visibly coursing through it like veins of molten energy.

Ethan's fingers curled tighter around his spear. A tank. A damn near indestructible one.

Sure, in a drawn-out fight, he could probably find a way to chip Carl down. Spear against a heavy weapon. Agility against raw endurance. In a real battle, patience could be his weapon.

But in a time-limited simulation?

'Not happening.'

SWOOSH!

Another arrow whistled through the air. Tch. Lilia wasn't just keeping her distance—she was dictating the fight. Every time he thought about advancing, she shut it down before he even moved.

'One brute to lock us down. One sniper to pick us apart. This is suffocating.'

Ethan exhaled sharply, forcing his mind to focus. He wasn't alone.

"Layla, up to the front!" His voice cut through the chaos.

Layla didn't hesitate, immediately stepping forward, her shield raised.

"Sylvie, enchant her," he continued. "But don't burn through your mana—save some for me."

Sylvie's hands were already glowing before he even finished speaking. Golden light wrapped around Layla's form, reinforcing her defenses with a soft hum of energy.

Ethan's mind whirred.

Irina had scouted Sylvie before.

And if Irina Emberheart thought Sylvie was worth her time…..then Ethan would trust that judgment.

He had no clue how much Sylvie could handle, but she had to be good.

Now, they just needed to shift the fight.

Ethan's eyes locked onto Carl.

'We don't fight him. We delay him.'

BOOM!

Carl moved. Not rushed—just one heavy step forward, but it was enough. Enough to make the air around them feel suffocating, enough to remind Ethan that going through him wasn't an option.

'Damn it. We have to go around.'

His instincts screamed at him. They had to move past Carl and take out Lilia first.

Ethan knew his own limits. Even with his agility, going head-to-head with Lilia was a death sentence if she had the time to set up. And Carl? Carl was a living wall. He didn't need to chase them down—he just had to be there.

Ethan's eyes snapped to Layla.

"Go!"

Layla rushed forward, shield raised, golden mana shimmering around her form. She let out a sharp battle cry as she met Carl's strike—

BOOM!

The hammer slammed into her shield like a meteor, the impact sending a deafening shockwave through the battlefield.

"Ghk—!"

Layla skidded back instantly, boots digging trenches into the dirt. Even with Sylvie's enhancement, the sheer force of Carl's swing made her stumble.

But she held.

Ethan didn't waste time.

TAP!

He shot forward, using the distraction to weave around Carl. Fast, sharp movements, his spear angled low as he closed the distance. Lilia was still perched on the ruins, nocking another arrow—

SWOOSH!

Too late.

The sky darkened with incoming arrows.

Ethan gritted his teeth and kept moving—but then—

RUMBLE!

The ground shook violently beneath his feet.

'Shit—!'

His footing went unstable, the once-solid terrain now betraying him. A controlled tremor.

[Seismic Crash.]

Carl wasn't just a tank—he had control.

Ethan's body tilted—his stance breaking—

'No.'

TAP!

He twisted, spear stabbing into the ground as an anchor.

STAB!

The vibration rattled through his arms, but he didn't fall. Didn't stop. He balanced himself.

But then—

SWOOSH! SWOOSH! SWOOSH!

Arrows. Too many.

Lilia wasn't giving him room to breathe. He barely brought his spear up in time—

CLANG! CLANG!

Deflecting what he could—but some were too fast.

Too precise.

'Damn—!'

Then—

A golden hue.

It wrapped around him, pulsing softly— and the moment the next set of arrows struck—

THUNK! THUNK!

The projectiles bounced away, deflected mid-air.

Ethan blinked.

"…Oh?"

His eyes flicked back toward Sylvie—who was watching him intently, golden energy still trailing from her fingertips.

'So this is what Irina saw in her.'

His grin returned.

'Alright. Let's make this count.'

Ethan didn't waste a second.

Mana surged through his legs, crackling like restrained lightning beneath his skin. His entire body felt lighter, sharper.

Spear of Hartley—Phantom Stride!

TAP!

He vanished from his previous position, exploding forward with a burst of speed.

SWOOSH! SWOOSH! SWOOSH!

The arrows still rained down, but Ethan wove between them, his movements erratic, unpredictable. A blur of motion, cutting through the battlefield like a wraith.

Then he noticed it.

The golden hue surrounding him—it was fading.

Not completely gone, but thinner.

His gaze flicked toward Lilia for just a fraction of a second.

She was adjusting.

'She's altering her mana infusion?'

That was insane. He knew she was a top ranker, but adapting mid-fight to break through Sylvie's enchantments? That was a whole different level.

'Well, I kinda expected that…..This is Lilia after all….'

Ethan clenched his jaw.

Then I'll have to do the same.

The spear in his grip shifted. He loosened his stance—let his arms relax just enough.

Then—

TAP! TAP! TAP!

He spun the spear.

The motion started slow, but within seconds, the weapon became a whirling blur in front of him. A makeshift shield—his own countermeasure to the barrage.

Lilia's arrows, already cutting through Sylvie's protection, now had another obstacle.

CLANG! CLANG! THUNK!

Some bounced off the spear's rapid motion. Others barely grazed him.

Not perfect. But enough.

Ethan kept moving.

Lilia's gaze sharpened. She saw the adjustment—and she was already countering again.

She wasn't just a sniper.

She was a duelist.

Ethan exhaled sharply.

This isn't going to be easy.

But that was fine.

He never wanted it to be.

Lilia nocked another arrow. Carl was shifting, preparing to move.

And Ethan wasn't stopping.

He had one job.

Close the gap.

ROOOOAR!

The sound hit him like a tidal wave, reverberating through his skull. Ethan's entire body froze, his instincts screaming at him as his momentum suddenly shifted—not forward, but back.

'What—?'

His legs moved against his will, his body being pulled toward the source of the roar.

Carl.

'Shit—TAUNT SKILL.'

GRAVITY COMMAND—IRON ORDER.

Carl's entire form pulsed with mana, his skill yanking Ethan toward him like a magnet. The moment his feet left the ground, Ethan knew—this wasn't a simple pull. Carl's control over battlefield presence was absolute. He wasn't letting Ethan past him.

He fought against the pull, trying to plant his spear into the ground, but—

SWOOSH!

His gaze snapped toward Lilia just as she released another arrow.

This one was different.

He felt it before he even saw it. The sheer concentration of mana twisting around the projectile, a condensed, spiraling force of destruction. The air itself whistled sharply, almost shrieking as the arrow cut through it.

If that hits, I'm done.

Ethan gritted his teeth, but his body wouldn't move in time. Carl's taunt had him locked in place—his momentum shifting toward the tank instead of dodging the arrow.

'Enemy team is really unbalanced... How unlucky…'

He braced himself.

Then—

A warmth.

A pulse of energy wrapped around his mind, his body.

A sudden clarity.

His body was still mid-motion, but the force pulling him back toward Carl was gone.

Ethan's gaze flicked instinctively to the side—

And he saw her.

Sylvie.

Her green eyes glowed with a golden hue, sharp and unwavering. Mana rippled outward from her, latching onto him, cleansing him.

'Cleansing effect? She had already reached this level?'

This wasn't just basic support magic. This was high-tier state cleansing.

Something that even veteran healers in the Hartley Guild struggled to achieve.

Ethan barely had time to process it.

His body was his own again.

No hesitation.

He moved.

TAP!

His foot dug into the ground, force redirecting just as Lilia's arrow ripped past the space where he had been.

BOOM!

The impact behind him was massive, cratering the earth where the shot had landed.

Too close.

Ethan exhaled sharply.

Sylvie had just saved his life.

His grip tightened around his spear.

'Alright... Now I owe you one.'

His eyes locked onto Lilia once more.

And he sprinted forward.

Chapter 879 - Artifact Training (8)

TAP! TAP! TAP!

Ethan moved. Fast. His body cut through the battlefield like a blade, Lilia's form drawing closer with every second.

She was already adjusting, repositioning atop the ruined structure, bowstring pulled back—but something was off.

Her aim wasn't on him.

It was on Sylvie.

Ethan's eyes narrowed.

'So she realized it too.'

Lilia wasn't just a sniper—she was an intelligent one. She had figured it out. Sylvie was the problem.

She was the reason Ethan was still in the fight.

And now Lilia was about to take her out.

Ethan gritted his teeth.

'Not happening.'

His feet pushed harder against the ground, the distance between him and Lilia closing in an instant—

Then—

A figure appeared between them.

CLANG!

Sparks flew as a sword blocked his spear mid-thrust.

Ethan's momentum stopped abruptly, his eyes flicking toward the new obstacle in his path.

A girl stood before him, blade raised, feet planted firmly. She had been waiting for him.

And she was smiling.

"Oh… Who would have thought I'd be against Ethan Hartley?" she mused, tilting her head slightly. "But I guess I can't complain with this team."

Her voice was casual, almost amused—like she wasn't standing in front of one of the highest-ranked combatants in their year.

Ethan's mind worked fast.

Jasmine.

That was her name.

He had seen her before. She was always near Sylvie. A swordsman, quick-footed, capable—but not someone he had considered a major threat.

Not until now.

She shifted her stance, blade gleaming with a faint trace of mana.

Ethan didn't hesitate.

No mercy.

TAP!

He exploded forward.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

Eight moves.

That was all it took.

Ethan outpaced her instantly, weaving through her defenses like they barely existed.

She parried once. Twice.

But by the third strike—she was too slow.

By the fourth—her footwork was broken.

By the fifth—her guard was open.

By the sixth—her sword was forced wide.

By the seventh—his spear was already in position.

By the eighth—she was down.

THUD!

Jasmine collapsed onto the ground, her blade knocked from her grasp, her breath heavy as she stared up at him.

Ethan didn't give her a second glance.

His eyes were already locked back onto Lilia.

And he moved again.

THUD!

Jasmine hit the ground, her sword slipping from her grasp as she exhaled sharply.

She wasn't hurt—Ethan hadn't needed to go that far. But she was defeated.

Still, she smiled.

"Lasting eight moves against Ethan Hartley…" she muttered between breaths, eyes flickering with something like amusement. "Not bad…"

Ethan barely registered her words.

His gaze had already snapped back to Lilia.

And the moment he did—

His stomach dropped.

She had recovered.

The eight moves he had spent on Jasmine… had given her time.

Lilia's bow was already raised, another arrow nocked, her mana rippling around it. The last one was strong—but this one?

It was worse.

SWOOSH!

Ethan moved. Fast.

His entire body reacted before his mind could even process it—his instincts screaming at him to dodge. He barely twisted his torso, feeling the arrow brush past his ribs, the sheer force of the mana surrounding it cutting through the air like a blade.

He narrowly avoided it.

Or so he thought.

—Wait.

Something was wrong.

His eyes barely caught the shift—the arrow bent.

It changed trajectory mid-flight.

'That's not possible.'

But it didn't matter if it was possible or not—it was happening.

Before he could fully grasp the reality of what was unfolding, the arrow struck.

THUD!

A sharp pressure slammed into his side, a force that shouldn't have been there. His breath left him instantly, body recoiling from the impact. It wasn't pain—it was pure displacement.

His surroundings blurred.

The battlefield—the sound of distant clashes—everything faded.

The next thing he knew—

Darkness.

The simulation had ended.

He was out.

His mind reeled, but his body remained frozen. The system had declared his loss, cutting him off from the battlefield. It was over.

His team had been eliminated.

They had lost.

Ethan stared blankly at the darkened screen in front of him, his heart hammering against his chest.

'I… messed up.'

He could feel it—the weight of failure settling over him like an unwelcome burden.

Sylvie had already been taken out. The moment he lost track of her aura, he should have known—should have realized.

Jasmine had slowed him down. He had wasted just enough time for Lilia to recover, and that had sealed their fate.

He had been outplayed.

Ethan let out a slow breath, forcing himself to push past the frustration clawing at his chest.

No excuses.

He just wasn't good enough.

Not this time.

*****

Sylvie's heart pounded in her chest, her breath steady but quick as the simulated battlefield flickered into existence around them. The digital skyline loomed over them, and the weight of mana woven into the very fabric of the simulation hummed beneath her feet.

'Stay calm. Focus. You trained for this.'

Ethan and Layla were already in motion, their stances firm, their presence commanding. But Sylvie wasn't a frontliner. She was their enchanter—the one who ensured they could push past their limits.

And she had trained for this.

With the Headmaster.

Weeks Ago…

"Your enchantments are too linear, Sylvie."

Headmaster Arcwright's sharp voice echoed in the training hall as he observed her from behind his desk, fingers steepled in thought. The room's faint mana glow shimmered around them, amplifying the weight of his presence.

Sylvie clenched her fists. She had spent hours perfecting her technique, yet it still wasn't enough. "But my enhancements work—"

"They do," Arcwright interrupted, his gaze unyielding. "But predictably. Anyone experienced will adjust once they realize what you're doing. You need layered reinforcement. Adaptive enchantments."

Sylvie exhaled sharply, absorbing his words. He wasn't wrong. A fixed boost was effective, but a smart opponent—one like Lilia—would dismantle it with precision.

"Think of your enchantments like a shifting tide," Arcwright continued. "They must respond to the battlefield, not just empower. Use your surroundings. Use yourself. Do you understand?"

'I do now,' Sylvie thought, snapping back to the present as the battle began.

BOOM!

Carl's war hammer slammed into the ground, shaking the battlefield with a force that sent shockwaves through Sylvie's legs. The sheer weight of his presence was suffocating, and from above, Lilia rained down suppression fire, her arrows weaving through the air with deadly precision.

Ethan and Layla were already reacting, their movements fluid, calculated. But Sylvie wasn't idle.

Her mana flared to life, golden energy crackling around her fingertips as she activated her first enchantment.

[Adaptive Fortification: Resonance]

A golden glow spread from her hands, wrapping around Layla like a protective veil. But unlike before, this time it didn't settle into a single effect. Instead, it pulsed, shifting with each impact—hardening when Carl struck, absorbing shock when the tremors threatened to break Layla's footing.

'A shifting tide,' Sylvie reminded herself, adjusting the flow.

Layla gritted her teeth, pushing forward against Carl's overwhelming strength. "Not bad," she muttered under her breath. "I barely felt that hit."

Ethan darted forward, spear in hand, dodging the initial volley of arrows. But Sylvie knew Lilia wouldn't miss for long.

'Ethan's next. He needs speed.'

Golden light flared again as she redirected her mana, sending another enchantment cascading over Ethan.

[Kinetic Acceleration: Phantom Step]

A rush of air followed as Ethan's entire form flickered, his movements growing sharper, faster. His spear became an extension of his body, weaving through Lilia's arrows with movements almost too quick for the eye to follow.

Sylvie exhaled. 'This is working.'

But then—

BOOM!

A deep vibration rattled the battlefield. The ground trembled beneath them as Carl activated his [Seismic Crash], throwing the balance of the fight into chaos.

Sylvie staggered slightly but adjusted, mana flowing into her legs.

[Equilibrium: Counterbalance]

Her footing stabilized just in time to see Ethan falter.

'No—he's stuck!'

Carl's [Iron Order: Gravity Command] had taken effect, pulling Ethan toward him like a magnetic force. The moment Ethan's momentum shifted, Sylvie knew what was coming.

Lilia had already adjusted.

She wasn't aiming at Ethan anymore.

She was aiming at her.

Sylvie's breath hitched. The arrow was already mid-flight, shimmering with condensed mana.

'She knows. She knows I'm the real problem.'

For a split second, fear gripped her. Lilia was a top-ranked sniper for a reason—if this hit, it wouldn't just knock her out. It would erase her from the fight entirely.

But then—

'No. Think. Adapt.'

Her hands moved before her thoughts could catch up, golden light surging from her fingertips.

[State Purge: Absolute Release]

A wave of pure mana radiated outward, severing Carl's Iron Order effect from Ethan in an instant. The pull on him vanished. His body was his own again.

Sylvie barely registered the sharp flicker of shock in Carl's aura. She had no time to relish the small victory—Lilia's arrow was still flying toward her.

Too fast. Too precise.

'No time to dodge.'

Her breath steadied. Then—

[Refracted Ward: Deflect]

Golden energy condensed in front of her, forming a barely visible barrier. The arrow struck—

THUNK!

The impact sent a pulse through her bones, but the projectile ricocheted, veering off its original trajectory. Not completely harmless, but enough to keep her in the fight.

Sylvie exhaled sharply, sweat trailing down her temple.

That had been too close.

She barely had time to process her relief before her [Authority] flared—Lilia was already adjusting again.

'She's insane. She's countering me while she fights Ethan?'

Ethan was moving again, his form a blur of speed as he used the opening Sylvie had created to lunge toward Lilia's perch.

For the first time, Sylvie saw a flicker of something in Lilia's aura.

Surprise.

Ethan wasn't supposed to recover this fast.

'Good,' Sylvie thought, her chest tightening with renewed determination. 'We're not out yet.'

But just as Ethan closed in—

Jasmine.

Sylvie's eyes widened as another fighter intercepted Ethan, her sword clashing against his spear.

'No—!'

Her grip tightened.

Jasmine wasn't just there to slow him down.

She was there to stall.

And in the time Ethan spent fighting her—

Lilia had recovered.

Sylvie's heart pounded. Her mana reserves were already stretched thin, and if Ethan didn't break through now—

Then she felt it.

Lilia's aura shifted.

Her bow was drawn. Her mana condensed.

And this time, Sylvie could sense it with absolute certainty.

She wasn't aiming at Ethan anymore.

She was aiming at her again.

Sylvie's breath caught.

Too fast. Too strong.

She had seconds.

No—less.

Lilia released.

SWOOSH!

Sylvie's body braced for impact—

Then—

Nothing.

Darkness.

Her surroundings vanished in an instant.

The battlefield faded, replaced by the quiet void of the simulation's end.

She was out.

Just like that.

Sylvie's fists clenched as she sat in the exit chamber, the cold hum of the mana-link system buzzing faintly around her.

'I lost.'

Chapter 880 - Artifact Training (9)

The moment the signal was given, Asher and Caden moved.

Their footsteps pounded against the training ground as they charged forward—not recklessly, but with deliberate aggression. The two of them had been assigned to the left flank, where Astron's strategy would be put to the test.

The plan was simple.

Overload one side, make it look like brute force, and bait the enemy into shifting more bodies to counter.

A crude plan. One that relied on the enemy underestimating them.

If their opponents were sharp enough to see through the bait, then things would get dangerous.

And yet…

'He looked pretty confident there.'

Asher glanced briefly in Astron's direction.

Asher's eyes flicked toward Astron's position.

Or rather—where Astron was supposed to be.

But he was gone.

'When did he—?'

There was no sign of movement, no trace of his departure. One second he had been there, calmly standing in place. The next—vanished.

Asher didn't like that.

Not because he needed Astron to hold his hand, but because it meant that Astron had seen something before anyone else had. And Asher hated being a step behind.

But there was no time to dwell on it. Their first opponent had already stepped forward.

Rebecca.

The moment she came into view, Asher clicked his tongue. Of course, it was her.

She was loose-limbed, her stance deceptively relaxed, but Asher wasn't fooled. Rebecca wasn't the kind of fighter who relied on raw strength or overwhelming mana. No—her speed, unpredictability, and footwork were her real weapons.

Caden, standing beside him, let out a low whistle. "Looks like we got company."

Rebecca tilted her head slightly, cracking her neck. "Didn't take you long. That's nice." Her tone was light, almost amused. "So, you guys here to break through or just stretching your legs?"

Asher didn't answer. Instead, he shifted his stance, already moving.

He wasn't going to waste time trading words.

Rebecca smirked. "Guess that's my answer."

She dodged before his attack even fully came through—her reflexes were sharp, her instincts tuned to avoidance rather than direct clashes. Asher's fist swiped past her shoulder by a hair's breadth as she twisted her body mid-step, her counterstrike already primed.

Caden moved to intercept, bringing his leg up for a high kick.

Rebecca saw it coming. She adjusted at the last second, ducking low as Caden's attack whipped just over her head.

'Fast.**

Rebecca wasn't just dodging—she was baiting.

She let them think they were about to land a hit, then slipped through at the very last second, forcing them to commit while she lined up her next move.

Annoying.

And dangerous.

Because Asher could already tell—if they let her dictate the pace, this fight would become a slow bleed.

Rebecca pivoted on her back foot, her leg snapping out in a lightning-fast roundhouse aimed at Asher's side. He barely had time to block, raising his forearm to absorb the impact.

THUD.

The force of it sent a vibration up his bones.

Rebecca grinned, using the momentum to spin into another kick—this time toward Caden.

Caden, however, was ready.

He didn't block—he stepped into the kick, closing the distance faster than Rebecca expected. The sudden shift ruined her angle, and Caden's elbow slammed into her stomach.

Rebecca let out a sharp exhale, but instead of retreating, she grabbed onto his arm.

She yanked him forward, trying to use his own weight against him. But before she could throw him, Asher moved.

His foot came up in a snap kick, slamming into Rebecca's ribs and forcing her to release Caden.

Rebecca stumbled back slightly, but she was still standing.

And she was still smirking.

"You two hit pretty hard," she admitted, rolling her shoulder. "Guess I should take this seriously."

She planted her feet, her mana flaring slightly—not flashy, but controlled, precise.

Asher exhaled sharply. 'Tch. This is taking too long.'

He hadn't expected her to go down easily. But they needed to move.

And then—

A sudden presence.

Asher barely had time to react before a second figure rushed in.

Adrian Langley.

'Here we go.'

The moment he arrived, the fight shifted.

Adrian was a defensive fighter—his specialty wasn't overwhelming offense, but rather controlling engagements. Minimizing damage, buying time, forcing enemies to waste energy.

And just like that, their momentum stalled.

Rebecca and Adrian positioned themselves together, closing off any easy angles of attack.

Caden cursed under his breath. "They're forming a wall."

Asher grit his teeth. This was the worst outcome—if they got bogged down in a drawn-out fight, the rest of the enemy team would have time to adapt, to counter.

But then something hit him.

Something was missing.

'Wait. Where's the third defender?'

They were supposed to pull three of them in.

Where is the third defender?

Asher's fingers curled into fists, his instincts flaring with unease.

Their plan had been to force three of them to this side, leaving the artifact weaker on the other end. But now, standing in front of them were only two—Rebecca and Adrian.

The third was missing.

His mind raced.

Had their opponents seen through their strategy? Had they figured out that Astron wasn't just a background piece in this game?

If so—this whole exercise was already lost.

Tch.

Asher clenched his jaw, eyes flicking to the side, toward the ruined cityscape beyond the fight. If the enemy had left their strongest fighter back at the artifact's location…

'This is bad.'

No, not just bad—disastrous.

At best, all they could do now was salvage this situation. Make it costly for the enemy even if they lost the objective.

And Astron—wherever the hell he was—better have been fast enough to secure the artifact before a real monster showed up on the other end.

'Let's hope that guy can get the artifact...'

His breath was tight, measured, his body tense and ready for whatever happened next.

'And let's hope there isn't a stronger cadet guarding it.'

But before he could dwell on it—

"Where is your mind, when I am here!"

Rebecca's voice snapped through the air like a whip, her mana flaring as she lunged.

Asher barely had time to react before she was already on him.

Her foot lashed out, forcing him to block just in time. The impact rattled up his arm, but the attack wasn't over—she pivoted, seamlessly transitioning into a follow-up strike aimed straight for Caden.

Caden deflected, but even he wasn't fast enough to avoid the full brunt of it. Rebecca's palm strike connected against his ribs, sending him skidding back a step.

Adrian followed up immediately, forcing the engagement to turn against them.

Asher and Caden found themselves pushed back, losing control of the momentum.

'Shit.'

They weren't losing yet—but they weren't winning either.

And the longer this fight dragged on, the more the balance tipped against them.

"Oh… so one of your guys went behind us, huh?"

Rebecca's voice came from the side, deceptively casual.

But Asher knew better.

She wasn't just commenting—she was revealing.

Astron had been discovered.

His stomach tightened. If she was mentioning it so openly, it meant she wasn't worried. No, more than that—she was confident.

Caden, still catching his breath from Rebecca's last attack, gave her a sharp look. "Tch. And? That doesn't mean we've lost."

Rebecca just sighed, shaking her head like they were children who didn't understand the situation. "You guys really are unlucky…"

"What?" Asher snapped, feeling the irritation bleed into his tone.

Rebecca grinned. "Just give up."

Something in her voice made the back of Asher's neck prickle. Why was she so confident?

And then—he got his answer.

"Julia is there."

Silence.

A moment of pure stillness.

The weight of that name dropped like a stone in Asher's gut.

His fingers twitched. Caden's expression shifted.

Rebecca's smirk widened. "See? You get it now."

Julia Middleton.

One of the strongest cadets in their year. Ruthless, sharp, and dangerous. If she was guarding the artifact—

Then Astron was in serious trouble.

Asher barely dodged a sharp kick from Rebecca, twisting his body at the last second. His breathing was steady, but his mind was a mess.

Because this was over.

'Julia is there.'

The moment those words left Rebecca's mouth, the fight had lost all meaning.

He wanted to curse. At himself, at his luck, at whatever damn force in the universe decided to screw him over today.

Because of course.

Of course, it had to be Julia Middleton.

Among their year's cadets, there were some names that recently started making everyone hesitate.

Viktor was outright exempt from these training exercises. Too strong, too unfair, too unbalanced. The instructors had stopped putting him in mock battles unless it was against upper years.

Irina Emberheart, terrifying in her own right. Everyone had seen what she could do.

Ethan, rising quickly, a threat in the making, though he still wasn't on their level yet.

And then—Julia.

Asher clenched his jaw as he parried another strike from Rebecca.

Julia Middleton was a nightmare.

Everyone still remembered her duel.

He had watched it.

That absolute dismantling of her opponent, the ruthless precision of her attacks, the overwhelming control she had on the battlefield. Her mana, her instincts, her sheer presence.

And Astron had just walked into that.

'We lost.'

There was no salvaging this.

And now, all Asher wanted to do was drop his weapons and sigh.

Because this wasn't just a loss.

This was bad luck of the highest level.

Rebecca and Adrian were already annoying enough. But Julia? She was different.

She was someone you did not want to fight.

And Astron, as unreadable as he was, wasn't on her level. No one was.

Asher hated this feeling. The feeling of being completely screwed over before the fight even started.

Tch.

'Might as well just—'

BEEP.

His thoughts froze.

A sharp, electronic ping came through his earbuds. A message. A notification.

A voice, crackling slightly through the comms—

"Artifact acquired. Offense team wins."