Chapter 6 – The Flicker Before the Storm
The rain had thinned to a fine mist, the kind that clung to skin and blurred vision without anyone noticing. In the third-class sector, David stood quietly, the sound of his own heartbeat louder than the growls and screeches beyond the treeline.
He didn't know what had just happened.
One moment, a beast had been lunging toward the trembling girl in the clearing. The next, it had collapsed with a crushed jaw, and David was standing there with his fist lowered, breathing hard.
It hadn't felt like running. It hadn't felt like a punch.
It had just… happened.
The girl's wide, disbelieving eyes locked on him.
"What… did you just do?"
David shook his head.
"I don't know."
"What do you believe in?" she asked, her tone urgent.
"Believe?" He blinked at her. "I don't… I didn't think about that. I just… wanted to save you."
She studied him, as though his answer itself was stranger than his speed.
"So… it wasn't probability? Or strategy? Or some special technique?"
"No," David said. "I'm sure it's not that."
The girl tilted her head, still clutching the shimmering air that shielded her. She hesitated, then spoke with a quiet intensity that cut through the noise of the battlefield.
"Then… whatever it was — whatever you thought in that moment — hold onto it. Keep using it. Don't doubt it. Just act."
She didn't wait for his reply. A fresh wave of beasts broke through the mist, and her barrier flared as she threw herself into the fight, intercepting the first set of attackers.
David was left standing there, the echo of her words heavy in his chest.
Whatever I thought…
He replayed the moment in his mind. He remembered the beast's open jaws. The girl's unflinching eyes. His own decision — not to think, not to calculate, but to be there.
The more he thought about it, the more a strange clarity settled over him. He imagined himself in front of each beast before it struck. And as that thought settled in… his body moved.
One blink — he was at the flank of a charging creature. Another blink — he was behind it, his palm brushing its fur. It collapsed before it could turn.
David didn't feel faster in the way running felt fast. He felt… present. As though space itself folded to meet his intent.
He smiled despite himself.
"Okay… I think I get it."
Across the battlefield, others were showcasing their own terrifying efficiency.
The girl who could turn her body into any weapon was a blur of steel and gunmetal. Her arm became a whip-blade to decapitate a lunging beast, then a massive hammer to crush another into the mud.
The insect-believer had conjured an armored centipede the size of a carriage, its segmented body coiling and snapping in precise arcs. Every strike ended with a beast being torn apart, chitin glinting in the dim light.
The boy who believed in superheroes was a whirlwind — punching, blasting, vanishing, reappearing midair to slam down with explosive force. He fought with the cocky grin of someone enjoying every second of the chaos.
The fireworks-believer painted the sky in blooming colors, each explosion timed to shield allies or scatter beasts into vulnerable clusters.
Angel, the feathered warrior, dove from above, her wings slicing through rain, spike-feathers firing in perfect spirals into the enemy ranks.
Even the second-class fighters seemed to be moving with a rhythm now — a strange cohesion that the presidents, far away in their conference, were quietly noting.
David was too focused on his own discovery to notice the shift in mood at first. But then he heard it — the superhero-believer freezing mid-punch, his smile fading.
"...Huh. My animal instinct is tingling."
It was an odd statement in the middle of battle, but he said it with such seriousness that a few nearby fighters actually paused.
"Your what?" the fireworks-believer called over.
"Animal instinct," he repeated. "You know. That gut thing. I'm telling you — something's wrong."
Angel sliced another beast in half with her wings, not even looking at him.
"You say that every time you want attention."
The boy frowned.
"No. This is different. Something's coming."
Nobody answered. The fight went on.
Then a voice — deeper, calm, and far more authoritative — cut through the noise.
A first-class sorcerer, the girl-turned-weapon, suddenly stopped mid-swing. Her head turned sharply toward the northern treeline.
"...He's right."
The entire nearby group that was battling fearlessly now focused on her word and paid attention to her.
She stepped forward, her weaponized arm shifting back into human flesh.
"I sense danger ahead. Something big."
That got everyone's attention.
The superhero-believer pointed both hands toward the others in exasperation.
"See? SEE?! First-class says it and you all listen! But when I say it—"
"Because she's never wrong," Angel said flatly, already repositioning her wings for speed.
One by one, fighters began looking toward the north. The mist there was thicker, rolling in waves like ocean foam. The treeline shook rhythmically, as if something massive was making its way forward.
The insect-believer's centipede curled protectively around her.
"We need to plan now. That's no ordinary beast."
The girl-weapon nodded.
"The Boss monster. They wouldn't have put us all here unless something like that was coming."
David blinked.
"Boss monster?"
The superhero-believer clapped a hand on his shoulder.
"Yeah. Biggest thing in the simulation. Meaner than anything you've fought so far. Designed to test everyone at once."
"And if we lose?" David asked.
The boy grinned.
"We don't."
Already, clusters of fighters were moving together. First- and second-class sorcerers naturally took leadership roles, dividing the field into sectors. They shouted instructions — some organizing defensive formations, others preparing traps, and a few gathering raw magical energy into large-scale attack spells.
Even those who didn't like each other began working in sync. Rivalries and petty grudges meant nothing in the face of what was about to emerge.
The rain picked up again. The rumbling in the forest grew louder. And all at once, the mist at the north edge of the clearing began to glow with a sickly green light.
David tightened his fists, that strange clarity still pulsing through him. He didn't know if his newfound ability would work on something this size. But he intended to find out.
The command came from the front line — sharp, clear, and impossible to ignore.
"All second-class units, link with your third-class counterparts! We're going in as one group!"
It wasn't a suggestion. The first-class sorcerers had spoken, and in this battlefield, that was law.
One of them, the girl-weapon, stood tall, her arm already shifting into a massive blade.
"Listen up! This isn't just about killing the boss — this is your score. Your aptitude test. Fail here, and you might as well walk out now."
Her words cut through the rain like steel. Heads turned toward her, even in the chaos.
"We hit it from all sides," she continued. "Top, left, right — and center. The center squad will act as bait. You'll keep its attention long enough for the rest of us to land the real damage."
There was a pause — the kind that comes when everyone realizes what "bait" really means.
David's heart sank when his name was called for center squad.
It wasn't a team of elites. Mostly third-class fighters, fresh and untested, with a couple of weary second-class sorcerers acting as anchors.
The plan was simple on paper: draw the monster's focus while others hacked at its vulnerable spots.
The reality was about to be anything but simple.
The mist rolled back.
The "boss" emerged.
It towered over them — a fleshy mountain of sinew and armor-like scales, eyes glowing an unnatural green. From its back and sides sprouted long, thrashing tentacles, each lined with serrated barbs and slick with some dark, glistening fluid. Every movement it made sounded like wet rope twisting in a grinder.
Its roar shook the clearing, sending a blast of wind and rain forward.
The center squad charged.
David felt the ground tremble beneath each step, the sound of boots slamming into mud mixing with shouts of effort and fear. The beast's eyes locked on them almost instantly, and its tentacles snapped forward like whips.
The first impact sent one fighter flying into the air, screaming as the barbs dug deep. Another was snatched off the ground entirely, tentacle coils crushing ribs with sickening cracks.
"HELP! HELP ME!"
"It's got my leg! It's—AHHHH!"
The desperation in their voices cut into David's chest. He glanced back — surely the first- or second-class sorcerers would intervene—
But no.
They weren't looking. The left and right squads were already attacking the beast's flanks, shouting battle cries and unleashing blasts of energy. The top squad dove in from above, wings slicing through the mist.
Their eyes were on victory.
Not on the people being crushed.
David's jaw clenched.
He couldn't just leave them.
He sprinted toward the nearest trapped fighter, ducking under a sweeping tentacle. When his hand met the slick, barbed surface, something strange happened — a flash of heat, and then boom. The tentacle burst apart at the point of contact, showering the mud in pieces.
The captive fell free, gasping.
David didn't stop.
Every time he touched one of those writhing limbs — boom. Another explosion of flesh and green ichor. Another person freed.
One by one, he tore the tentacles away from his comrades, ignoring the way the beast's screeches grew sharper, more enraged.
Then the creature realized what was happening.
Its tentacles snapped back, curling defensively — and then, with a sickening ripple, it unleashed a massive shockwave.
The force slammed outward in all directions, hurling fighters like leaves in a hurricane. David skidded backward through the mud, coughing, ears ringing.
The beast's tentacles lashed again — this time grabbing several people at once.
David's eyes widened as he saw one of them already being drawn toward the monster's chest. The surface there split open like a grotesque maw, pulling its victim inside with slow, horrible inevitability.
"NO!"
He dove forward, grabbing the boy's arm just as the chest-mouth began closing around them both.
The pull was immense — the kind that dragged not just the body, but the air out of your lungs. David's boots left the ground.
He heard the boy screaming, felt his grip slipping — and then the pull took them both.
Darkness.
No sound except the wet, suffocating pressure on all sides.
David's lungs burned instantly. He couldn't move his arms — the monster's insides were squeezing tighter and tighter, like a snake's coils made of living muscle.
I can't breathe… I can't breathe…
Panic surged in his chest. His heartbeat roared in his ears.
It's choking me… squeezing… the pain— I can't— I can't bear it…
The crushing weight was everywhere, around his chest, his legs, his skull. Every pulse of the beast's body felt like it was trying to force the life out of him.
His vision blurred.
He was going to pass out.
He was going to fail.
And then — a thought, sharp as lightning.
No… If I don't get out, I'll be "rescued" and fail the test. No salary. No way to pay my debt. No peace of mind. No freedom.
Something inside him snapped into place.
I need to live. I need to win. I need...to get… out.
His body began to glow.
Not with a spark or a flicker — but a steady, burning radiance that pushed against the crushing darkness.
He spread his arms and legs, stretching against the pressure, as though breaking invisible chains.
The flesh around him resisted — then began to tear.
And then—
BOOM.
The entire beast exploded from the inside, a deafening, wet blast that hurled chunks of its armored hide across the field. The shockwave tore through the rain, shoving even some second-class fighters back a step.
Weaker sorcerers were thrown to the ground, shielding their faces from the spray.
And in the center of the smoking crater where the monster's core had been, David stood — drenched in green ichor, chest heaving, eyes burning with an unshakable fire.
From the outside, it looked almost like the combined attacks of the stronger sorcerers had finally cracked the beast. That's what most assumed as cheers began to rise.
"We did it!"
"The Boss beast is down!"
Shouts and laughter echoed across the clearing. Some clapped each other on the back. Others raised weapons in victory.
David just stood there, breathing in the cold, damp air — alive, free, and with a quiet, stubborn knowledge in his chest.
They had no idea it was him.
And he didn't care.
Because he knew.