Rain clouds drifted over the old stadium as if mimicking Ares's internal storm. The air smelled of wet earth and steel, a familiar scent that had already begun to feel like the perfume of his transformation.
Ares Locke arrived earlier than usual—before dawn, before the birds, before even Rowan Vale could begin assessing his failures.
He wasn't here out of fear.
He was here because something inside him wouldn't let him sleep.
A restless fire.
A whisper that wouldn't quiet down.
You're being watched.
Not by Rowan.
Not by scouts.
But by readers—mysterious, invisible, evaluating his every choice.
Ares took a deep breath, rolled his shoulders, and stepped onto the damp grass.
"Today… I don't break."
He placed six cones in a widening zig-zag. The upgraded version of last chapter's training. Harder. Faster. Less margin for error.
Before he could start—
DING.
A panel popped up.
System Notice: Reader Sentiment Rising
Detected Emotion: Anticipation
Temporary Buff: +8% focus for 20 minutes
Ares blinked.
"They're… expecting something from me?"
The idea filled him with a warmth he couldn't describe. Not pride—he hadn't earned that yet.
But possibility.
Someone out there believed—even slightly—that he could become something.
He didn't know who they were.
Didn't know how many.
Didn't know if they would stay.
But today, he would not let them down.
He closed his eyes, steadied his breath, and began the dribble sequence.
Tap. Tap. Pull. Shift. Blade-cut. Heel flick.
Smooth.
The ball moved with purpose, with intention, responding to his feet like an extension of his spine.
Ares flowed through the pattern, mistakes and stiffness suddenly melting into something sharper. Something alive.
His muscles still burned. His breath still trembled. But his mind—
his mind was clear.
An observer might have mistaken it for talent.
But Ares knew better.
It was the readers.
The system chimed again.
Small Reader Group Emotion: Admiration (Minor)
Effect: +2% agility (temporary)
Ares smiled despite himself.
"Thank you… whoever you are."
He broke into a sprint, finishing the sequence with a sharp inside-out touch that curled perfectly around the final cone.
Then he turned—
—and nearly slammed into Rowan.
The scout stood with arms folded, an unreadable expression painted across his sharp features.
Ares jumped slightly. "I—uh—I didn't hear you."
"You were focused," Rowan replied. "Good."
There was a pause.
Long enough for Ares to fear criticism. Long enough for Rowan to weigh his words.
Finally—
"You're improving faster than expected."
Ares blinked. "I… I am?"
"Don't get cocky," Rowan said, walking past him. "You're still miles behind your competition. But—"
He pointed to the cones.
"That was the first time you looked like someone training with purpose instead of someone flailing in panic."
Ares flushed slightly—not from shame, but from something close to pride.
Rowan continued, his tone calm yet clinical.
"Again. This time I'll add pressure."
He stepped behind Ares and tapped Ares's ankle lightly.
"When you move, imagine a defender here, here…"
He nudged Ares's shoulder.
"…and here."
Ares swallowed.
"Okay."
The second attempt was sloppier. Rowan's pressure forced his touches wider, made his balance wobble, made his timing falter.
"Too slow," Rowan said. "Start again."
Third attempt—better, but still flawed.
"Don't think about perfection," Rowan said. "Think about control."
Fourth attempt—Rowan stepped closer, forcing Ares to tighten his space.
"Adjust your hips!"
Fifth attempt—Rowan's foot darted near his, mimicking a steal attempt.
Ares nearly tripped but recovered.
At the sixth attempt, sweat drenched his shirt, his breath shook, and his legs felt ready to collapse—
—but the system chimed again.
Reader Emotion: Tension
Buff: +5% reaction speed (temporary)
Ares's eyes sharpened.
"Again," he whispered.
Rowan raised a brow. "Still alive?"
Ares didn't answer. He stepped to the starting point.
He breathed.
He moved.
This time, the dribble sequence was tight, controlled, intentional. Each touch was calculated. Each shift had purpose. Each movement carried a whisper of something he'd never possessed:
Confidence.
When he finished, Rowan exhaled softly.
"…Not bad."
The compliment hit Ares harder than any criticism.
"You're absorbing corrections faster than most rookies," Rowan continued. "If you keep this up… you might actually survive the Trials."
The system chimed again, startling both of them.
Reader Surprise Detected
Boost: Unyielding Spark duration +10%
Rowan frowned. "Is that… your phone?"
Ares jolted. "No! I mean—uh—just notifications."
Rowan narrowed his eyes but didn't push further. "Take five minutes. We're shifting to stamina drills next."
Ares nodded gratefully, collapsing onto the grass.
His lungs strained. His thighs burned. His core shook.
But something in him glowed.
The readers were there.
Watching.
Reacting.
Hoping.
Maybe there were only two or three of them.
Maybe just one.
But one was enough.
Because one person believing in you—
even a stranger—
could change everything.
He stared at the sky, letting the blue wash over him.
"I won't disappoint you," he whispered.
The system flickered gently.
Reader Response Detected: Warmth
No bonuses applied.
But belief value increasing…
Ares didn't understand the meaning fully.
But he didn't need to.
He stood slowly.
Rowan watched him carefully.
"Ready for more?" the scout asked.
Ares nodded, wiping sweat from his brow.
"Always."
Rowan smirked faintly. "Good. Because we're doubling the workload today."
Ares felt a shock run through him.
"D–doubling?"
"If you want to stand out, you need more than effort," Rowan said. "You need obsession."
Ares inhaled sharply.
Obsession…
That word resonated in him like a match striking dry wood.
Rowan stepped closer.
"So tell me, Ares Locke—"
His eyes sharpened, slicing straight through Ares's resolve.
"…how badly do you want this?"
Ares didn't hesitate.
"More than anything."
The system chimed immediately.
Reader Emotion Detected: FERVOR
Massive temporary buff triggered — WillForge Boost +15%
Duration: 10 minutes
Ares felt his heartbeat strengthen.
His posture straightened.
His limbs steadied.
Rowan blinked. "Your eyes changed."
Ares smirked.
"Let's train."
Rowan nodded slowly.
"Very well. Then let's see where your will ends."
And as the morning sun rose fully over the stadium, Ares stepped into the next stage of his evolution—
Not just as a player…
but as a weapon forged by will, pressure, and unseen belief.