As they exited the dungeon onto the academy grounds, the sun struck down mercilessly. The contrast with the forest's darkness was brutal.
A state of semi-panic reigned. Medical teams rushed between injured students lying on stretchers. The less severely wounded, still in shock, gathered by class, exchanging hollow stares or speaking too loudly. The smell of disinfectant and disturbed earth hung in the air.
Then, a chain reaction. The last survivors began to appear in flashes of white light, scattered across the return zone. Remedy, Serene, then the others. Their uniforms were torn, stained with blood and soot. Some staggered as their feet touched real ground.
Behind them, the giant dungeon gate vibrated, shrank in on itself, then vanished, leaving only a bare stone slab behind.
A massive projection lit up the sky, displaying cold, final numbers:
--- FINAL REPORT ---
Elapsed Time: 11h30
Initial Participants: 101
Returned (Scroll): 69
Confirmed Deaths: 32
Students Remaining in the Dungeon: 0
Remedy raised his eyes to the figures. Thirty-two dead. Nearly a third. No resurrection. No second chances.
A wave of pity washed over Remedy. Laughter that would never echo again. Dreams reduced to ashes. Entire families who would wait in vain for their child's return.
How tragic…, he thought, his heart tight. And this was only a beginner dungeon. Just an exam.
The image of the "world of players" no longer felt abstract, but like a chasm of teeth and shadow—infinitely more terrifying.
At that moment, an immense holographic projection of the headmaster, Mr. Stern, materialized at the center of the grounds, towering over the surviving students.
— I congratulate you, he began, his deep voice carrying effortlessly. I congratulate all of you for returning alive. You have seen it for yourselves: the path of a Player is not glory. It is a path of suffering. Thirty-two of your comrades will never walk the halls of this academy again.
He paused, his stern gaze sweeping across the marked faces before him.
— Let their deaths not be in vain. Let them serve as a lesson. Our world is sick. It is dangerous. Weakness has no place in it. So become strong. Strong enough to protect those who remain. Strong enough to live—and through your survival, honor those who have fallen. There is no other path. Move forward. Always. Despite fear. Despite trials. This is our only hope for the future.
His tone shifted, becoming more administrative, though still solemn.
— Your performances have been recorded and will be reviewed by the military command and the representatives of the major guilds. Your future—entry into a prestigious guild or an elite university—depends on it. You will receive your results in three days. Until then, return home. Rest. And prepare yourselves.
Then his eyes sharpened, as if searching for someone in the crowd.
— Students Remedy, Neve, Serene. The top three of the rankings. Report to the professors' meeting room. Immediately.
One last look at the assembly.
— To all of you… good luck.
The projection faded, leaving the students in a heavy silence, filled with grief and new beginnings.
---
— Let's go, Remedy said to Serene, nodding toward the academy's main building.
He turned to leave—and saw him.
Jett. Standing about ten meters away, motionless, his gaze locked onto Remedy. The noise of the grounds seemed to fade around that statue of silent tension.
— Yo, you okay? Remedy tried, forcing a casual tone to break the ice.
But Jett didn't answer. He didn't even nod. He simply walked straight ahead, passing Remedy without a word, without a glance. His shoulder nearly brushed Remedy's, the passing as cold as a blade.
The message was clear. There was nothing left to say. The duel was postponed, but the line had been drawn.
Remedy had defeated the Boss. Alone.
The thought looped endlessly in Jett's mind, bitter and burning. By all academic logic, an untrained Level 10 shouldn't have been able to stand against a Level 11 elite monster. And yet…
He, who believed himself a genius, a strategist… wasn't even in the top three.
He clenched his fists, knuckles whitening beneath his skin. Frustration mixed with humiliation, forming a cocktail of pure resentment. But deep within that bitterness, a new determination—colder, more dangerous—began to take root.
One thing was certain… he would return. Stronger.
And this time, there would be no Serene to cover him.
---
Remedy and Serene walked down the long, deserted corridor leading to the professors' offices. The silence between them was usual, but today, another weight rested on Remedy's shoulders.
A shiver ran down his spine. He felt watched. He slightly turned his head.
Neve.
She walked a few meters behind them, alone, her steps silent and perfectly synchronized. Her icy blue gaze, devoid of emotion, was fixed between his shoulder blades.
What does she want from me? he wondered uneasily.
The murderous aura she had exuded in the dungeon was gone, replaced by this intense and incomprehensible attention.
They finally stopped in front of a massive oak door, engraved with the academy's seal. Remedy took a deep breath and knocked.
An authoritative voice, which he recognized as Mr. Stone's, answered from inside:
— Enter.
Remedy pushed open the heavy door. The dim light of the professors' meeting room revealed seven figures seated around a long table, their gazes already fixed on the newcomers.
---
The three students stood in a line before the imposing semicircle of seven professors. The air was saturated with a tension different from that of the dungeon—a cold, analytical pressure, heavy with unspoken questions.
Remedy gave a small, nervous smile, a reflexive response to the discomfort.
Why is everyone acting like this toward me today?
— First of all, congratulations to the three of you, Mr. Stern began, breaking the silence. His voice was cordial, but his expression remained grave. Your performances, particularly during the final hours, were… highly instructive. I have no doubt they will open the doors to the finest institutions.
The three students murmured their thanks almost in unison, courtesy on the surface masking their private wariness.
— As the top performers of this trial, here are your rewards, as announced.
Three bluish holograms appeared before them, displaying transfer codes. After a quick scan, discreet notifications flickered at the edge of their vision:
• Remedy: +500,000 credits
• Neve: +300,000 credits
• Serene: +100,000 credits
A raw, simple surge of joy passed through Remedy. Finally.
Enough to eat properly without worrying about money… and maybe buy some real equipment. His mind was already planning, dreaming, the room's tension momentarily forgotten.
That was the exact moment—when his guard was at its lowest—that the question fell.
It didn't come from the headmaster, but from his own homeroom teacher.
— Student Remedy.
Mr. Stone's voice, as sharp and direct as ever, cut through the budding euphoria.
Remedy looked up.
Mr. Stone stared at him, hands clasped on the table. His usual sternness was tinged with intense, almost unsettling curiosity.
— Have you awakened your profession?
The silence that followed was absolute.
One could have heard every heartbeat in the room.
All eyes—the professors', Neve's, even Serene's peripheral gaze—converged on him, suspended on an answer that might define his entire future.
Chapter 17 — End.