As the crowd continued to cheer for their respective group members, the white glow on the last window at the left side suddenly shifted…
It turned red.
The boy from Felix's group stepped out of the tower.
His breathing was heavy, his shoulders rising and falling as sweat soaked through his clothes. Despite that, his body had no visible injuries, not even a scratch. That was the nature of the trial—it was illusionary. The attacks did not leave wounds, but the pressure, the speed, the fear… all of it felt real enough to drain the body, both physically and mentally completely.
"How was it?"
Keith suddenly appeared beside him like a shadow, leaning in with an exaggerated curiosity.
"Ahh…!"
The boy flinched, stepping to the side in shock before turning quickly.
"Oh… it's just you," he said, his expression immediately turning displeased.
"So?" Keith moved even closer, his face almost invading the boy's space, his grin wide and shameless.
