Outside the illusory world, inside a great hall, a group of people sat in attendance. Each of them radiated an aura of power that made the air feel heavier — and Ferrell, who could effortlessly dominate most rooms he walked into, could barely hold his own among these figures.
All of them had their eyes fixed on a screen of light projecting events from within the illusory world.
Prince Almond Dawnlight was among them. His gaze had settled on the projection of his younger brother, who was sleeping as though he hadn't a care in the world. Disdain flickered across his face.
Beside him stood a woman in a black robe, her face concealed behind a mask. She studied the projection before speaking. "It looks like something interesting is about to unfold, Prince. Do you think your brother will pass the exam?"
Almond didn't answer immediately, his eyes still fixed on his sleeping brother. Then the screen shifted to another person, and he finally replied. "Knowing my benevolent younger brother's personality — I doubt it. That man named Alzer is remarkably clever and calculating. To devise a scheme like that on the spot is no small thing."
It wasn't just Almond and the woman who had pieced together Alzer's plan. Nearly everyone in the great hall had already worked it out. These were people who had schemed their way to the top — a student's gambit in an entrance exam was hardly beyond them.
"In any case," Almond continued, "we'll see if anything unexpected comes of it."
The masked woman said nothing. She stared at the screen, deep in thought.
---
Charles opened his eyes and stretched. He felt genuinely rested — the first time in hours. After all the point-grinding and group management, the brief sleep had done more for him than he'd expected. He looked up at the sky and calculated the time instinctively. Ten minutes remaining.
He was about to rise when a young man came running toward him, expression tight with worry.
"Your Excellency — something's happened!"
"What is it?" Charles hadn't been expecting anything urgent during the final stretch, but something in the young man's face made his chest tighten.
"Stella has disappeared! It seems she's been taken!"
"What?!" The words hit him like cold water. He forced his thoughts to settle and looked the young man in the eye. "Where was she last seen?"
"According to Lucy — one of our members — she saw Stella heading toward the river. She asked where she was going, and Stella said she was just going to wash up for a bit." The young man relayed it carefully, as though replaying what he'd been told.
"Show me the way." Charles' tone came out sharper than he intended, but the young man didn't flinch. Under the circumstances, no one could blame the prince for the edge in his voice.
They moved quickly. A minute and a half later, they arrived at the river to find a cluster of their group already there, murmuring among themselves. The moment someone spotted the prince, word spread instantly.
"The prince is here!"
Every head turned. Charles was the authority in this group — that was simply understood.
A large, broad-shouldered man named Colt stepped forward and dipped his head. "Your Excellency."
"Colt." Charles acknowledged him with a nod. Outside of the young man who had come to wake him, Colt was the person he trusted most in the group. "Is there anything more to report about the situation?"
"Yes, Your Excellency." Colt's expression was grave.
"Tell me."
Rather than speaking, Colt reached into his pocket and produced a blue crystal cube, which he placed into the prince's hand.
Charles recognized it immediately. "A communication crystal."
Communication crystals came in pairs by design — two matching pieces that allowed the holders to project and receive a screen of light across any distance. Whatever was on the other end of this one was already connected.
As if on cue, the crystal floated from Charles' hand and projected a screen of light into the air above them.
The crowd turned as one — and their expressions shifted simultaneously.
On the screen was a young man covered in wounds. He was recognizable to everyone present as a member of their group.
"Well, Prince." A second figure appeared in the projection, relaxed and wearing a calm, easy smile. "It seems you've finally received the crystal."
"It's him!" Zach's voice cracked with barely contained fury, his eyes going red the moment he saw the face. "Your Excellency — that is the Demon who tortured me!"
"Demon." Charles kept his voice level, but his jaw was tight. "What is your objective? Why have you taken one of my people?"
"Hmph." Alzer's expression didn't change. "Don't play dumb. Hand over all your points, and I'll let him go unharmed."
Charles went still.
Now he understood what the black-robed young man had meant earlier. Alzer was using his own character against him — turning his concern for others into a lever. His thoughts churned. Two paths, and neither was clean. Transfer the points, and the people in his group who had trusted him with their futures would be eliminated from the exam without question. Refuse, and a person's life hung in the balance. Both outcomes left him having failed someone.
"You can't do this," Charles said, his voice strained. "Killing another participant violates the rules of the exam. You know that."
"I know," Alzer said. "So what? Either you transfer the points, or this man dies. If I fail this exam, my future is already ruined — I might as well take someone down into the dark with me."
Charles fell silent. He analyzed the situation rapidly, approaching it from every angle he could think of. Every path led back to the same two choices.
On the screen, Alzer watched the prince's hesitation drag on and felt a flicker of impatience. Less than five minutes remained. Charles' mental defenses were shaking but had not broken — and they were visibly steadying. If he recovered fully, he would likely choose to hold the points and gamble that the threat was a bluff.
Time to use the trump card.
"I can see you won't be moved by this alone," Alzer said. "Fine. You've held your ground impressively. Let's see if you can keep it after the next part."
Charles' stomach dropped before the words were even finished. He already had a premonition about what was coming.
He was right.
Alzer moved off-screen briefly and returned with a girl bound in rope, hair disheveled, cheeks streaked with tears. There were no visible wounds on her — but the fear on her face made the sight no less wretched.
"Stella!" Charles' composure shattered. "Why involve her?! She has nothing to do with this!"
"Why would I explain my reasoning?" Alzer's expression didn't shift. His eyes moved over Stella with a cold, unhurried calm. "Same terms. Transfer the points, and I'll release her. Make your choice."
"You—!" Charles' hands balled into fists. His thoughts were no longer operating in straight lines — they were tangled around the image in front of him.
Colt stepped forward, his voice low and urgent. "Don't listen to him, Your Excellency. No matter how far he's willing to go, he cannot actually kill anyone here. The rules are absolute. This is a bluff."
Charles latched onto that. Colt was right. The rules of the exam were enforced by the artifact itself — any fatal act would be prevented. Alzer was counting on the threat of what he might do, not what he actually could.
Dammit. On the screen, Alzer's face tightened. He could feel the time running out — barely two minutes, if that. Charles was pulling back from the edge. Another moment and the window would close entirely.
He shifted his approach.
"I'll admit, Your Excellency," Alzer said, his tone dropping into something quieter and more deliberate, "I do genuinely admire your taste. Keeping someone like her close to you — that speaks well of your standards."
"Wait—" Charles' expression changed. "Don't you dare—"
"My future is already finished either way." Alzer's smile turned sharp. "I might as well make the most of whatever time I have left." He reached out and tore open the front of Stella's robe, exposing her to the projection.
Charles' eyes went red. He drew his sword and drove it through the screen — the projection distorted, rippled, and snapped back to normal. The sword had done nothing.
"What kind of fool attacks a projection, Prince?" Alzer laughed, though his eyes never left the girl in front of him. "You're supposed to be educated."
"Stop!" Charles' voice came out cracked. He was shaking — hands, knees, all of it. "Fine. I'll give you the points. All of them. Just stop."
The group exploded.
"Your Excellency—" Colt's voice stripped away all pretense of deference. "She is one girl. One. With your status you could—"
Charles didn't respond. His wrist lit up, and a massive stream of light launched itself outward into the distance.
Inside a cave, Alzer watched his point total jump to a figure that would have been impossible to achieve any other way. His ranking climbed to first place on the list. He checked the remaining time. Under a minute. No one could reach him now.
He let himself enjoy the result for exactly a moment.
"Well done, Prince," he said into the communication crystal. "You have my respect. And I'm a man of my word — I won't touch your woman."
The screen cut out.
Charles stood at the river's edge, staring at nothing. The weakness spreading through his chest felt physical — like something structural had given way. Slowly, he became aware of the gazes pressing in on him from all sides. Disappointment. Grief. Rage. These were people who had trusted him with everything they had.
He had never felt anything like this before in his life.
He couldn't hold their eyes. He turned and walked — quickly, without direction — until the sounds of the camp were behind him.