As the night deepened, a loud horn echoed across Kamaskh.

  The music paused.

  Voices gathered.

  A village announcer stepped onto a raised platform, his voice carrying across the festival.

  “Tonight’s final event—

  The Trial of Super Warriors!”

  Cheers erupted instantly.

  Samye straightened, curiosity sparked.

  “The rules are simple,” the announcer continued. “A flag has been planted on a wild beast released into the forest zone. Whoever captures the flag within thirty seconds wins!”

  Laughter, excitement, and confident murmurs filled the air.

  Samye frowned slightly.

  Thirty seconds? On a moving animal?

  “This one’s fun to watch,” Kayal said from behind him. “Come.”

  They moved toward the competition grounds.

  A large gate opened at the forest’s edge.

  With a thunderous roar, a massive horned forest beast burst forward, a red flag tied tightly to its back. The animal charged wildly, shaking the ground with every step.

  The horn sounded.

  The trial began.

  A man shot forward like lightning itself—his body blurring with impossible speed. He closed the distance instantly, hand stretching toward the flag—

  —but suddenly he was yanked backward, slammed hard into the dirt as another contestant shoulder-checked him mid-run.

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  Gasps rippled through the crowd.

  Next, a woman raised her hand.

  The beast lifted into the air, suspended by telekinesis, legs thrashing helplessly. The flag swayed just within reach—

  But before she could grab it—

  The ground trembled.

  A deep hiss echoed.

  From beneath the earth, a giant serpent erupted, summoned by a man standing calmly at the edge of the field. The serpent coiled around the airborne beast and devoured it whole in one swift motion.

  The flag fell.

  The man caught it effortlessly.

  The horn sounded again.

  Winner.

  The crowd roared in approval.

  Samye stood frozen.

  Speed.

  Telekinesis.

  Summoning.

  Abilities — powerful ones.

  But none of them screamed in pain.

  None lost control.

  None went insane.

  They used their powers calmly. Precisely. Naturally.

  “…They can use abilities like that,” Samye murmured. “Without losing themselves.”

  Kayal approached with a few armored warriors and sat beside him.

  “They’re trained,” Kayal said. “Disciplined. Balanced.”

  He gestured toward the winner.

  “They’re all Grade C warriors. In real battle, they’re extremely useful.”

  Samye blinked.

  Grade C…?

  “Grade C?” Samye repeated. “Then what are Grade A?”

  Kayal smiled faintly. “You don’t want to meet them casually.”

  Samye exhaled slowly.

  “Still,” he said, “they’re powerful.”

  Kayal nodded. “Power doesn’t destroy you here. Losing yourself does.”

  As they spoke, Kayal suddenly glanced at Samye more closely.

  “…What about you?” he asked casually. “Do you have any super ability?”

  Samye’s hand twitched slightly.

  He looked down at it.

  The watch rested quietly on his wrist.

  “I don’t know yet,” Samye answered honestly.

  Kayal didn’t push.

  Instead, he poured drinks for Samye and the others and passed them around.

  “To surviving another year,” Kayal said.

  They drank.

  Laughter followed.

  The warriors began sharing stories — embarrassing training failures, ridiculous punishments, near-disastrous exercises that ended in bruises and pride injuries. Someone imitated an instructor’s furious yelling so well the table burst into laughter.

  Samye listened.

  Then laughed.

  For the first time in years.

  No screams.

  No blood.

  No fear.

  Just people.

  Living.

  Enjoying the night.

  Samye leaned back slightly, letting the warmth of the fire and voices wash over him.

  So this is what life was supposed to feel like, he thought.

  And for one night—

  he allowed himself to believe it could last.

  They ate and drank until their hearts were full.

  Above them, lanterns swayed gently.

  And time—

  for once—

  moved peacefully.