Noah walked through the campus, hands shoved into his pockets, his mind replaying what Kelvin had told him.
Apparently, during his "accidental" deep dive into the school's mainfra, Kelvin had stumbled across sothing interesting.
Today, there would be a general signboard announcent requesting all students to gather at the school's general hall—the sa place where the gala event had been held a few weeks ago.
And as Noah moved through the crowd, he started hearing bits and pieces of conversation that confird it.
Those with mobile devices had already seen the notification plastered all over the student forum.
"Yo, did you see the announcent? They're calling everyone."
"Yeah, what the hell? Even training sessions are canceled."
"They're really taking this tournant seriously…"
Noah exhaled through his nose.
'So it's true. Even regular classes, training—hell, everything—has been put on hold just for this tournant.'
It was almost like the war against the Harbingers had taken a backseat. As if the school had decided that, for now, the future soldiers of humanity needed to shift their focus elsewhere.
'If they're pulling all stops for this, the selection process has to be brutal.'
The sheer volu of students walking the sa path as him made it clear—this wasn't going to be a small competition.
Year One had three different classes. Year Two had three as well. But Year Three? They had only one class—and that class consisted of the Top 25 students in the entire school.
'Well, at least… before the Cannadah trip.'
That mission had been a bloodbath.
All Year One students had been accompanied by their Year Three-ranked seniors as chaperones, but in the end, only eight of those top students had co back alive.
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Noah's jaw tensed at the thought.
'So if I had to guess, there are going to be hundreds of students trying to get into this tournant.'
'How the hell are they even going to sort through everyone?'
Would it be a ranking battle? Elimination matches? A combat trial?
Whatever it was, one thing was clear—if he wanted to level up, he'd have to get in.
With the evidence he now had on Commander Albright, the entire landscape had shifted. The power dynamic was no longer as one-sided as before. Noah finally had so leverage—sothing to keep the man at bay if it ever ca down to it.
That didn't an he was completely out of danger, though. He knew Albright wasn't soone who played fair. The man had influence, resources, and the ability to make people disappear without a trace.
But was Noah worried? Not particularly.
Albright may have been a threat, but he wasn't Noah's priority right now.
The tournant was.
And for that, Noah had already made up his mind—he wasn't going to rely too heavily on his system abilities. Not the obvious ones, at least. He couldn't risk exposing himself too soon until he had a plan to safely reveal himself.
Still, that didn't an he was walking into this event unard.
His self-healing ability was an ace up his sleeve—sothing that, if used right, could make all the difference in prolonged fights. Then there was his Void Blink, a short-range teleportation skill that, when used sparingly, could be passed off as sheer speed or agility rather than outright supernatural ability.
But beyond his system skills, he had Chi now.
That changed everything.
Noah wasn't a master at it yet, but he'd already figured out small chi infusions—the ability to channel it into his strikes for added power. He had also begun experinting with chi transference, allowing him to move energy between diums. With a little more practice, he was sure he could weaponize it completely before the tournant began.
It was all coming together.
The best part? Winning the tournant outright wasn't even necessary.
Noah didn't need to be crowned champion. He just needed to be there, to compete, and to make himself seen.
He knew how these things worked.
The tournant wasn't just about interschool bragging rights. It was a scouting ground.
The Arc Initiative—the governing body that operated the Arc, a massive space station orbiting Earth and the pinnacle of human defense—would be watching. They always were.
For years, students who stood out in these tournants—those who showcased talent, power, or strategic brilliance—often found themselves on a fast track to an invitation to the Arc.
That was his real goal.
Getting to the Arc wasn't just about prestige. It was about getting access to information, resources, and people who actually moved the gears of the world.
It made sense.
It all just made sense.
With his hands in his pockets, Noah exhaled slowly, feeling that familiar pull of excitent in his chest.
This was his mont.
His chance to push himself.
His chance to level up.
And he wasn't going to waste it.
The entrance of the hall was just around the corner and just like he rembered it, the doors were too tiny for the numbers of them that were entering all at once.
The mont Noah stepped into the hall, chaos greeted him.
Students were flocking in from all directions, voices overlapping in a ssy symphony of chatter, excitent, and confusion. The sheer number of people made the air feel thick, the heat of bodies pressing in from all sides.
It was a madhouse.
He scanned the crowd, imdiately spotting familiar faces.
Year 1 students were clustered together by class—1A, 1B, and 1C. His own class, 1B, was scattered across the hall, so standing in small groups, others looking just as lost as he felt.
Then there was Adrian Albright.
Surrounded by girls as always, his signature blonde hair falling across his face. It was almost laughable. The son of Commander Albright, the so-called golden boy, known not for his skills or intelligence even though he was undoubtedly one of the brightest sparks in year 1, was rather known for his status as the school's resident female magnet.
'His father must be so proud,' Noah thought dryly.
There was a ti when seeing Adrian surrounded like this would have bothered him. When he might have even felt a hint of jealousy.
But now?
Now, he had Sophie.
Sophie Reign.
The prettiest girl on campus.
And as if summoned by his thoughts, he saw her.
His eyes landed on her near the center of the hall, and for a second, the rest of the noise seed to dim.
She stood in conversation with Lucas Grey.
Lucas—the number one ranked student in Year 3. The strongest student in the school.
They were talking, laughing about sothing. The easy way Sophie tilted her head, the way Lucas smirked— they seed to be talking about sothing funny.
Then Lucas looked up, saw him and waved.
Sophie turned to look too.
And just like that, the two of them began walking toward him.
As soon as Sophie reached him, she wrapped her arms around Noah, pulling him into a tight hug.
"I missed you," she murmured, her voice soft in his ear.
Noah smirked but hugged her back just as tightly. "We saw each other two days ago," he teased.
Sophie pulled back just enough to playfully slap his chest. "That's two days too long."
Noah chuckled, shaking his head. Truthfully, he had missed her too. They hadn't seen each other all through the previous day—she hadn't been on campus, and he'd been chasing down a lead.
Not that he was going to ntion that.
As they separated, Lucas Grey stepped forward.
Noah and Lucas locked eyes, exchanged nods, then dapped each other up in that casual but familiar way that said they had built so form of respect between them.
"Still standing, huh?" Lucas said with a small smirk.
"You sound like you expected otherwise," Noah shot back.
Lucas chuckled. "Just making sure you're keeping up."
Sophie rolled her eyes at their subtle jabs, but she was smiling as she stood between them.
Their conversation naturally flowed into talk about the selection process.
Lucas leaned against one of the nearby pillars, arms crossed. "This year's thod is different from before."
"Different how?" Noah asked, curious.
"Usually, they just pick the representatives based on combat assessnt scores and expedition performances. That's how we always did it," Lucas explained. "But after the disasters of the last two expeditions…" He let the words hang, and the unspoken truth was heavy between them.
The last two expeditions had been catastrophic. Students had died. So of the strongest from Year 3 were gone. The school couldn't afford another screw-up.
"So what's the new strategy?" Noah asked.
Lucas shrugged slightly. "That's what we're about to find out."
And right on cue, a loudspeaker crackled to life.
The sheer volu sent a wave of silence rolling through the hall as every conversation halted.
Then ca the voice—confident, commanding, and smooth.
"Attention, students."
Every head turned toward the center stage.
And there she was.
Miss Brooks.
Noah's horoom teacher. 1B's teacher. Sharp as always, dressed in an outfit that hugged her curves just enough to draw attention but still commanded authority.
And judging by the way every single student turned their heads toward her, it wasn't just her words that caught attention.
It was her.
Noah, Lucas, and Sophie remained standing together as Miss Brooks greeted the hall, her voice calm yet firm.
And with that, the real event was about to begin.
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