Edico paced back and forth, his body wrapped in a thick hide of gooseflesh. All the mana in the area had responded to Sara’s call, combing waves through the grass as it shot into her channels like a tornado touching down.

This can’t be possible…. he thought. When mages established cores, their chests sucked mana from the surrounding area, usually about twenty feet or so in diameter. That was an expectation. But with Lady Reece, her core was stealing mana from the clouds and forest, likely stretching out for miles. Just standing near her was uncomfortable. He looked down from the sky and saw Lady Reece wincing in pain. She’s going to die like this!

If she didn’t tame the mana flowing through her, it would shred her mana channels and send built-up mana pressure jutting through her muscles, tearing them apart. She’d die of shock—if she didn’t, she’d die of severe tyrexis later. He needed to stop her, but….

Edico reached for her shoulder but held back. If I disrupt it…. She’ll die. The only thing that could save her life was absolute concentration. What type of cruel joke is this? I’d die from this!

No, he’d be dead. There was no doubt. If he were in her position, even now, he’d be overwhelmed. Taming that much mana… it was unthinkable. And yet… Lady Reece was alive, bearing a fearless smile. She was sweating, and the wincing told him that she was fighting for her life, but she was grinning nevertheless as if to challenge the world.

Edico began pacing back and forth, waiting, listening, wincing for an hour, expecting her to scream and die.

Yet she never did.

Then another hour passed—and another. Hope welled in his heart, making him take a few steps toward her. But he always stopped, retreating into the distance, preparing himself for the worst. It wasn’t until the third hour that his worry blended with his hope, and he found himself sitting next to Lady Reece, watching wave after wave of mana flood into her spirit channels, creating a chilling feeling in the moonlight as if the area was the lair of a legendary beast. The entire scene was incomprehensible, but the fact that she was still alive made him believe—believe that somehow, she would survive this ordeal that should’ve killed her hours ago. At most, another hour would pass, and then she’d wake from it—he was certain of it.

But she didn’t.

Hours passed until a crackling fire he made was heating her skin to keep her warm, and the moon passed over the trees, but she didn’t wake. Then, the sound of birds returned to the forest, and wagons passed by over the trade road, with merchants yelling to hurry, but she still didn’t stir. Next came the sun, bringing guards with it. Edico greeted them, explaining that something of kingdom security was happening in the forest. They left, and when he returned, Lady Reece was still in a state of enlightenment, breathing mana in an intricate web. Finally, when it had reached a full twenty-four hours, taxing his body since the previous morning, Edico succumbed to his sleep deprivation and passed out. Yet even when he awoke, gasping for breaths as he heard the sound of chirping birds awakening the new day, she was still in the same place. It wasn’t until mid-morning, when the sun reached over the trana trees, that she finally opened her eyes. And when she did, Edico witnessed something far more terrorizing than the fear he felt when she started developing her core.

When Sara’s eyes opened, she turned and saw Edico staring at her in a state of shock. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” Edico laughed and ran his fingers through his untied hair. He looked like an emotional wreck. “I don’t even know how to answer that question.”

Sara felt a bad premonition and looked down. Her shirt was drenched in sweat, her skin lobsterized and burning despite her accelerated healing. She swallowed and looked through the forest, combing her fingers through the dew-dotted grass. It was dark, but the sun was slowly returning to its throne to the sound of birds acting as its trumpets. Her intestines writhed like a coiling snake as she turned to Edico, preparing the question she knew the answer to and didn’t want him to confirm. “How long have I been out?”

Edico chuckled, staring at the sky as if asking Delina why his reward for his suffering worry was her unbridled fury. “You’ve been out….” He laughed sharply, reaching a high key. “For a day and a half.”

A day and a half? Sara thought. Mary did it in six hours! That was a major difference—a thirty-hour difference! Forget Sayon Twilight—it took Jason three hours to develop a Golden Core, and that was the top core of the kingdom!

Sara shot up, grabbing her cloak and belting on her arming sword.

“Sit down! You need to rest!”

“There’s no time for that!”

“Listen to me. Your mana channels need to set. They’ve been strained for almost two days!”

“Then give me an elixir on the road,” she said, unknotting her monta’s rope. The monta started snorting uneasily, driven on by her energy.

“Think this through.” He rushed to her side, grabbing her shoulders and turning her to him. “There’s not enough time to make it to the trial on time, and you’re not in the condition to make the trip, let alone do it faster.”

“There is enough time,” Sara shook him off and mounted her monta.

“Sure. If you go full speed, then there’s a chance, but—“

“See? There’s a chance if we go. Staying here is guaranteed failure.”

Edico turned back to the camp. “Fine. Let’s load up your armor, and we’ll go.”

“You do it. I’ll catch up.”

“I’m not leaving your side!” Edico’s voice rose. “That’s my duty!”

“Then leave it!” She wasn’t just being a bitch. Armor was heavy and clunky. She couldn’t wear it and ride fast enough, and attaching something so awkward to a monta could take thirty minutes.

“We can’t leave royal armor lying around. That’s a crime. If people wear it, they can—“

Sara released a primal, guttural roar in frustration and jumped off her monta, unsheathing her sword.

“What are you—“

Sara churned her mana core as she lifted her sword, amplifying her physical strength to the minimum amount necessary to cut through her armor. Then she swung down like a burly man driving a railroad spike. A terrorizing crunch followed as the blade punched through it, denting the armor as the sword ground through it like a rusty can opener. Then she pinned down the armor with her foot and ripped out the sword. Then she walked to the legs and hacked them off until the armor set was completely unusable.

“There. Tell the King that anyone wearing patchwork armor is a criminal. Let’s go.” Sara tried to sheath her sword, but it was bent. “God. We’re heroes, not children!” Shoving the tip into the dirt, she kicked the hilt, snapping off the blade. The kingdom believed that if she had real armor, she wouldn’t be able to fight from the weight. So they gave her thin armor and a weak arming sword, planning to trade them for array-reinforced equipment after she finished training. It was a logical move, but it was frustrating.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Holding only the handle, the only distinguishable part of the blade, Sara jumped back onto her monta. “Now I’m leaving. Catch up when you’re ready.” She guided the monta around a tree and then kicked it hard, hitting a breakneck speed through the forest.

Edico stared at the armor in a state of shock, unbelieving that he watched Lady Reece cut through royal armor with brute strength. No, it just looked that way. The most terrifying thing about Lady Reece was what happened the second after she opened her eyes. The cyclone of mana around her compressed the moment she opened her eyes, sticking onto her skin in a thin line. In an instant, she had suppressed her mana to the same natural output as she had before developing the monstrous core that he couldn’t fathom. If someone didn’t know that Lady Reece had a mana core, they wouldn’t even expect it. It was that concealed.

That was just the beginning. Just a moment ago, when Lady Reece churned her core to increase her physical strength—something that wasn’t intuitive—he barely noticed. Even for a genius, that level of control would take decades to develop—assuming it was possible.

Edico turned to Lady Reece to ask a toneless question when his mind snapped into focus, realizing that she had left. “What’s that girl thinking?” he yelled, unsheathing his dagger. He sliced through the rope of his monta, making it buck and screech. He jumped on before it even calmed, turning the reins and bursting after her, leaving the armor behind him.

Jason’s body trembled. His palms ached from being clenched so long, and his shoulders were tight and unyielding, like plastic that had melted into another shape. His skin was hot from the summer heat as he subtly kicked the sand beneath his feet.

He and the other “heroes'' were standing on the arena floor of the Royal Amphitheater. The structure wasn’t anything as grand as the Roman Colosseum, and it was empty save for the most powerful people in the entire kingdom, but it was important. Today was the Golden Trial, the day when they’d show their talent to the kingdom’s strongest and earn patrons who would buy them elixirs, body constitutions, magical artifacts, and other resources in exchange for a percentage of the treasure that they brought back from quests. It was a monumental moment for investment, and Sara wasn’t there. The other twenty-three “heroes?” They were there. They were all there, sweating balls in the sweltering heat under the piercing gazes of potential sponsors. And where was she? No one knew. It was five minutes before the fucking Trial, and she was missing.

It’d be one thing if they could just continue on, but apparently, that wasn’t possible. All the king and patrons seemed to care about was Sara Reece, the fraud of the Escaran Kingdom. They weren’t even looking at him for a few seconds before turning their gaze back to the iron gates, endlessly curious whether she would arrive. And their teacher? She was making excuses on her behalf. Critical mission this, traveling with Edico that. Aelia Twilix was a heartless bitch that punished anyone who showed up late mercilessly during training, but she was laying it on thick for Sara.

And why? That was the question that Jason kept asking over and over again, playing back like a skipping disc. It was absurd.

Hadn’t he earned that attention? He, the hero that could fight with high warriors a few months after arriving? He, who established the strongest core and had more mana than Edico and Aelia combined. He, who woke up and did sword swings before others woke up, ate healthily, practiced with concentration, made incredible strides with magic, and had the results to back it up? Even the sycounts were having trouble fighting him. Sure, he didn’t have their sword skills, and that’d take years to gain an equal footing with. Skill was measured in years, not months. He knew that better than anyone. But his raw power was terrifying, and they feared what would happen if he started unleashing spells. His talent was beyond everyone’s imagination—so why weren’t they looking at him?

It just didn’t make sense! All Sara did was swing a sword and practice language, and people fawned over her. Hell, Edico was obsessed with her swinging that goddamn sword. He was clearly a pedophile, watching her for five minutes at a stretch, thanking “Emenasa” or whoever these superstitious savages believed in, that she was technically an adult. Ultimately, that’s what it was. Sara had breasts. He finally understood what other men were talking about when they said that women got everything for free. He never noticed because he was at the top, but the moment he came here, he finally understood. Swing a sword? Here’s a promotion. Read some books? Let me give you personal tutoring.

Jason thought it was comical and wondered what men would do if he had some breasts. Priests would probably give up their god to try to assault him. That’s what. Hah. Who was he kidding? He probably wouldn’t get half of what she did. Sara was obviously sleeping with someone high up to get this level of attention, and he wouldn’t debase himself like that. Jason didn’t know what he ever saw in that slut, but he resented it. Oh, yes, he resented it. Even though he got over her months ago, she still had a hard-on for him. One look at Brandon made that clear. He turned to the teen, with his greasy black hair and strong body, a grin plastered on his face as he stood next to Emma. Sara gave that man everything.

A few days before, Jason had warned King Escar of Brandon Torres’s behavior. The teen suddenly exploded in strength and his body was improving rapidly, and he was drawing arrays he found in books. The teachers took special notice of him after that, and ever since, he had been strutting around like God’s gift, boasting of his strength and making women uncomfortable. The aggressive fucker still smelled like a homeless person who didn’t wipe, and while his acne was disappearing, his smile was crooked and hadn’t reset yet. In his mind, this world was a game, and he was going to become the hero and collect wives on his grand travels. The virgin had said as much. It was so self-centered. It was so dangerous. So Jason warned King Escar, and what happened? He told Jason that he knew he’d say that. Knew it. Absolutely knew it. Apparently, that cunt had seeded that he, HE was going to argue that the king shouldn’t give the other heroes the Golden Core until they proved their intentions!

It was a great trap—he’ll give her that. It was a perfect setup. Why? Because, of course he was going to say that! The kingdom had foolishly given a bunch of man-children power despite them having no hope of being a hero. Some wouldn’t even leave their rooms and cried and cried and demanded things. They were just going to cause problems. And Brandon was living proof of that! But Sara said it was fine, blinding King Escar to reason. And for what? Selfish fucking gain, that’s what! Sara set Jason up to seed distrust in him to King Escar so that she could continue her hellish tirade. It was disgusting. She was threatening everyone for her own gain, and she had dragged him through the muck in the process.

That cunt… oh, the things he’d do to her when he saw her next. When was that? No one knew! That day was supposed to be today, the day he was going to humiliate her senseless. But now? She wasn’t even fucking there! She was holding up the entire fucking Trial!

“Bro. Chill out,” Raul whispered, eyeing Jason up and down. “It’s a good thing she’s not here, isn’t it? That means we’ll get more resources.”

Jason almost snapped at him, but when he considered Raul’s words, his body relaxed a bit. Yeah… That was a good thing, wasn’t it? He’d get resources and get even stronger. Sara would never be able to catch up. “Yeah, you’re right.”

The last remaining minutes ticked on for what seemed like an eternity, but the time of the Trial finally came—and Sara wasn’t there. Suddenly, it felt like a great weight had been lifted from Jason’s shoulders as he studied the look of disappointment etched into the faces of the Escaran Kingdom’s most prominent. King Escar himself was practically fuming. The wave of vindication Jason felt at that moment was wonderful.

See? he silently laughed. Do you finally see it? That the person you’ve been fawning over was a fucking fraud? I hope you’re happy!

While that vindication made him feel good at first, it only amplified his anger. He was finally vindicated—after Sara had thoroughly damaged his reputation. Now, everyone in the kingdom was staring at proof of her deceit and his innocence. But would they apologize? Say, Sorry, Jason. You were right about Sara and the cores, we should’ve listened? Of course not. This uncivilized country didn’t even understand the concept of democracy. They had a dictator, and the dictator was infallible. King Escar didn’t even know how to say sorry. In fact, it was strictly prohibited for him to do so! So that fucker was going to keep dragging him through the muck to protect his superiority complex and fragile ego.

But it wouldn’t last long. Today, he would show them who they were treating like trash. And they’d be sorry. Oh, yes. They’d be sorry. Not today. Today, they’d shower him with gifts and praise, and he’d smile his greatest smile. But when he was the Hero, the strongest in the world, he’d change this archaic hellscape, and the people who brought him down would grovel at his feet for their jobs. But that was then. Right now, he needed to smile.

And so he did.

When the disappointed mumbling turned aggressive, Aelia shifted nervously. “It seems they have encountered trouble on the road,” Aelia said. “I’d like to reiterate that this was a royal mission.”

King Escar frowned. Jason’s smile became genuine when he saw it. That’s right, Lady “Tricks,” he thought, co-opting the nickname the virgins called her, dig your own grave. Shame yourself in front of—

Suddenly, an ear-piercing voice cut through the amphitheater, silencing the restless patrons. The moment he heard it, an icy chill crawled down his spine. No….

“I’ll repeat. My name is Sara Lenae Reece, Hero of the Escaran Kingdom and candidate of the Golden Trial. Now let me in at once!”