Well," he murmured to himself, "long time no see."
His voice echoed off the dungeon walls, then faded into the silence once more.
He turned his back to the chamber and walked away.
There was nothing more to find.
He left the dungeon with a slight serious expression on his face.
"Things are going to get ugly really quick.", he muttered before leaving.
***
Leon Vermilion lost.
The overpowered protagonist just lost to minor characters.
I was in too much shock to respond to the situation.
In the novel, he won by a large margin, completely thrashing both Magnus and Lucy.
What changed the story?
Did something happen to him?
Did he hold back on purpose?
Or… did my transmigration really shift the events?
That thought sent a chill down my spine.
Because if even Leon's fate could change, then the entire plot might be collapsing. Every moment I thought I knew could now play out differently.
It was not a turning point.
And honestly, I accepted that fact pretty quickly.
Maybe because I had read too many web novels like this before.
Stories where the plot slowly derails after a transmigrator shows up.
At first, small changes. A minor character gets a different fate. A fight goes differently. An event happens earlier than expected.
Then the snowball starts rolling.
By the time you realize, the story you knew becomes unrecognizable.
And that's exactly what was happening now.
Leon Vermilion—regressor, genius swordsman, future demon-slaying hero—just lost his first proper match.
A match he was supposed to win.
But I didn't panic.
Because I had already braced myself for this.
That's the thing with being a reader-turned-character. You learn to keep your expectations in check.
Even the protagonist can lose.
Even the story can fall apart.
And when that happens, you don't cling to what should happen.
You adapt.
I was still thinking all of this while the battles continued.
One by one, the prominent students of Class S stepped forward.
Sylphyre was next.
At this point in time, she was one of the best mages among the first year students.
But that was not all, as she hadn't the true technique of her Valtor family.
In the novel, it was said that once she inherited the Tempest Veil, a secret art passed only to direct heirs, she would become an unstoppable storm on the battlefield. But that didn't happen until much later.
At this point in the story, her skills were already well-known—top-class control, razor-sharp instincts, and an affinity for wind magic that made her seem like she danced through her fights.
But I had no clue what to expect.
Because in the novel… her actual fights were never shown.
Just summaries. One-liners. Comments from other characters praising her strength.
There were no detailed scenes, no breakdowns of her style or abilities.
The author had deliberately left a gap there, maybe saving her true display for a big future moment.
Sylphyre stepped forward, graceful and composed.
The moment the match began, it was over before anyone could truly process what happened.
She crushed her opponent.
No drama. No resistance.
It was an overwhelming display of power that left the crowd in stunned silence.
And just like that, her turn was done.
Now that I think about it, if I have to survive in this world, honing my own skills would be one hell of a task too.
Lucian had already learned one of his family's techniques known as Frost Desert, using the Ice element.
I have been trying to learn how to use mana and different techniques during the past few days , but wasn't able to use the Frost Desert technique.
Well, my turn would eventually come, so I should take this class to test my skills.
"Next up, Sylvanna Scott and Lucian Kingston from class A against Travis Lewiston from class S.", Professor Vance announced the next match.
It's finally time.
***
Meanwhile, far from the cheers and flashing spells of the academy, a different kind of meeting was unfolding.
In the outskirts of the capital, past the bustling districts and forgotten alleys, stood a decrepit, partially destroyed warehouse. The glass windows were long shattered, letting pale moonlight seep in through the gaps. Rusted beams groaned faintly with the wind, and thick vines crept through the cracks in the cement walls, as if nature itself was trying to swallow the place whole.
A faded sign hung loosely from the ceiling above the entrance, swaying slightly.
THE UNORTHODOX.
Inside, the air was thick—filled with dust, silence, and something… darker.
Five figures stood in a circle beneath the flickering light of a single, malfunctioning mana-lamp. All of them wore long black hoods that draped over their bodies like shadows made flesh. Their faces were concealed behind eerie, expressionless masks—each one slightly different, some painted with crimson lines, others engraved with runes.
There was no casual chatter.
No greetings.
Only tension.
Finally, one of them moved.
He stepped forward slowly, his figure lean, tall, almost unsettling in its stillness. When he spoke, his voice was so deep and resonant that it echoed off the cracked walls like a low growl in a predator's den.
"Is it fine to assume that you all are not going to co-operate with me?", he asked with a voice filled with rage.
Then, another one with the same build spoke up.
"It is insane of you to assume that, you would spared with such hasty decisions. Have you forgotten that Xavier has already noticed you? If he notices our movements, then our whole group might be wiped out. It's not wise to mess with him now."
The previous one spoke up before leaving the place.
"Fine, I will do it myself."
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A/N :
Please comment down your thoughts on the chapter.
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