Chapter 529: Regret?

Michael’s eyes narrowed at the distant bursts of orange and gold cutting through the mist.

Brian.

Just thinking of him made Michael’s jaw tighten. Getting attacked for no reason by someone he knew was already infuriating enough.

But what made it worse was the ridiculous strength Brian had displayed.

If Michael hadn’t known his own true strength, this humiliation alone might have been enough to shatter someone else.

He hated to admit it, but Brian’s display of power gnawed at him. For a newly awakened, it bordered on monstrous.

With that level of power, skills alone couldn’t account for it—Brian’s class level had to be higher than most at their stage.

Michael himself was an anomaly too, but his circumstances were unique, shaped by conditions that couldn’t be replicated.

So beyond the sharp edge of hate, there was something else simmering inside him—curiosity.

If Michael had known Brian was only lashing out to feed his own pride, desperate to feel strong by forcing Michael into retreat, the knowledge would have only deepened his anger.

"Annoying bastard," Michael muttered, his breath white in the mist.

The explosions in the distance flared brighter, echoing louder through the fog.

Michael hesitated only a breath longer. Then he pushed forward again, Ghostwind Steps pulling him back toward the heat of the fight

The fog split wider as he approached, the outlines of several figures dancing in the glow of fire. A quick glance revealed Seven.

All of them converging on one point, their movements sharp and hungry.

Michael slowed, his eyes flicking over the scene, and immediately pieced it together.

One could say this challenge was a battle of roles .

Roles. The system had divided the participants into roles for this trial.

Hunters, Hunted, and Freemen.

Hunters hunted the Hunted. The Hunted tried to survive, scrambling not to be caught. Freemen—people like him—had their own path, hunting the Hunter to gain boosts before the cycle reset.

Seven against one could only mean one thing. They were Hunters. And the one desperately holding them back with firestorms, straining to keep them at a distance... was Brian.

Michael’s eyes narrowed. His own map had been blank, giving him nothing to track with. But seeing the Hunters press Brian in such numbers made him suspect something.

Maybe the Hunters and Hunted had some way to locate each other directly, unlike the Freemen.

That would explain how they found him so quickly.

The seven weren’t weak. Not exactly. Individually, each one would’ve been nothing in front of Brian’s power. But together they closed in like wolves, blades flashing and spells bursting in tandem.

And still, Brian raged against them. His mastery over fire wasn’t just a show—he was actually holding his ground, even as he staggered back under the press of blades and spells.

Michael’s brow furrowed as he studied his enemy.

Brisn wasn’t letting any of them get near. His fire pushed outward keeping every attacker at bay.

That was telling.

Michael’s lips pressed into a thin line.

So, that’s it.

The one thing Brian couldn’t afford... was close combat.

If he had a weakness in this space, it was probably his physical stats based on his actions.

Michael stayed crouched in the mist, watching as the fire mage threw another storm of heat to scatter the Hunters.

The fact that Brian was still standing was proof of his strength. Even crippled in this virtual space, the boy was monstrous.

Whether every other dual class awakener was like this was uncertain.

*

Brian’s firestorm tapered for the briefest moment as Michael vanished into the mist. His eyes narrowed, a sharp exhale leaving his lips.

"So he ran..."

A flicker of satisfaction stirred in his chest, but in the very next moment—

BOOM!

The ground shuddered, and figures broke through the haze.

Seven of them.

Brian’s gaze sharpened immediately, but his mind was even sharper. Looking at their timing alone, he knew they hadn’t

just

arrived. They had probably been waiting and watching. Waiting for him to burn himself out against Michael.

"Clever bastards..." he muttered under his breath, flames curling faintly around his palm.

Seven against one. If it had been just one Hunter, he wouldn’t have flinched. Two? Annoying, but manageable. But seven in this crippled space... that was another matter entirely.

His teeth clenched as he lashed out, a sweeping arc of fire pushing the closest blade-wielder back. His lips pulled into a thin grimace.

Exactly like Michael had suspected, his edge here wasn’t raw stats. It was skill—refinement, control, mastery. His points were sunk into agility and intelligence, his power built around speed and spellcraft.

And it worked.

Damn it.

A sliver of regret cut through him. He never should have wasted his time with Michael. That little duel had drained his attention and time. Now, surrounded, he realized just how stupid it had been.

If he got eliminated here—by a pack of nobodies, after pushing Michael back—the shame would be unbearable.

But worse than shame...

His father’s face flickered across his mind. The man had only recently begun to look at him with pride. Only after his Awakening had the faint warmth of being treated like a true relative finally touched him. If Brian failed now... if he got cast aside because he was too reckless...

His flames burned hotter, teeth grinding together.

No!

*

Michael crouched low in the fog, his spear angled across his knees as his gaze swept over the clash ahead.

The air burned with heat, shadows of flame licking across the mist.

His fingers flexed against his weapon as a growing temptation whispered to him.

If he eliminated all seven Hunters here, he’d gain seven more attribute points across all his stats and his chances in this space would soar.

But it was risky. Too risky.

So Michael curbed the urge.There was still time. No need to rush.

For now, he would wait. The battle between the eight would reveal the right solution.

Whether he’d advance or retreat depended on the situation.