Sigh…
The doors to the gravity chamber opened for themselves as Anon exited.
What was it like, to walk out of that room and enter the outside world?
'Truly, an otherworldly experience.' Anon lightly chuckled.
It felt like this.
Whilst inside the gravity room was a torturous world, outside felt like a completely different realm.
When the allotted time for the session ended, they were all notified simultaneously. As Anon exited the gravity room, the other geniuses stepped into the hallway.
Nickyle was still in the healing pod, leaving only five of them. Among them, Seth appeared to be the calmest.
Noticing this, Anon frowned.
'Catharina... even me,' Anon groaned, his body soaked in sweat and his complexion noticeably pale.
Seth's skin was naturally unnaturally pale, making it difficult to assess his condition based on appearance alone.
His eyes shone with that usual bloody luster.
'Don't tell me, his strength has reached such a stage...'
A stage where the gravity chamber, at least, the gravity it was set on by Rolan, wasn't challenging.
The second world?...
'If this is the case, things are slightly troublesome.' Anon thought.
But he was forced out of such thoughts by Andrew who shakily exited the gravity room directly opposite his own.
He didn't make much noise but some slight groans, yet he couldn't even walk straight, leaning against the wall to exit the hallway.
He ignored the others, as did they ignore each other, except Seth, who casually approached Anon with a smirk.
'This smirk…' Anon squinted his eyes.
He had to admit that his default expression was an indifferent and cold persona, which might deter others from approaching him.
In contrast, Seth mostly wore a smirk, yet people still retreated from his gaze.
'Yes, it's his gaze more than the smirk,' Anon assessed.
His gaze wasn't inviting, nor was it truly indifferent. There was a mischievousness in it, but not the kind that inspired trust.
Instead, his gaze exuded an unmistakable sense of danger.
And yet, there were some women that would fall head over heals for this clearly dangerous no-good of a man.
This was a type of beauty in and of itself.
"Someone seems to be tormented by these rooms."
Seth's mocking tone was obvious as the duo reached the end of the hallway and descended the flight of stairs.
"What can I say," Anon indifferently replied, "Maybe if I could also utilize a magic ritual or two, then I'd not be in this state."
In fact, he'd already be in the second world.
The combat hall had several floors, so it took the duo some time to reach the bottommost level.
However, on their way down, they caught up to and surpassed others who were trembling, leaning against the railings as they slowly made their way down the stairs.
"A profound art?" Seth leisurely said this, "Maybe this would be the case, maybe it wouldn't…"
Giggling, he continued, "Who knows, you might've gotten addicted to the feeling and shattered your own mind."
As they reached the first floor, they crossed paths with the woman, Lyla, whom they met last night.
But as if not even recognizing her, the duo seemed lost in their own world, she did not exist.
Lyla saw this and did not react.
She had come to know of these two, both being stellar geniuses, both being at the top of this program.
But one of them, she'd meet soon, and that was when it'd be on her as the adult, to 'teach' them manners.
After exiting the combat hall, they made their way to the dorm, where they met Elissa.
"Dinner's been prepared slightly earlier for you guys," she said, her expression warm but worried.
"That Rolan is too much. How can he have you miss lunch and then overwork you in the gravity chambers?"
She practically pushed them up the stairs, hurrying them along.
On the first floor, she awaited Andrew, but time passed, and he didn't show up. A thought flashed through her mind, causing her to frown inexplicably, "Mad, mad, mad! That damnable Rolan!"
Within the enlightenment tower, screams resounded out.
Andrew's bellow, and Melissa's ear-piercing howl, both intertwined to make a beautiful cacophony that made Aren's body tremble with pleasure.
"Are we going to the white room tonight?" Seth asked with amusement.
"I'm not a masochist," Anon frowned and replied, "In this state, by sparring with a bastard like you, all I'll be doing is asking for a beatdown."
The duo ate dinner in silence. After a while, Seth snickered.
"If only you knew."
Anon raised his gaze and studied Seth for a moment. "Know?"
"Indeed, no one dared speak to me like this." A strange gleam flickered in Seth's blood-red eyes.
…
In the darkness of his room, Anon sat on the edge of his bed, staring into the void.
Seth's words repeated in his mind.
"At times, it's as if he's not some sixteen-year-old young master."
Sighing…
"But what would it change even if he wasn't?"
'Even if it was some foreign demon that possessed Seth, it only confirms dead mother's words. There is no doubt, that he is the devil.'
Before Anon knew it, lost in thought, he fell asleep.
Usually, there was some hesitation when it came to him and sleeping.
Especially now.
Currently, he hadn't gotten nightmares in for two and three days, it was an unreliable time.
He could very easily find himself in a dreamworld where endless torment awaited him, stronger than ever before.
Yet the exhaustion from his training had reached a point where meditation could no longer fully restore his spirit.
At least, the time he'd need to meditate for would surpass twelve hours.
Simultaneously, he also needed to sleep even if he meditated.
Staying awake for an overly long time, especially when one's cultivating, would see their strength sharply decline.
It just so happened, tomorrow he was facing Seth.
Unlike in the spars that they did in the past month, tomorrow they'd be truly going all out.
After all, before, they weren't overseen by anyone.
Much less the risk of killing one another by mistake, even after their spars, whatever injury they suffered would have to heal naturally.
Although stellar fighters had much higher regenerative abilities, it was still a pain in the ass to have a broken rib or shattered bone for the next few hours.
With Rolan and Parkinson present, neither would be capable of killing the other.
But at the same time, with them both not holding back, they'd finally be capable of tasting what it's like to face the other, truly.
Anon didn't desire to squander this chance.
Even the loser would benefit after Rolan dissected the battle.
So, when the light of day permeated the vicinity within his dorm room, Anon slowly came to, pleased.
In fact, there was still a moon in the current world.
The stars, far beyond yet seemingly close to the world's exosphere, were all linked together.
Though they paled in comparison to the sun of the old world, their connection seemed intentional, mimicking what the sun could achieve.
'Father said he did that…'
Anon thought casually as he got out of bed and began preparing himself.
There wasn't a definite uniform for those in the camp of ten thousand.
Martial Zone #91 provided tactical wear: six uniforms made from a fabric that was soft yet firm, lightweight yet durable.
These uniforms featured cooling properties and were resistant to water and fire. This technology, mass-produced, was genuinely created by the earthlings.
After all, even fifty years ago, humans could make something similar.
The current world simply utilized its advanced technology to enhance this clothing.
Wearing his tactical boots, Anon stepped out of his room around seven. Even in high school, he had ventured out early in the morning, so this routine felt familiar. Coincidentally, Seth emerged from his room at the same time, already dressed.
"Didn't you just leave your room a few minutes before nine yesterday?" Anon asked, thinking to himself, 'As expected of the devil; he observes me in ways I don't understand.'
Yet Seth managed to distance himself from the title of stalker with relative ease.
"Well, I'm a little excited," Seth replied. He didn't smile, but his eyes sparkled. "After all, not every day do I get to defy certain concepts."