Chapter 242: First Selection
The atmosphere shifted instantly the moment the faceless proctor stepped into the center of the Coliseum.
Every whisper died. Every breath held.
He moved with slow, deliberate steps, his white robe trailing behind him like a ripple through water.
Intricate golden swirls were etched into the fabric, glowing faintly as if alive, pulsing in rhythm with something ancient.
His hood hung low, casting a heavy shadow where a face should be.
But there was no face.
Beneath the hood was a swirling void—darkness that churned like living smoke. No eyes. No mouth. Just a pulsing, hypnotic blackness that radiated quiet, overwhelming power.
Like staring into the center of a black hole.
A cold chill swept through the Coliseum.
Thirty players stood around the arena's edge, caught in the gravity of his presence. Half of them were still tutorial players. The other half were new realm players—stronger, more experienced, more dangerous.
Most of the players shifted uncomfortably, nerves rising in the air like static before a storm.
But scattered among them were the calm ones.
Sharp-eyed. Steady. Unshaken.
The kind of players who weren't just hoping to survive the selection.
Alex could tell right away—the ones who looked calm and confident were the new realm players.
They weren't just putting on a show.
These were people who had seen things. Fought through harder challenges. Endured way more than anything the tutorial ever threw at him.
You could see it in the way they carried themselves. No wasted movement.
No wide-eyed stares. Just quiet focus.
And when the Proctor arrived, that focus locked in.
Even Adam, who had been nothing but jokes and chatter a moment ago, went dead serious.
His whole vibe shifted.
The goofy energy vanished, replaced by something cold and unapproachable.
Alex, though, didn't flinch.
He stood there, arms crossed, letting the tension wash over him.
His eyes narrowed slightly as he studied the Proctor.
No face. No features. Just that swirling black void beneath the hood.
Activating Omni View, Alex's vision shifted. Streams of data and energy signatures danced in his sight—and immediately, he noticed something.
The Proctor was radiating a strange kind of energy.
But what stood out more was the familiarity.
He'd seen this kind of energy before—flowing from the new realm players.
Even more clearly, he remembered it surging out of Adam back when he got possessed by his deity.
It was strange.
The energy didn't feel like anything Alex had ever sensed before this—not from beasts, monsters, or even those overpowered creatures back in the tutorial.
It was like the air itself got heavier just by being near him.
And Alex wanted to understand it.
Before he could think further, the Proctor spoke.
His voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the silence like a blade.
"Welcome to the First Selection."
The players stiffened.
Then the Proctor raised a hand and calmly explained the rules.
"This trial is simple. You will endure my aura."
"It will increase in strength over time. One by one, the weak will fall."
"The moment you collapse—whether you faint, kneel, or lose consciousness—you are disqualified."
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Alex noticed the immediate shift in body language around him. Spines straightened. Breathing slowed. Everyone was mentally preparing.
Then the Proctor delivered the final blow.
"Only the last eight remaining will pass and move on to the next selection."
Eight.
Out of thirty.
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
Only eight?
That meant over two-thirds of them were getting kicked out—brutally.
The Proctor raised a hand, and the whispers died instantly.
"This trial is not merely to test endurance."
His voice echoed across the coliseum, calm but sharp.
"The second selection takes place in a realm with intense gravitational pull. If you cannot withstand my aura here, you'll be crushed there. So consider this… a kindness."
That last word lingered like a threat dressed in silk.
Alex's eyes narrowed.
Kindness, huh?
He glanced around—counting.
Fifteen tutorial players.
Fifteen new realm players.
And only eight spots?
Yeah, the odds weren't exactly stacked in his favor.
He knew it without needing a system prompt—this test wasn't made for people like him. It was built for the new realm players. The veterans.
They stood straighter. Their expressions unreadable.
Their bodies already braced for whatever was coming.
They were confident.
Prepared.
But Alex though he had the confidence aspect in the bag, didn't have the preparation.
There was no way to know what to expect.
But nevertheless, he wasn't planning on losing to anyone.
He would stay on his feet—no matter what.
Even if it killed him.
The Proctor's faceless void tilted slightly.
"Alright then. Let's begin."
There was no countdown. No warning.
Just like that—
The aura hit.
WHOOM!
It was like a silent explosion. No sound. No flash. No dramatic light show.
But the impact?
Immediate.
The air changed. It thickened.
Pressed down like a mountain had dropped from the sky.
A wave of invisible force crashed over the coliseum, slamming into every player at once.
Instantly…
Ten players dropped like dominoes.
Some face-planted straight into the dirt with heavy thuds.
Others fell backward stiffly, like their strings had been cut mid-puppet show.
A few just slumped to the side, eyes rolling back, like their souls had been yanked right out of them.
Unmoving. Unconscious. Done.
Alex raised a brow.
"Woah."
He blinked, watching the bodies scattered across the coliseum.A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"That was fast."
The players didn't even get the chance to realize they'd failed.
Above each of their unconscious forms, a faint notification flickered into view:
Ding!
[You have failed the First Selection of the Legacy Trial]
[Returning to Tutorial…]
One by one, the fallen players began to fade.
Their bodies dissolved into shimmering wisps of light—vanishing like they were never there to begin with.
Just like that… ten were gone.
Only twenty remained.
The pressure still hung in the air. Heavy. Relentless. Like a mountain slowly settling on their shoulders.
Alex exhaled through his nose, steady but alert.
His skin tingled—like tiny pins were pressing into every inch of him.
But he was holding strong.
His enhanced stats had toughened him up.
He flexed his fingers, adjusting his stance.
Then slowly scanned the others still standing.
Some standouts apart from Adam and Mikel were a guy who had hair like wildfire—literally. Blazing red strands flickering with heat, and ember-glow eyes that looked ready to burn holes through steel.
And a woman dressed in natural armor—thick vines coiled around her limbs, leafy tendrils swaying at her ankles like they had minds of their own.
There were...