"That would be all for today," Aiden said.

Before the students could speak, their bodies were enveloped in a brilliant white light.

They reappeared somewhere that felt familiar but was not quite the same.

Before them stood a massive tree that shot into the sky, its top lost somewhere far above.

"Welcome," a voice came from above.

Although they could not see the top, the distance the voice traveled from made its origin clear.

Like a meteor, something began to fall from the sky, a blur of crimson descending fast.

As she neared the ground, her body twisted, landing with the elegance of a feline.

The momentum from falling such a distance was cancelled entirely, as if it had never existed.

Ymir’s eyes moved across the students.

She did not hide her scrutiny. She did it as though she already knew there was nothing they would do about it even if they disliked it.

After a few minutes she finally looked at them collectively.

"Before we begin, I want it known that this class will be hell," she said.

She made no effort to soften the words.

"Your only consolation is that it is a two week course."

She turned back to the tree and began walking toward it with slow, unhurried steps.

Still moving, she continued.

"The class will be divided into two parts. Theory and practical."

She reached the tree and rested her palm against its bark.

Her crimson eyes seemed to close.

But she kept speaking.

"Sit down."

As if a chain had snapped loose, the students were finally able to move.

They looked around for something to sit on.

There was nothing.

"Create a chair using your essence," Ymir said, still facing the tree, though it felt like she could see them as clearly as if she were standing right in front of them.

Azrael shrugged and began directing his essence through his core.

Or so he thought.

His core did not respond.

"Rage essence," Ymir said, her voice thundering through the space.

"This is bloodline training class. Not essence training class."

The students buckled, their bodies dropping to their knees under the weight of Ymir’s pressure.

"Until you are able to convert your essence to rage essence, you will remain under this pressure."

Before she finished the sentence, her gaze shifted.

It landed on Malaric.

The pressure slid past him completely, as though reality itself had agreed to leave him untouched.

It was not a matter of strength.

It was a matter of qualification. The pressure was never designed to affect anyone already operating on rage essence, a condition Malaric met without effort.

’Another interesting one,’ Ymir thought.

But she said nothing. Her expression did not change either.

A crimson chair formed beneath Malaric and he settled into it.

"Since one of you has already managed it, I cannot keep them waiting," she said.

"Today we will be discussing rage essence itself."

She raised her hand. Crimson essence danced across her palm.

Unlike standard elemental essence, this carried a different quality entirely. Pure essence given a different nature.

"The difference between pure essence and rage essence is not as large as most assume, but a versatile user can achieve things with rage essence that pure essence simply cannot replicate."

The essence rolled off her body, drifting through the surrounding air.

"It can never be depleted as long as the user remains in a state of anger."

’How does she expect us to absorb any of this right now?’ Azrael wondered.

His organs had already begun to protest.

Blood seeped from his nostrils in slow drips.

’Why do all of them find it so satisfying to crush children under this kind of pressure?’ He thought.

[You could have already figured out how to use rage essence with the time you have spent on these thoughts.]

The system’s voice cut through his mind, dry and unhelpful.

’I had some feel for it during the illusion. I was not completely lost,’ Azrael replied.

The system responded with an eye rolling emoji.

’You do not believe me?’ Azrael asked with a faint smile.

The system said nothing, which Azrael took as a yes.

In the next second, a crimson light enveloped his body.

Like ice melting under heat, the pressure washed over him and disappeared as quickly as it had come.

Ymir glanced at him, then continued her lecture without comment.

"Once rage essence is used to strengthen the body, it grows denser with anger. With enough rage, a person could theoretically rival someone five tiers above them."

She paused at that.

"It is only a theory though. In practice, if a Wrath demon can cross three tiers through rage essence alone, they are already considered a genius."

Her gaze moved slowly across the new additions to the group of rage essence users.

At this point only Valdren and Zuriel remained on their knees.

Meanwhile, Azrael was still engaged with his system.

[Why did you not use rage essence from the start?]

Azrael sighed.

’This is the fifth time you have asked that. Please let me focus,’ he replied.

The system asked the exact same question again.

Azrael exhaled.

’Fine. I wanted to see if the pain would be nullified the way it was when my eyes exploded earlier,’ he said.

[Do not worry about that. I already know the reason, but as usual, it will cost you.]

A greed emoji completed the sentence.

’All you care about is points,’ Azrael muttered, the image of a cartoon crab from his previous life surfacing in his mind unbidden.

"There is one drawback to using rage essence."

The words settled over the room with a weight that made everyone still.

Then she continued.

"Once you exceed your body’s limits, it will begin to crumble."

Her head turned slowly, eyes settling on one of the students.

Blood seeped from his pores. His eyes had begun to bulge. The veins beneath his skin were visible, pressing against the surface as though trying to break through.

The students stared at Malaric with wide eyes.