Azrael’s chest rose and fell at an irregular pace.

It felt like his heart could burst free at any moment.

Around him, over ten empty vials lay scattered across the floor.

’Maybe I underestimated this exercise a little,’ he mused.

But a smile curved on his lips as he looked at the tiny mote floating before him.

His entire essence, concentrated into a single point.

Looking at it, he could already sense the potential packed inside it. If he were to power any skill with this, the lethality would be beyond anything he had produced before.

"No wonder this is emphasized so heavily."

[You don’t understand the weight of this yet,]

’I know,’ Azrael replied, looking around. He was the only one who had finished.

’He might truly have an Infernal core,’ Sylvester thought, studying the mote from the platform.

This exercise was never designed to be completed on the first attempt. It was one of the most demanding things a cultivator could do. Not one of the students had ever managed it on day one before.

Sylvester flickered from the platform and reappeared inside the dome directly in front of Azrael.

"Why did you stop?" He asked.

Azrael blinked.

"I finished. Is that not what this class is for?"

"Did I tell you to stop once you finished?" Sylvester asked.

A sharp light flashed from his frame, cutting cleanly through the mote and reducing it to fine mist that drifted away.

Azrael’s brow twitched involuntarily.

"Continue until class ends."

Sylvester vanished in a flicker of white light.

[The bar also rises once your potential becomes visible to others.]

The system said with a smirk emoji.

’That much is obvious now,’ Azrael replied, reaching for another vial.

He plugged his nose and poured the contents into his mouth, groaning as he swallowed.

He started the process again, releasing his essence before it could fully replenish.

Unlike before, he did not try to slow the condensation, he pulled everything together as fast as he could.

One thing the first attempt had taught him was that the slower the condensation, the worse the pain became. So instead of being methodical, he pushed the convergence as fast as he could control it.

He hissed, teeth clenched against his lips until they bled.

Crackle.

Cracks spread across his face.

A searing heat wrapped around his entire body.

It felt as though he was walking through the hottest flames in the world.

"Why is it so much worse this time?" Azrael groaned.

[That instructor is more calculating than I gave him credit for.]

The system said, then went quiet again before adding:

[It is for your benefit though. Would you pay two thousand SP to learn the reason?]

Azrael did not reply.

His entire focus was on the raging essence he was trying to contain.

His body could not draw on regeneration either. He was empty.

Then a thought surfaced.

The converging essence began to divert, flowing back into his body just enough to feed his regeneration skill.

[That was clever.]

The system said.

Cling.

A bell rang through the space, one that had not appeared in any previous class.

In that instant, everything dissolved. The fatigue, the pain, the depletion, gone as though none of it had ever happened.

Azrael rose to his feet, brows lifted slightly.

Whatever that cleansing was, it hit harder and cleaner than his regeneration ability ever had.

At the same time, the dome encasing him faded.

"See you tomorrow," Sylvester said from his chair.

The students stood motionless for a moment, processing the abrupt end.

"You have another class now," Sylvester said, not looking up.

That was all it took.

The students shook off their daze and began moving toward the door.

"What kind of being are you?" Zephyr asked as he fell into step beside Azrael.

"A talented one?" Azrael replied, his expression genuinely puzzled by the question.

The way he looked at Zephyr made it seem like the answer was obvious.

"You might honestly have fared better in the Pride Lineage," Nyx muttered, shaking her head.

"How are you holding up, Malaric?" Azrael asked, not bothering to respond to Nyx.

"I am fine. Thank you."

Azrael nodded.

They stepped through the door together.

’This door really is strange. It drops each of us in a different place depending on where we ended up during the class,’ Azrael thought, glancing back at the nothingness he had just walked out of.

The door did not appear to exist anywhere outside the Essence Training classroom.

"Welcome. I have been looking forward to seeing you all," Yvonne said, a smile forming on her lips as the students appeared.

Every student felt a sudden chill run through them without explanation.

Yvonne was about to answer why.

"Today your class will be held in a personal dungeon I created overnight."

As she spoke, she gestured toward a glowing circle of pure essence ahead of them.

The space around it seemed to warp inward, bending toward the circle’s edge.

"But before we go in, Azrael, were you able to use the soul core I gave you?" She asked, turning back toward the group.

Azrael nodded.

"Yes. Thank you," he replied.

Yvonne smiled, then let the expression settle back into something serious.

"Good. Now, the rules and objectives for today."

Silence fell over the class immediately.

She continued.

"This dungeon contains hundreds..."

She paused briefly.

"No. Thousands of constructs. Tier one and two. Every single one will attack you on sight."

She let that land before going on.

"Your goal is not to fight them. It is to reach the finish line. You are not to engage any construct directly. You may only evade."

A quiet exhale left her lips.

"The one restriction is this. You may use pure essence freely, in any form, as long as it is not applied to direct combat."

She brought her hands together, giving the students a moment to absorb everything.

"You should have it by now," she said, her voice quieter. "Begin."