The Unvanquished: Child of Nihility-Chapter 87: The Arena’s Echo

Chapter 87: The Arena’s Echo – (Not all monsters are born in dungeons. Some are forged in classrooms.)

---

And from that ripple, a man appeared–seemingly born from the void between dimensions.

Mentor Gray. (Emmett Lee disguised)

His boots made no sound as he landed on the black tile. His gray eyes scanned the area, sharp as razors yet weary with irritation.

His gaze hovered over the exact spot where the gate had just dissipated.

"Hmph. Teleportation interference protocol didn’t even trigger... must be one of those underground fools," he muttered, brushing an imaginary dust from his coat sleeve. "Always so proud of their tech. Thinking they can sneak past the supernatural path anytime they wish."

His voice was calm, but edged. Calculated fury beneath practiced stillness.

He tapped his wrist device.

A flat screen hovered beside him, then projected a diagram of UCv1’s villa zone.

He narrowed in on one pin.

Villa 12 – Occupant: Tyler Sherman.

A low breath escaped him. His frown deepened.

"That damn woman..." he said under his breath, tone dark. "It must be her mother from the underground state. They have started moving..."

How could he not know whose handiwork it was?

’Did she make a move herself, or is it one of the underground blades?’ he thought, but shook it off.

The screen flickered once, then faded. But Emmett Lee remained there, unmoving. As though sensing the afterimage of choices already made.

And weighing what must come next.

when he was about to leave the scene, he detected a scent he was certain he could never mistake, an assassin is in the academy... "Huh, this scent... It’s Coming from the northern edge of the unique zone. Which sneaking rat could that be?"

---

UCv1 – Villa 03, Cultivation Chamber | 5:00 AM

The chamber was silent, save for the faint hum of the DX-Mano Fitter energy platform beneath Morca.

Morca opened his eyes.

A dull crimson flickered in his right iris before fading into its usual cold gleam. He exhaled quietly, lowering his hand from his chest as the last strand of black-red energy dispersed into the air.

The night-long cultivation was complete.

His body felt lighter–not in the way of physical weight, but as if a pressure had been lifted from within. The fusion of blood and mana was now a steady rhythm in his veins. He didn’t break through a rank, not yet, but he had stepped closer to something clearer. Something more stable.

He flexed his fingers. No tremble. No backlash. Only silence.

Then—

Ding.

A subtle notification tone echoed from his wrist device.

He blinked.

"...I ignored that last night." His voice was low, more to himself than anything.

He remembered that while he was cultivating last night, he had a series of notifications, but he couldn’t help it as he was in a deep cultivation state, so he ignored them.

"Let’s check the content," he muttered and then tapped a few times on the device. The device interface lit up, and the missed message hovered at the top of the queue. One sender. One line of preview text.

[From: Tyler Sherman]

He tapped it open.

---

Message:

If I don’t show up tomorrow... just know I’m not giving up. I’m choosing something different. To grow faster. Stronger.

Maybe even stranger to you.

But I’ll return.

And next time–

–next time, I’ll walk beside you. Not behind.

–Tyler

---

Morca stared at the message for a long moment, his expression still as stone.

"What does she mean by ’if she doesn’t show up tomorrow’ ...?"

His voice was low, more breath than sound, echoing faintly in the chamber. His brows creased–not with confusion, but with a slow-forming realization.

"Wait... is she leaving the academy?" he muttered, eyes narrowing. "If so... where is she going?"

Tyler...

He remembered the determined expression she wore when he’d said change is constant earlier at the cafeteria. He could imagine the hesitation in her mind when making this decision.

Tyler had always been colder to others.Calculated. Sharp.

But in front of him, she softened in strange ways. He understood her well–perhaps too well. Behind her stubbornness was the same thing he saw in his own reflection: ambition. The need to prove something. To rise.

’She must’ve made a major decision... and maybe–just maybe–that’s her opportunity.’

His gaze dimmed for a moment, thoughts flickering through fragments of memory.

"And there might also be some place beyond the academy," he murmured. He was sure of it.

Instructor Calem’s class today still echoed in his mind–veiled truths, fractured history, and hints of a world far deeper than Eden Domineer’s walls. A world none of them fully understood yet.

He didn’t sigh. He didn’t frown. His face remained unreadable–but his eyes, just for a moment, shifted. Sharpened.

He closed them briefly, letting the weight of her message settle like dust in quiet air.

Then–

Ding.

Another alert buzzed into his vision, piercing the stillness.

---

[New Message – Instructor Haister]

[Combat Techniques & Monsterology Class – Mandatory Attendance]

Time: 7:00 AM – Central Arena B1

Uniform Required

---

The moment fractured.

"I guess it’s time to go... and be prepared for today’s trouble," he muttered as he lowered his wrist slowly.

He stood from the DX-mano platform, his steps smooth and deliberate. The last ripple of energy sank into the floor behind him as the chamber’s dim light flickered once.

He didn’t look back.

The crimson-black core pulsing within his chest had grown denser overnight. More defined.

And the silence wrapped around him now... felt heavier. He walked toward the reinforced chamber door.

The dawn wouldn’t be quiet.

Not anymore.

---

Central Arena B1 – 06:56 AM

Morning haze still lingered across the academy skyline, but deep below the Central Zone, the subterranean combat hall pulsed with a different kind of dawn.

Central Arena B1.

A circular, obsidian-floored coliseum carved into the earth itself–its towering walls lined with faintly glowing runes, pulsing softly with regulated supernatural energy. High above, the arena ceiling shimmered like dark crystal glass, filtering blue light from aboveground towers and casting it across the tiered platforms.

At the center stood the main platform: wide, matte, layered with impact-absorbent alloy. A place not for lectures... but for battle.

Rows of cadets had begun to gather along the lower tiers. Some stood silently, arms folded. Others whispered, eyes darting between faces they hadn’t seen since the Orientation Trial. Every member of the Unique Class had been summoned.

One thing to note there were no chair or something of similar object was present in the hall only an open space.

The all fell silence for a moment as only one sound could be heard on the subterranean combat hall an approaching foot steps

Step. Step.

A soft echo rolled from the upper corridor.

From one of the four reinforced gates, a lone figure entered.

Morca Sherman.

His navy-blue uniform hung perfectly, crisp and quiet. The air around him carried no aura, no heat. But cadets instinctively made space, parting like water drawn back from a descending blade.

Some stepped away from the path.

Others just watched.

He said nothing. His eyes–one crimson, the other veiled–remained forward as he stood near the edge of the central platform. The left side of his trench coat fluttered faintly. Silent tension followed.

Among those observing were a few familiar figures:

Denis Sherman, now standing straighter than before, eyes calm but attentive. He had made up his mind not to compare with that guy. he will let his actions speak.

Leo Mordric, arms crossed, golden gaze unreadable, his usual smugness dimmed to a focused silence. His expression pale due to unknow reason..

Max and Brian Magnus, stood apart, yet unmistakably sharp–Brian smiling like a lion about to wake up hungry.

Gina Erickson was also present wearing a little smile that enhanced her beauty to another noth, her sharp violet eyes scan the hall moving from one cadet to another as if trying to see through everyone reaction.

The three who came late to the class yesterday were also present. Infact they could even be said to be the first to get here...

Then–

Boom.

A sharp, clear pulse rang from the main speaker nodes.

The arena lights brightened. A holographic sigil formed above the center platform, slowly rotating.

The gate behind the instructor’s podium hissed.

And Instructor Haister stepped forward.