The arena remained completely silent until Moody pulled the dagger out from the last one.

  O’Neill wiped the blade clean against its fur, then looked toward the head of the Barbrose Clan.

  “Ahem… ahem…” Clan Patriarch Nick Barbrose was the first to regain his composure, breaking free from the strange atmosphere.

  He glanced around and realized that everyone else was just as stunned as he was.

  He was confused about the ability O’Neill had used, but considering his age, he was extremely satisfied!

  It wasn’t that O’Neill was overwhelmingly powerful by the clan’s standards—there were many Barbrose members capable of defeating three opponents or more.

  But the most important point was this: Moody was not even ten years old yet!

  In the patriarch’s eyes, this boy had a brilliant future ahead of him—his talent even surpassed that of his daughter, Astreith!

  Remember, when Astreith was ten, even she would have struggled greatly to face three demonic beasts at once during hunting trips.

  Yet O’Neill had not only defeated three—he had done so with effortless precision!

  The difference in talent was obvious. In the patriarch’s judgment, O’Neill’s aptitude exceeded his daughter’s.

  In the Barbrose Clan, the law of survival of the fittest was revered.

  Naturally, Astreith’s standing in her father’s heart subtly declined as O’Neill surpassed her.

  Thus, the patriarch made up his mind to adopt the method proposed by Rebus!

  But this time, the target would not be Rebus’s foolish son, Jobs—it would be O’Neill!

  The patriarch coughed loudly, and his voice stirred the unusually quiet crowd.

  The clan members looked at him, then at Moody, as if finally processing what had just happened.

  They had truly witnessed something extraordinary today.

  First, there was the absurd and unfair selection trial, where a nine-year-old child faced a special demonic beast of Apprentice Level Two—something even newly matured clan members would struggle with.

  Then there was the terrifying aura he emitted, like that of a grim reaper.

  After that, he killed the Level Two beast as easily as if it were a kitten.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  And then—this unprecedented child faced three more demonic beasts. Even more astonishing, he defeated them with far less effort than before.

  The three Level Two beasts had practically lost all will to fight after a single glance from him, left completely at his mercy.

  “Very good… You have once again completed this selection trial. Now, do you have anything to say, O’Neill?”

  The patriarch’s tone had never been this gentle before—not even toward his own daughter.

  This alone showed O’Neill’s current status in his eyes.

  Unlike the ordinary clan members, the patriarch and several experts had vaguely sensed something during the battle—an attack of spiritual energy.

  O’Neill must have used the foundational psychic power of the spiritual domain: the Spiritual Sea of Consciousness!

  That was the conclusion reached by the patriarch and the elders, including O’Neill’s adoptive father, Ulric.

  As for what kind of special ability it was—that was their primary speculation.

  A spiritual talent! O’Neill must possess an innate spiritual talent to awaken the Spiritual Sea of Consciousness at such a young age.

  The patriarch took a deep breath and forced himself to maintain a kind expression.

  If their suspicions were true, O’Neill’s value within the clan was immeasurable.

  A nine-year-old capable of wielding such terrifying spiritual power… it was simply shocking.

  Meanwhile, O’Neill was checking his own condition.

  After confirming that he had only consumed part of his spiritual power from the Sea of Consciousness, he relaxed and looked toward the clan’s highest authority—Patriarch Nick, Astreith’s father.

  “Clan Leader, I have nothing to say,” O’Neill smiled. “But I do have one request.”

  He paused, waiting.

  “What request?” the patriarch asked curiously.

  He had already decided—so long as it wasn’t excessive, he would grant it.

  Even if O’Neill asked for Astreith’s hand in marriage, he would consider it reasonable. That was the privilege of the strong.

  “My request is very simple.”

  A glint flashed in O’Neill’s golden eyes, making the patriarch feel as though he were facing an equal rather than a child.

  “Keep sending demonic beasts. I want to continue fighting.”

  What a golden opportunity! Why not take advantage of it to gain combat experience?

  To refuse would be foolish.

  No matter how many beasts the clan had captured today, O’Neill intended to kill them all.

  To him, they were nothing more than experience points.

  ---

  A strange spectacle was unfolding in the Barbrose arena—one that would be recorded in clan history.

  After killing three Level Two demonic beasts, O’Neill had requested more opponents.

  To everyone’s surprise, the patriarch agreed.

  One by one, beasts were released.

  This time, however, they fought him individually.

  The outcome was predictable.

  Even Level Two beasts were no match for O’Neill.

  As for Level One beasts—they were even less threatening.

  After four more Level Two beasts fell, there were hardly any left.

  O’Neill fought to his heart’s content, defeating each beast almost instantly with his agile speed and auxiliary abilities.

  The clan members were numb by now—no cheers, no gasps, no shock.

  Until finally, only one beast remained.

  The last one.

  “O’Neill,” the patriarch said, “are you certain you can continue?”

  “You must be exhausted. And this last beast… will not be easy.”

  This time, he was genuinely concerned.

  O’Neill’s performance had completely won his approval.

  He did not wish to see the boy harmed.

  Because the final beast was also the strongest—

  A Level Three Apprentice demonic beast.

  “That’s enough, O’Neill! You’ve done incredibly well!” Ulric shouted. “No one in clan history has done what you have today!”

  Even Astreith, the future Ice Queen, silently watched him, curious about his choice.

  “Continue…” O’Neill panted slightly. The consecutive battles had drained him.

  Still, the results were excellent.

  “Release the last one.”

  The patriarch hesitated briefly but ultimately nodded.

  “Very well.”

  Perhaps a lesson would keep the boy from becoming overconfident.

  The final beast was released.

  “This is a dangerous species of Level Three Apprentice rank,” the patriarch announced.

  “It resembles the Level Two beast you saw earlier—but do not underestimate it.”

  “Be careful, O’Neill.”

  The beast stepped forward.

  A Level Three Apprentice…

  O’Neill didn’t fully grasp the ranking difference.

  He had seen his sisters crush various beasts before, so it didn’t seem too frightening.

  But others understood.

  Rebus, for example.

  “There’s little difference between Class-C threats and Level One or Two Apprentices,” he muttered.

  “But once they reach Level Three—they gain unique abilities.”

  “This time, Ulric’s brat is doomed.”

  The clan murmured.

  Five warriors had worked together to capture this creature.

  O’Neill narrowed his eyes.

  The beast wasn’t large—smaller than some previous opponents.

  It resembled a tiger, except for a long unicorn-like horn on its forehead and spear-like spikes protruding from its body.

  A brown, unknown gas emitted from its form.

  Its blood-red eyes brimmed with killing intent.

  Unlike the previous beasts, this one was not foolish.

  The moment it appeared, it locked onto O’Neill.

  After slaughtering so many beasts, O’Neill’s aura had changed.

  Instead of charging recklessly, the Level Three creature observed him carefully.

  “…This one might be a little troublesome,” O’Neill murmured.