Return Of The SSS-Class Hunter-Chapter 133: Curses

Derek's teammates stood close together, forming a tight circle at the center of the arena.

They could feel it. The pressure.

Seven teams. Dozens of hostile gazes.

Henry swallowed hard, his fingers twitching near his weapon. "This… this isn't looking good."

Art let out a dry, humorless laugh. "Yeah. They're all staring at us like prey." He clenched his jaw. "Seven teams at once… there's no way we can handle that. No matter how strong Derek is."

Emma didn't speak. She already knew.

Her fists were clenched so tightly that her nails dug into her palms. She stared at the surrounding teams — fourth-year students, third-year students, and veterans of countless trials.

This was a battle royale. And they were the obvious target. No matter how monstrous Derek was… no single person could protect an entire team against everyone at once.

This was the end. The air trembled.

Amidst the growing tension....

Daniel's voice rang out, cutting through the heavy air like a blade.

"Begin."

The instant the word left his mouth, movement exploded across the arena. Teams surged forward. Spells ignited. Weapons were drawn. A storm of attacks was about to crash down on Derek's team.

But what happened next…

No one had expected.

Thud!

Thud!

Thud!

Thud!

Four clean, precise strikes. Henry's vision went dark. Art collapsed mid-breath.

Emma felt a sharp impact at the back of her neck, and the world flipped upside down. Eva as well.

In less than a heartbeat, all four members of Derek's team dropped to the ground, unconscious.

The arena froze.

Derek straightened slowly and turned his head toward the announcer.

"They are knocked out," he said calmly. "Please transport them outside."

Daniel stared at him. His mouth opened.

And closed. But no word came out. For a moment, the announcer genuinely didn't know what to say.

Then, swallowing hard, he raised his hand.

Spatial light enveloped Henry, Art, Emma, and the others. In the next instant, they vanished from the arena.

Murmurs started to spread.

"What the hell, man! Did he just knock out his own team members?"

"Yup. That's what happened. That boy sure is odd."

"Is he insane?!"

"No. He's serious. Don't you see what he is trying to do? He made sure his teammates stayed safe. And now he intends to fight alone."

At those words, realization hit like a hammer.

Derek had removed them. For their safety.

Which meant only one thing. He intended to fight alone against everyone.

And then.... In the arena...

Chaos.

Forty participants remained. Thirty fourth-years. Nine third-years. And one first year.

Cecilia Glaciblade.

Almost all of them reacted at once.

Spells erupted.

Weapons flew.

They rushed him from every direction, faces grim. They understood what Derek was trying to do.

If he eliminated three teams by himself… his team would advance. And none of them were willing to let that happen.

But...

They had already made a fatal mistake.

Because in front of a lion… What the sheep wanted had never mattered.

Metal rang. Two daggers burst from Derek's storage ring, spinning forward like silver comets, whistling through the air.

A sword followed as well. His sword. Derek caught it effortlessly.

And then...

Lightning seemed to crack beneath his feet.

He blurred.

An ice sphere roared past where he had stood a moment earlier.

A mage girl inhaled sharply, gathering internal energy for a second spell...

But...

CLANG!

A metallic blow slammed into her back. Blood sprayed from her lips as she collapsed unconscious.

Another participant raised his hands, fireballs forming...

Derek appeared beside him. The hilt of the sword slammed into his chest.

BOOM!

The boy flew backward, crashing into the ground.

The arena erupted.

"Damn! Why is he so fucking fast?!"

"I can't even see him!"

To the instructors, Derek was a blur of lightning and steel.

To the students…

He was a phantom.

A streak of motion that appeared, struck, and vanished before their eyes could even register him.

Five minutes passed. All members of one team were knocked out....

Disqualified.

Another five minutes...

A second team was completely wiped out.

Bodies littered the arena floor.

Moans echoed. Fear replaced arrogance.

And Derek?

He stood in the center of it all, sword humming softly, breath steady.

The slaughter wasn't finished. But the outcome was already decided. The audience was losing control in excitement.

The cheers of the first-year students were the loudest. They had always looked down on cultivators. They had mocked them. Dismissed.

But now?

A first-year cultivator wasn't just participating in the Half-Yearly Test. He was dominating it.

Who would abandon such pride?

And as Derek took another step forward, his lightning pace technique was in full action.

It didn't take long before yet another team was disqualified.

"He did it. He really did it. He ensured his team advanced to the next trial," one instructor muttered in disbelief. "Damn… he's a monster wearing a boy's skin."

Yami heard the comment clearly. His only response was a quiet chuckle. After all, he was the one who had unleashed the storm — he was the one who had told Derek to go all out.

If his plan succeeded and the Headmistress accepted Derek as her disciple, then Derek's future would be free of obstacles, even if he were merely a cultivator.

As for Frederick's death? That problem would disappear as well. With the Headmistress as Derek's guardian, no one would even think of pursuing it. With her standing behind him, no one from the Nelson family or any other power would dare lay a hand on him.

Twenty participants were already out. Derek alone had taken care of half of the remaining contestants.

The House Master of Sky Dragon, Joseph Fleming, watched the scene with a complicated expression. For the first time, a bold thought crossed his mind — whether Derek should be promoted directly to the fourth year instead of wasting time progressing normally.

But it wasn't just the students, the Headmistress, or the House Masters who were watching.

Someone else was observing as well. He sat quietly in a corner of the arena, his presence subtle enough to escape most attention. At a glance, he looked like an instructor, but he wasn't wearing the academy's standard uniform.

His eyes gleamed faintly as they followed Derek's movements. "…He's loaded with curses," the man whispered softly.