After listening to and enjoying the show for a while, Martin left the building and headed to his home, located on the third floor of a series of old, dilapidated apartments. They charged him 5 sulphurs daily for the room, which included a bed and a small cabinet for personal belongings, with a shared bathroom he could use freely.

-Everything's ready. It's time to begin.-

Martin sat cross-legged on the old bed. The mattress was stained and creaked with every movement.

"Inhale…"

"Exhale…"

"Inhale…"

"Exhale…"

Slowly, Martin's consciousness began to sink into the depths of himself. Like a dream, reality intertwined with fantasy, and strange occurrences happened before Martin's eyes as he found himself in a spiritual form, like a ghost.

"Come on, Martin, keep going," the young man's thoughts were transmitted aloud in this strange world. It was uncertain whether this place represented the dream world, the spiritual realm, the subconscious, or something similar.

Martin's soul calmly explored the corners of this realm. He had ventured into it multiple times, getting used to the strange sensation. As he entered and wandered through this world, his ether reserves gradually depleted until they were empty, causing a tingling sensation throughout his body as if something inside him was exhausted.

By repeating this process, his etheric soul, which he had formed some time ago, grew stronger, and his senses sharpened. He could use his ability more efficiently and increase the time he spent in meditation. On the other hand, his body was influenced by the strengthening of his etheric soul, gaining greater brute strength.

Without a master or someone to guide him, Martin became self-taught and decided to train on his own based on what he knew from anime, manga, and novels. Incredibly, meditation and self-exploration were very effective for training, so he decided to exercise in the mornings, meditate at night, and keep his ability active most of the time.

"I’m doing well, it seems," a smile formed on Martin's face as he reached a strange area covered in fog and buildings.

This place was identical to the hometown of his previous life, except there were no humans here. Martin scanned the surroundings and saw the pizzeria, the sushi place, the library, the government building, the bank, the school, and other buildings he knew perfectly well. They were located exactly where Martin remembered them, giving the sensation that he had returned to his previous world, if not for the strange purple fog covering the surroundings.

"First time coming here… This brings back old memories. I wonder if…"

Martin looked in a specific direction and set off without hesitation, feeling that the end of his journey was near as signs of fatigue were beginning to appear.

"Hurry up, Martin."

Feeling urgency due to fatigue, the young man started running and taking turns through the streets. He knew exactly which curve to take to get there as quickly as possible.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah…"

"Finally, I made it."

"It’s been years."

In front of Martin was a metal fence with spikes. Behind it, the garden was small, with only an orange tree, some cacti, and other plants. A white door with a sign of a chubby dog welcomed him. The house had two floors, with the windows on both floors closed and the curtains drawn, making it impossible to see inside.

"It’s still intact, just as I remember," a happy smile formed on the young man’s face. He had lived almost his entire life in this place.

"Sorry for not coming… I was… busy… bu-bu-busy…," Martin’s voice began to crack, and tears fell from his eyes.

"I’ve tried everything…"

"I’m… doing my best…"

"I survive as I can…"

"So-sorry for taking so long…"

"I miss you all so much…"

Martin couldn’t hold back any longer, and a heart-wrenching cry could be heard. In front of the metal fence, a young man with dark hair and a pale appearance clung tightly to the bars.

For the last month, he had focused on surviving at all costs, suppressing all unnecessary thoughts to the maximum. He fought with strangers, getting badly injured, sold trinkets on the streets, fled from the police, defended himself from criminals, always showing a serious face and a tough demeanor. However, returning to his hometown and the house where he grew up made everything surface at once, breaking the shell he had created.

Time flew by, and the sobbing stopped. A man stood, staring intently at the door of his home. He tried to open the metal gate, but it was impossible. He then climbed on top of it, but some kind of invisible wall prevented him from going any further.

"Tchh… LET ME PASSSSS!"

"IT’S MY HOUSEEEEE!"

Martin screamed at the sky in anger, hoping for a response, but he knew that no one would come to his call. The entity or whatever had sent him to this world had never appeared, not even when it let him die.

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"Time’s running out," Martin said with resignation, a look of disappointment on his face.

The signs of fatigue became more evident. The ghostly form began to flicker, and his concentration wavered. Each time his energy ran out, Martin in his soul form would vanish and return to reality. The problem was that he had no control over these travels because when he entered that dreamlike world, he would appear in a different place and visit random sites. Rarely did the scenarios repeat.

"I’ll come back."

"Huh?"

"What’s that?"

Just as Martin was about to disappear, he noticed a hole in the window, as if a rock had smashed through that part. Purple fog was seeping through, but if you looked closely, the fog was coming out of the window, not going in.

"The fog?"

"Ah! ah! ah! ah!"

With his body covered in sweat and a tingling sensation throughout his body, Martin returned to reality, panting heavily. The trips to his inner world were usually very exhausting, both mentally and physically, and the time between both realities was not the same. Martin felt like he had been wandering around for a while, but it was already 5 AM, as indicated by the clock on the wall. Seven hours had passed in the blink of an eye.

"Alright, one two three testing, hello world," Martin checked that his thoughts were not being spoken out loud.

"That was too strange; the questions just keep piling up."

"I need to get that fake ID as soon as possible and understand the magic of this world."

"Ahh… Even in this world, education is expensive," a sigh of regret escaped Martin’s mouth as he settled onto the bed, ready to sleep.

One important thing he learned about this world was that all forms of life possessed innate ether, and anyone had the possibility of forming an etheric soul and awakening powers. Therefore, the magic university was created as a separate education system from the traditional one, with the goal of guiding these people and making their talents flourish, then recruiting them as important assets to the nation.

Mages, swordsmen, priests, knights, adventurers, mercenaries, nobles, commoners—thousands of individuals had passed through the magic university over time, some entering through talent and others through effort. The important thing was to develop future generations, regardless of status. However, as time passed, the noble idea of the first king became corrupted and turned into a multimillion-dollar business. Nowadays, talented commoners were recruited only to give the appearance of equality.

Two days later, 10 PM, Combat Arena.

-Ladies and gentlemen!-

-Boys and girls!-

-Humans and beasts!-

-Elves and dwarves!-

-Young and old!-

-I am pleased to announce the final of the celestial combat!-

-After a hectic and exciting month!-

-The end is near…-

-Who will rise as the new champion?-

-Who will hold the new celestial title?-

-We will see shortly, don’t miss it!-

Clap Clap Clap.

A round of applause filled the establishment, which was packed like public transport during rush hour. No more individuals could fit. The celestial combat was an important event in the slums. Among the few entertainments available to the less fortunate, clandestine fights were the favorite of most.

The fighting event lasted a month and was held every seven months after the day of sunrise or sunset as a kind of welcome to the new cycle. Martin signed up by chance and began advancing through the rounds without difficulty. Most of his opponents were drunks and ordinary people with no training. His physique and senses enhanced by the etheric soul gave him a huge advantage.

But as the rounds progressed, the difficulty suddenly increased, and he began facing people with abilities similar to his own, finding himself in tight spots multiple times but always winning by a hair. Without realizing it, he was among the top 64, then the top 32, 16, 8, 4, and finally one step away from the title.

Although he raised suspicions due to his meteoric rise, it wasn’t unusual in a place like the capital, where thousands of people came and went every day. He was simply categorized as a shooting star passing by.

-Come on, Emissary!-

-The Goddess is with you!-

-May the Goddess bless you!-

-Beat that bastard!-

-HAHAHA THE FOREIGNER IS DONE FOR!-

-HE JUST GOT LUCKY!-

-BEAT THAT COWARD!-

A noisy group of people supporting the Divine Emissary began mocking Martin vehemently, emphasizing his lack of skill and his cowardice in fighting. The aftermath of his fight with Big Bull was still present, and a large part of the audience was against him.

-SHUT UP, YOU BASTARDS!-

-LEARN TO LOSE!-

-THE FOREIGNER WILL DESTROY HIM!-

-HAHAHA STILL HURTING!-

Among the crowded audience surrounding the combat arena, there was a noticeable segregation between humans, elves, beastmen, and dwarves. The majority group were humans, and among them, there was a lot of racism and discrimination against the other races, only accepting elves because they were similar to them.

On the other hand, dwarves and beastmen were at the lowest rung of society and despised by everyone due to their noticeable physical differences and distinctive traits. Therefore, they felt somewhat identified with "The Foreigner" and decided to make him their fighter.

The situation didn’t surprise Martin at all. In his previous life, people behaved the same way with foreigners. Still, he was sure that these races would fare much better in his world. Beast girls with cat ears and paws, and elves with elongated ears and beautiful appearances would become instant celebrities.

Dwarves, on the other hand, didn’t have good looks but possessed a privileged mind and innate talent for craftsmanship. Mechanics, engineers, architects, and masons would feel threatened by these small men.

-I hope that bastard wins, or I'll kill him.-

Above the combat arena were VIP boxes on the second floor, allowing an unobstructed view of the entire combat arena and its surroundings. Among the VIPs was a dark-skinned man proudly displaying his pink mohawk, wearing a sleeveless shirt that exposed his muscular arms.

-Did you really bet on him? I thought you hated him.-

-Of course I hate him, but he’s skilled and slippery, that bastard. He must have a good combat ability.-

-Mmm… come to think of it, it’s like he predicts the opponent's actions. You’re probably right.-

-Must be. I can't explain that absurd agility otherwise.-

-Anyway, the Divine Emissary is the clear favorite. He’s one tough son of a bitch.-

-I know, but nothing ventured, nothing gained. Besides, if he dares to lose, I’ll have to pay him a visit with my boys.-

-I knew it. You’re still salty about losing that way… HAHAHAHA!-

-Son of a bitch!- Big Bull got angry and threw a punch at his companion.

PAM.

The punch was stopped by the palm of the man with a horrible scar on his face.

-It was a joke!- the man held back his laughter and calmed Big Bull down.

-Crazy Dog, don’t get funny with me- said the dark-skinned man, angered as he recalled his humiliating defeat.

-Though it was funny how you were defeated, it doesn’t compare to my loss. The son of a bitch shot lightning at me and nearly turned me into ashes. Just remembering it terrifies me.-

Crazy Dog had fought before Big Bull, but the fight lasted only a few seconds, and he had to be treated for severe injuries. He didn’t even have time to attack.

-My gut tells me the bastard will come out on top somehow. Besides, the odds are 1.2 to 5.-

-No way! That’s like throwing money away.-

-It doesn’t matter. If I lose, I’ll pay him a visit, and if I win, the grudges will be forgiven.-

-How much did you bet, Big Bull?- the man with the scar asked incredulously.

-5 cuprums.-

-PFFFF YOU’RE CRAZY, SON OF A BITCH!- Crazy Dog spat out the beer he was drinking.

-Nothing ventured, nothing gained- said Big Bull seriously, staring intently at the combat arena.