The academy training grounds were already busy when Kael arrived.
With five days remaining before the official assessment, students had begun treating every available practice session as an opportunity to improve their standing. The atmosphere was noticeably different from the previous weeks. Conversations about the upcoming assessment could be heard everywhere, and even students who usually preferred casual training had started taking their exercises seriously.
The eastern combat field was particularly crowded.
Wooden weapons struck against one another with sharp cracks. Nearby, students practiced elemental spells, filling the air with brief flashes of fire and bursts of cold mist. The metallic smell of mana-charged training equipment lingered around the platforms, mixing with the scent of damp soil and freshly cut grass.
Kael glanced at a group of students struggling to maintain their formation.
"Looks like everyone suddenly remembered they have weaknesses," Elias remarked, adjusting the strap of his quiver.
Darius rolled his shoulders beside him. "Some of them probably just realized the assessment is closer than they thought."
"That’s one way to motivate people," Kael replied. "Nothing encourages personal growth quite like the possibility of public embarrassment."
Elias chuckled.
Mira, standing behind them, covered her mouth with one hand. "You make it sound terrible."
"Is it not?"
"Well..." She hesitated before smiling. "I suppose it depends on how well we perform."
"Then let’s make sure we perform well enough that nobody remembers us for the wrong reasons."
Kael turned toward their designated training area.
Their practice today would focus on adapting to unfamiliar formations. Since the second stage of the assessment involved mixed teams, relying exclusively on their usual formation would be a mistake.
Darius needed to become comfortable holding a position without depending on Kael’s instructions. Elias had to improve his ability to reposition while maintaining accurate shots. Mira needed to create distance when opponents slipped past the frontline.
And Kael himself needed to become better at making decisions without having complete information.
They had already discussed these weaknesses.
Now they needed to work on them.
"Before we start, where’s Quinn?" Kael asked.
Elias looked around.
"Wasn’t it following you?"
"It was."
"Then perhaps it got distracted."
Kael sighed.
That was becoming increasingly common.
He glanced toward the nearby trees and noticed a familiar white shape moving along one of the branches.
"Found it."
Quinn climbed down, its blue markings glowing faintly. It landed on Kael’s shoulder and raised two legs.
"Qiu!"
"Good morning to you too. Care to explain where you’ve been?"
"Qiu!"
"That’s not an explanation."
The spider tilted its head.
Kael narrowed his eyes.
Something about his familiar had been bothering him lately.
It occasionally wandered away during breaks, disappearing for several minutes before returning. At first, he assumed it was simply exploring its surroundings. However, whenever it came back, it seemed unusually eager to draw his attention toward something.
Sometimes it would lead him toward students arguing near the training grounds. Other times, it would point toward instructors discussing academy matters or even students practicing unusual techniques.
There was even one time it led him to two senior students dating behind a school building.
The information was often completely unrelated to anything Kael was doing.
’Now that I think about it, this has happened quite a few times.’
He watched Quinn raise another leg, seemingly expecting praise.
’It wanders off, comes back, and somehow brings news about random things.’
Kael stared at it.
’Did my familiar develop a strange habit of gossiping?’
"Qiu!"
"Don’t look so proud. You’re starting to resemble someone who spends their afternoons collecting rumors."
Quinn tilted its head again.
Elias leaned closer, looking amused. "What did it do this time?"
"Nothing important. I think it’s developing an interest in other people’s business."
"Isn’t that normal for familiars?"
"Maybe. But most familiars don’t return looking like they’ve just discovered a scandal."
Quinn gave a pleased little chirp.
Kael shook his head.
"Fine. Since you’re apparently our unofficial information network, try not to get yourself involved in anything dangerous."
Quinn raised both front legs.
"Qiu!"
"That wasn’t permission to investigate everything you see."
...
The group began training shortly afterward.
Darius took the frontline while Kael deliberately limited his involvement. Instead of directing every movement, he allowed the others to make their own decisions.
Elias moved between several designated positions, firing at wooden targets while avoiding simulated attacks from training constructs.
Each arrow struck with a dull thud against the reinforced targets. When Elias moved too quickly, his shots drifted away from their intended marks, occasionally scraping against the wooden frames.
Mira practiced retreating behind obstacles and maintaining enough distance to cast healing magic without exposing herself.
Darius, meanwhile, faced two training constructs that advanced toward him from different directions. Their wooden weapons struck his greatsword with enough force to send vibrations through his arms.
"Left!" Elias called.
Darius turned just in time to block the second construct.
The impact forced him backward.
"Watch your footing!" Kael reminded him.
"I know!"
Darius adjusted his stance, digging his boots into the dirt.
Quinn supported the exercises by placing silk strands between wooden posts. The strands were nearly invisible against the background, forcing Darius and Elias to pay attention to their surroundings.
Their first attempt was messy.
Darius nearly stepped into one of the silk lines, Elias lost his balance while repositioning, and Mira hesitated when a training construct approached from an unexpected angle.
"Again," Kael said, folding his arms.
Darius wiped his forehead. "You could at least pretend we’re doing well."
"I could. But then we’d both be lying."
Elias laughed while retrieving his arrows.
Mira gave Kael a small, helpless smile. "We’ll do better next time."
"I know. That’s why we’re repeating it."
They tried again.
This time, Darius noticed the silk line before stepping into it. Elias adjusted his position earlier, allowing him to maintain a clear shooting angle. Mira retreated behind a wooden barrier and successfully completed her healing exercise without being interrupted.
It wasn’t perfect, but the improvement was noticeable.
Kael nodded.
"That’s better."
Darius rested his greatsword against his shoulder. "Finally, some recognition."
"Don’t get used to it."
"You’re terrible at giving compliments."
"I prefer to keep them rare. Otherwise, people start expecting them."
...
While Team 37 continued their exercises, the infirmary courtyard remained considerably quieter.
The sounds of the training grounds reached it only faintly, carried across the academy’s stone buildings. Occasionally, the distant crack of a weapon or the burst of a spell disturbed the silence, but the courtyard itself was mostly empty.
Victor Hale sat alone on one of the stone benches.
His recovery had progressed enough for him to leave the infirmary. The healers had cleared him for light activity, although they had advised him against returning to strenuous training immediately.
He had listened.
Not because he particularly trusted their judgment, but because his body had made it clear that ignoring their instructions would be foolish.
He rested his hands on his knees.
They looked almost normal now.
The cuts had healed, and most of the bruising had faded. A few injuries still caused discomfort when he moved, but compared to the condition he had been in when the instructors found him, he was fortunate.
That was what everyone kept telling him.
At least you survived.
You should be grateful.
Things could have been worse.
Victor understood that they meant well.
He also hated hearing it.
His gaze settled on the empty space beside him.
It was strange.
For weeks, he had grown accustomed to having people around him. His teammates had followed him during training, accompanied him during meals, and listened whenever he made decisions.
Some had even laughed at his jokes.
He remembered how confidently he had walked into the Wilderness Examination.
He had been convinced that his team’s performance would reflect his standing among the first-year students. Their ranking mattered to him. Their victories mattered. Even the smallest improvements were opportunities to prove that he belonged among the academy’s better students.
He had liked being recognized.
He liked the way other students stepped aside when he approached, the respect that came with a good ranking, and the satisfaction of knowing that his decisions carried weight.
Whenever someone challenged his authority, he took it personally.
Especially Kael Grayford.
Victor had considered Kael an easy target, someone whose weakness made him an obvious candidate for ridicule. Their encounters had reinforced his belief that strength determined a person’s worth.
He had rarely questioned that belief.
Until the examination.
His fingers slowly curled against his knees.
He remembered the chaos.
The screaming, the darkness between the trees, the creatures emerging from places that should have been safe. He remembered trying to organize his teammates while their formation collapsed.
He had shouted orders.
He had fought.
He had tried to keep everyone together.
But the situation had deteriorated faster than he could respond. One teammate had fallen while trying to reach the others. Another had been dragged away before Victor could turn back.
He still remembered the sounds they had made.
The fear in their voices.
The desperate way they had called for him.
He had been their leader.
They had trusted him to make the right decisions.
And he had survived while they hadn’t.
Victor lowered his head.
What good was my ranking?
The question came unexpectedly.
He had spent so much time measuring himself against other students. He knew who stood above him, who was falling behind, and which achievements could improve his reputation.
He had treated those rankings as proof of his ability.
Yet when the situation became genuinely dangerous, none of that had helped him.
His confidence hadn’t stopped the undead.
His status hadn’t protected his teammates.
And the authority he had been so eager to display had meant very little when he couldn’t even guarantee their survival.
For the first time, Victor understood the difference between looking capable and actually being capable.
The realization was humiliating.
He clenched his fists.
I thought I was strong.
His gaze shifted toward the distant training grounds.
Students were still practicing. Their voices occasionally carried through the courtyard, followed by the familiar sounds of weapons clashing and spells activating.
He remembered hearing that some students had managed to protect others during the outbreak.
Among them was Kael Grayford.
A group of students passed along the courtyard path, their conversation catching his attention.
"...I heard Grayford helped rescue several students during the outbreak."
"Kael Grayford? The same one who used to have the lowest combat evaluation?"
"That’s what I heard. Apparently, he was fighting undead while helping people escape."
Victor’s expression tightened.
He recognized the name immediately.
Kael Grayford.
The boy he had once considered an easy target had somehow managed to survive the same disaster. Worse, Kael had helped rescue students while Victor’s own team had fallen apart.
He looked down at his hands again.
So he managed to do it.
The thought wasn’t entirely resentment.
It was something less comfortable.
Victor had always measured himself against people he considered rivals. He had believed that strength, status, and confidence were enough to put him above others.
But Kael’s actions during the outbreak had demonstrated something Victor had failed to understand.
Strength wasn’t simply about defeating someone in a duel or earning a higher evaluation.
Sometimes, it meant being able to make decisions when everything was falling apart.
Sometimes, it meant protecting people who couldn’t protect themselves.
And sometimes, it meant accepting that someone else’s survival mattered more than your own reputation.
Victor leaned back against the bench.
He wanted to dismiss those thoughts.
He wanted to tell himself that Kael had simply been fortunate, that the circumstances had favored him, or that the instructors would eventually recognize Victor’s own abilities.
But none of those excuses changed what had happened.
He had been given responsibility.
He had failed to fulfill it.
A healer passing through the courtyard slowed when she noticed him.
"You’re supposed to be resting, Mr. Hale," she reminded him, adjusting the medical supplies in her arms.
"I’m only sitting here."
"Then keep doing that. Your recovery isn’t complete."
Victor gave a faint nod.
"I understand."
The healer continued toward the infirmary.
He remained where he was.
He wasn’t ready to return to the training grounds.
He wasn’t even sure he wanted to see the other students. But he knew he couldn’t remain like this forever.
His teammates were gone. He couldn’t change that. And he couldn’t pretend that his old ambitions still meant the same thing.
Victor looked down at his hands once more.
I don’t want to be helpless like that again.
It wasn’t a grand declaration.
It didn’t make his grief disappear, nor did it suddenly give him a clear direction.
But it was the first thought he had formed since the incident that wasn’t about what he had lost.
He would recover.
Then he would return to training. Not to reclaim his ranking or prove that he was better than Kael Grayford. At least, that was what he wanted to believe.
For now, he simply remained seated, listening to the distant sounds of the academy.
...
By the time Kael finished his second training session, the afternoon sunlight had shifted across the grounds.
The air had grown warmer, and the wooden equipment carried the faint scent of sweat and polished timber. Several students were already leaving, while others continued practicing despite the approaching end of the scheduled session.
Kael wiped his forehead with a towel.
Darius stretched his arms, his greatsword resting against a nearby post.
"That was better than yesterday," he remarked.
"Your positioning improved," Kael replied. "You still rely too much on blocking attacks directly, though."
Darius frowned. "I can’t exactly dodge everything."
"You don’t have to. Just stop treating every attack like a personal challenge."
Elias laughed while collecting his arrows. "That’s actually pretty accurate."
Darius gave him a sideways look. "You’re not helping."
Mira finished packing her medical supplies.
"I think we all improved today," she said, offering the others a small smile.
"That’s the idea," Kael replied.
He glanced toward the infirmary courtyard while adjusting the strap of his training bag.
Victor was still sitting there.
Kael recognized him immediately.
’Victor, huh.’
He hadn’t heard anything about him since the rescue. Considering what had happened to Victor’s team, that wasn’t particularly surprising.
Kael watched him for a moment before looking away.
’Looks like he survived.’
Their relationship had never been particularly pleasant. Victor had repeatedly antagonized him, and there was no reason to assume that a few weeks in the same academy had suddenly changed that.
Besides, approaching someone he barely got along with just because they had suffered a tragedy seemed like an awkward idea.
’We weren’t exactly on friendly terms. He probably has enough to deal with without me suddenly showing up to offer condolences.’
Kael adjusted the strap of his bag.
There was nothing he needed to say.
He turned back toward his teammates.
"Let’s call it a day," he said. "We’ve made enough progress for today."
Darius stretched his arms. "Already?"
"Unless you’d like to continue until your legs stop responding."
"I’ll pass."
Elias slung his quiver over his shoulder. "That’s the spirit. We should save some energy for tomorrow."
Mira nodded, gathering her belongings.
Kael left the training grounds with his teammates.
Victor remained in the courtyard, unaware that Kael had even noticed him.
For now, that was probably for the best.
...
They had almost reached the main academy pathway when Quinn suddenly climbed down from Kael’s shoulder.
It scurried toward a nearby pillar, disappearing around its base.
Kael stopped.
"Not again."
Elias tilted his head. "What?"
"Nothing. Our resident investigator has apparently found another case."
Darius glanced at the pillar. "You let it wander around too much."
"Believe me, I’ve considered installing a leash."
"Qiu!"
Quinn emerged from behind the pillar and hurried back toward them.
It climbed onto Kael’s arm and tapped his sleeve several times.
"Qiu! Qiu!"
Kael looked down at it.
"Slow down. You’re making this sound like a dramatic revelation."
Quinn pointed toward the northern training grounds, then raised two legs and made a series of small movements.
Kael narrowed his eyes.
"Something about the mechanisms?"
"Qiu!"
"One of the instructors was testing them?"
Quinn chirped again.
Elias leaned closer. "What is it telling you?"
Kael examined the spider’s movements.
Quinn’s scouting ability wasn’t limited to wandering around and looking at things.
It actually learned new skills.
It could now release extremely fine silk threads across nearby surfaces. These strands were sensitive to vibrations, allowing it to detect movement even when its targets were outside its direct line of sight.
The ability was particularly useful in places with numerous structures, corridors, and narrow passages.
Quinn could leave small silk connections behind while exploring, then follow the vibrations traveling through them. It could also observe its surroundings directly and return when it found something that caught its attention.
It wasn’t reading minds or magically understanding every conversation it encountered.
Most of the time, it simply noticed things and tried to communicate them through gestures.
The problem was that its interests were becoming increasingly unpredictable.
"Apparently, the northern training ground’s mechanisms have been undergoing additional adjustments," Kael explained. "Some of the instructors were testing how the concealed passages respond to movement."
Darius frowned. "Didn’t Professor Vista already explain that?"
"Yes. But apparently, they’re still making changes."
Mira looked toward the northern side of the academy. "Could that affect our assessment?"
"Possibly. It might also be nothing more than routine maintenance."
Kael looked down at Quinn.
"Anything else?"
Quinn raised one leg.
Then another.
Kael waited.
The spider tilted its head before giving a cheerful chirp.
"That’s it?"
"Qiu!"
"Wonderful. A report with no conclusion."
Elias laughed.
Kael sighed and gently tapped Quinn’s head.
"You’re becoming a surprisingly committed collector of information. Just remember that not every interesting thing you find requires our attention."
Quinn chirped proudly.
’Seriously. I might need to start teaching this thing the difference between gathering information and getting involved in other people’s business.’
He glanced toward the northern training grounds.
The academy was still making adjustments to the assessment environment. That wasn’t unexpected, but the timing was worth remembering.
He would ask Professor Vista about it during the next briefing. For now, he had other things to worry about.
"Let’s head back," Kael said.
Darius nodded while Elias walked ahead with Mira.
Quinn climbed back onto Kael’s shoulder, settling comfortably beside his neck.
Kael glanced at it.
"By the way, if you’re going to keep collecting rumors, at least make sure they’re useful."
"Qiu?"
"Don’t give me that look. I’m not promoting you to head of intelligence."
Quinn chirped.
Kael shook his head.
’At this rate, the familiar might end up knowing more about the academy’s daily gossip than the people actually studying here.’
He continued toward the dormitories.
Five days remained before the assessment.
Their preparation was progressing, but there was still plenty to improve.
And beyond the upcoming assessment, the academy had yet to resolve everything left behind by the wilderness incident.
Victor’s teammates were gone.
Valthazar and Lorelei remained at large.
The identity of the ritual caster was still unknown.
Kael exhaled quietly.
One problem at a time.
Tomorrow would bring another day of preparation.
And hopefully, fewer unexpected reports from his increasingly nosy familiar.