Chapter 26: The First Outing (Part 1)
The sun filtered through the high-arched windows of the academy, painting golden streaks across the polished marble. Students crowded the hallways, murmuring excitedly about the outing announced for the next day. Lyrian moved silently among them, his hood pulled low to shadow his face. His body still ached, exhaustion clinging to him like a second skin, but he pushed it aside.
He slipped into the classroom quietly, choosing a seat at the far back where the shadows were thickest. His gaze drifted to familiar faces—Elyreina with her blonde hair catching the light, and Reynard, arms crossed with a bored expression. Seraphina sat near the front, silver hair gleaming and posture flawless, while Zarek leaned back with a smirk, radiating barely-contained arrogance. None of them seemed to notice him, too focused on the instructor, who stood with arms crossed at the front.
The instructor, a tall woman with eyes sharp enough to cut stone, surveyed the class with a stern expression. Her voice rang out, crisp and commanding.
"Since most of you think you're ready for tomorrow's outing, let's see how much you really know. Answer correctly, and you might survive. Stay silent, and I'll assume you've already accepted your fate."
The room fell silent, tension thick in the air. The instructor's eyes glinted as she posed her first question.
"A Direwolf's berserk state—what triggers it, and how do you counter it effectively?"
Zarek's hand shot up first, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"Blood scent and the full moon trigger it. Best countered by attacking the hind legs to cripple its mobility," he declared, voice confident.
The instructor's gaze was unimpressed but she gave a curt nod.
"Acceptable."
Lyrian leaned back, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded but alert. Inwardly, he answered with more detail, recalling past lessons and battles, but kept his silence.
The next question came swiftly.
"Describe the primary difference between a King-Tier Flame Basilisk and its Abyssal variant."
Seraphina's voice was cool, almost detached.
"The Abyssal variant lacks the flame breath but compensates with shadow affinity, capable of rendering itself invisible in darkness," she answered smoothly.
The instructor's eyes flickered approvingly. "Correct."
Zarek's smirk faltered for a fraction of a second, annoyance flaring in his eyes. Lyrian caught it and almost chuckled.
The questions continued, growing progressively harder. The instructor paused briefly before speaking again.
"Explain why King-Tier beasts develop mana cores, unlike lower tiers."
For a moment, no one moved. Then, Elyreina's voice rang out, hesitant but clear.
"To accumulate and refine mana efficiently for advanced abilities," she said, fingers twisting slightly in her lap. "The core acts as a reservoir, ensuring a stable flow during combat."
The instructor's stern expression softened, if only slightly.
"Correct."
Elyreina released a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, her blonde hair brushing her cheek as she relaxed a fraction. Reynard shot her a sideways smirk, though he said nothing.
The instructor's next question hung in the air like a blade.
"Abyssal Manticores—how do you escape their petrifying gaze?"
Most students hesitated, uncertain. Then a smooth, almost lazy voice broke the silence.
"Blind the secondary eye on its chest. The main eyes are decoys."
Heads turned sharply. The newcomer leaned against the wall at the far side, amber eyes half-lidded and indifferent. His dark auburn hair fell over one eye, and a faint smirk played at the corner of his lips.
Whispers rippled through the room. A transfer student? No one had heard anything.
The instructor's eyes narrowed but she inclined her head.
"Correct."
Zarek scoffed, eyes rolling. "Tch. Lucky guess," he muttered.
Lyrian's gaze lingered on the newcomer briefly. Something felt…off. His stance was too relaxed, his eyes too sharp. But Lyrian dismissed it for now, focusing instead on the lesson.
At one point, as Seraphina delivered a precise answer about the territorial nature of Direwolves, Elyreina shifted. Her eyes flickered back, a faint frown marring her features as if sensing something familiar. Her gaze swept over the back of the room—where Lyrian sat, cloaked in shadows—but moved on, unfocused.
Reynard, too, paused mid-answer, eyes narrowing briefly at the dark corner. But with no one seeming out of place, he dismissed it, returning his attention to the instructor.
Satisfied with the responses, the instructor crossed her arms, her gaze sweeping the room.
"Tomorrow, you'll be leaving the academy grounds to hunt lower-tier beasts," she declared. "This isn't just a test of combat skills but of teamwork. To that end, you'll be forming teams of five."
Murmurs broke out immediately. Elyreina glanced at Reynard, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. Zarek smirked confidently, already eyeing strong candidates, while Seraphina's expression remained as icy as ever.
Lyrian's eyes narrowed slightly. Teams of five? His gaze flickered briefly to Elyreina, then to the others. His fingers tapped idly against his armrest.
The instructor's voice cut through the murmurs.
"Choose wisely. Strength alone won't keep you alive. Dismissed."
As students began rising, discussions breaking out immediately, Lyrian lingered in his seat, eyes half-closed,
He stared at his hand, a faint, ominous glow flickered at his fingertips—not merely fire, but darkflame, shadows woven with ember-like glimmers that seemed to consume light itself. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, yet its presence was undeniable. He clenched his fist, suppressing the surge, and let out a slow breath. Whatever this power was, it felt both exhilarating and foreboding, a reminder of the warning the Grandmaster hadn't voiced but was clear enough in his gaze.
He released a breath, fatigue seeping back into his limbs. Tomorrow's outing would be… interesting.