Hurriedly walking out of his room, Auron bathed in the warm sunlight that illuminated the whole academy as he headed to class, yet as he walked something played at the back of his mind
Howard was dead.
Based on murmurs he overheard as he walked to class he gathered that the official report was "Instructor Howard perished in a forbidden zone while conducting personal research."
Bullshit.
Auron knew it. Something just felt off.
Hell, even the dimwits who barely scraped by in class knew it.
Howard was a veteran instructor, not some clueless dumbass who'd wander into restricted territory and get himself killed. He was a bastard, but he wasn't stupid.
And yet, here they were, with his death being swept under the rug so cleanly that it felt planned, not that he had some burning desire to uncover the truth, hell, the guy had made sure his life in the academy was a living hell, especially in his first year, he didn't know whether to feel remorse or something for the man.
Auron stepped into the classroom, and just like that—all eyes were on him.
A few whispers. A couple of looks that lingered too long. Not outright hostility, but something close. Suspicion.
And then—
"Holy fuck. The lost son has returned."
Auron barely had time to react before an arm slapped across his shoulders. Dante, grinning like the bastard he was, pulled him in close, shaking his head with exaggerated disbelief.
"You actually survived. I was about to start a memorial fund, man. Maybe sell 'Auron's Last Words' scrolls. Big business."
Lyra, leaning against her desk, gave him an unimpressed look. "Tch. I bet he was just holed up in some corner pretending to train."
Auron rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Real original, you two."
Dante let out a mock gasp. "No denial. Interesting."
Before Auron could retort, the mood shifted. The chatter in the room died down, conversation bleeding into silence like a cut vein.
Lena Rune had arrived back in class.
She stepped into the room like she belonged there, like she hadn't forced her way into his life just this morning. Silver hair trailing behind her, crimson eyes sharp yet unreadable.
Auron kept his expression blank.
Not again. I'm not feeding into her weird mind games today.
She didn't spare him a glance, instead moving to the front of the class with an ease that made it seem like she'd been here forever.
"Instructor Howard is dead," she said, no preamble, no soft lead-in. "I will be replacing him."
Silence.
Auron felt the tension in the air tighten, a dozen unspoken questions trapped behind clenched teeth.
Then, finally—
"How did he die?"
The voice came from the back. Doran, one of the bronze-rank beast tamers. Not someone Auron particularly cared for, but even he had the sense to ask the question everyone was thinking.
Lena tilted her head slightly. "The academy has already given an official statement."
Doran's jaw tightened. "Yeah, but how did he really die?"
Auron's gaze flicked toward Lena.
She didn't react. Didn't blink.
Then—a smile.
Not the kind meant to reassure.
The kind that said drop it.
"Class begins now," she said smoothly. "Those still concerned about Instructor Howard's fate are welcome to visit the academy's administration office for further inquiries."
Translation: ask again, and I'll make you regret it.
Doran scowled but said nothing else. The moment passed, and the academy did what it always did—it moved on.
Howard was dead.
A replacement had arrived.
And life continued.
But Auron wasn't done.
Something felt off. Not just about Howard's death, but about himself.
Before he could contemplate on what it was, a system notification popped up.
***
The text appeared in his vision, sharp and unfamiliar.
The fuck?
Auron frowned. This wasn't something he'd activated. The system had never just given him something without an explicit reason before.
And yet, here it was.
He tapped on the prompt mentally, and instantly, his vision shifted.
His mind raced, trying to piece it together, but before he could dwell on it—
***
"And now, onto business."
Lena's voice cut through his thoughts, dragging him back to reality.
She turned to face the class fully, hands clasped behind her back. "With the year coming to a close, it's time to prepare for the End-of-Year Assessments."
Murmurs rippled through the room.
Auron forced himself to focus.
The assessment. Right. That was the real reason the academy didn't have time to grieve.
End-of-Year Assessments were brutal. Fail, and you'd be left behind. Pass, and you'd get stronger, move up, gain resources.
And then there were the other rumors.
The ones that said this year's assessment was going to be different.
More dangerous.
More deadly.
And now, with Howard's death?
Auron had the sinking feeling that he wasn't going to like what came next.
***
Lena's crimson eyes swept across the room, sharp as a blade, giving each student just enough attention to remind them that she wasn't here to babysit them.
She continued, her tone crisp, "this year's End-of-Year Assessment is no longer merely an internal ranking test. The top ten students will represent Glaivemire Academy against the strongest candidates from other institutions. The objective? To secure the rights to a newly discovered secret realm that, as of now, remains largely unexplored."
A few students straightened in their seats. Others paled slightly.
Auron?
He just sighed.
Of course, it had to be something troublesome.
Lena clasped her hands behind her back, her presence dominating the room despite her calm demeanor.
"This isn't a death match, nor is participation mandatory. However, those who decline will forfeit any ranking advancements and the resources that come with them."
Auron swore he could feel Dante shifting restlessly in his seat beside him.
"Hold on." Dante leaned forward, his grin widening. "You're saying the top ten get to enter a freshly discovered secret realm, filled with god knows what kind of treasures, and people can actually opt out?" He clicked his tongue. "Damn, didn't realize we had cowards in this academy."
Lyra scoffed. "Or people who actually enjoy not dying before hitting twenty."
Lena ignored them. "The academy has already arranged the matchups. The top ten from each institution will face off against their counterparts in a structured tournament. There will be no random bloodshed, no unnecessary fatalities—only structured combat. However," she let the word hang, "I will caution against underestimating your opponents. They will not hold back, nor should you."
Silence.
Then—
"Sweet. When do we start?"
Auron turned his head slowly toward Dante, who was practically beaming.
Dante, why the hell were they even friends?
Lena glanced at him. "Preliminaries begin in three weeks. The assessment will determine who qualifies for the top ten spots. Only those who prove themselves capable will advance."
Auron sighed inwardly.
Of course, it wasn't as simple as just walking into the top ten. First, they had to fight tooth and nail just to get there.
Glaivemire Academy never missed a chance to be a pain in the ass.
"And the rewards?" Doran asked, arms folded. He was still bitter from earlier, but he wasn't stupid.
Lena's lips curved slightly. Not quite a smile. More of an acknowledgment.
"Beyond the possible access to the secret realm?" she said smoothly. "Titles. Beast cores, resources. Preferential treatment. Direct recognition from high-ranking figures within the academy. And, of course, the opportunity to claim personal spoils from within the realm."
The tension in the room shifted.
The risk was high, but so were the rewards.
Auron could already see it—some students growing determined, others apprehensive.
And him?
He was just debating how much effort he really wanted to put into this.
Then, before he could spiral further into his internal debate—
He redirected his thoughts on the previous prompt that had appeared in his vision.
He focused on it, and more details unfolded before him.
[You have acquired a compatible beast core. Would you like to allocate its energy toward skill progression?]
His gaze flicked toward his inventory—the Procan Python's beast core, the one he'd been carrying around since he killed it.
So there was another use of beast cores, huh?
Unlike the direct absorption of skills, this should let him funnel the energy of a beast core into a specific skill to accelerate its progress.
Auron exhaled.
This… was fucking big.
If he could collect beast cores, he could essentially fast-track his skill development.
No more waiting. No more relying on sheer repetition.
A grin tugged at his lips.
Now this was a proper exploit.
"—and that concludes today's briefing."
Auron barely snapped out of his thoughts in time to register Lena finishing her speech.
She turned, dismissing the class with a nod.
"The training will begin in earnest tomorrow," she announced. "You have the rest of the day to prepare yourselves."
Students started murmuring again, some excited, some already strategizing.
Auron was about to rise.
"You. Stay behind."
His head tilted slightly.
Lena Rune was looking directly at him.
Ah.
Of course.
Dante shot him a lazy smirk, clapping a hand on his shoulder as he strolled past. "First day back, and you're already getting summoned for an exclusive one-on-one? Truly, a man destined for greatness… or...a scandal."
Auron sighed.
And just like that, the classroom was left empty, leaving him alone with the woman who had somehow inserted herself into his life twice in one day.
She regarded him for a moment before speaking.
"You're not going to ask why I had you stay behind?"
Auron shrugged. "Would it change anything?"
Lena let out a quiet chuckle.
Smart boy.
"No," she admitted. "But I thought I'd at least give you the chance."
She leaned against the desk, crossing her arms.
"You're not a fool, Auron. And you're not as weak as everyone thinks of you, are you?. But I wonder—do you have what it takes to stand at the top?"
Auron met her gaze, his expression unreadable.
He didn't answer immediately.
Because, truthfully, he wasn't sure if she expected the truth or a pretty lie, whatever it was she expected wasn't what Auron was contemplating on as he had been momentarily distracted, looking at her up close, the details hit differently.
The crisp scent of steel and something faintly floral clung to her—sharp, refined and a subtle hint of dangerous. Her instructor's uniform, which seemed to have been tailored to perfection, hugged every curve like a second skin.
Her eyes, sharp and knowing, studied him with a patience that felt almost predatory.
After a long pause, he smirked.
"I guess we'll find out."
Lena's lips curled, slow and deliberate, like she'd caught the flicker of his thoughts and was in no rush to let him off the hook.
"Yes," she murmured, voice low, velvety—dangerous in the way only a woman who knew exactly what she was doing could be.