Damon glanced at the tally of contribution points. Even someone at Seventh Class would have to bleed on the front lines for a decade to earn that much. Or slay a Seventh Class enemy. In truth, you would need to kill seven of them.
In other words, the higher ups were ordering him to go without ever saying the words. This was a message to everyone. Not even a prodigy like Damon Grey was exempt.
Everything here was political. Every sentence carried a second meaning.
Kadelas scoffed. The sound was soft, but Sylvia's sharp glare cut into him at once. He cleared his throat, though the faint curl of his lips remained. An opportunity to see Damon cornered was not something he would ever waste.
This was the brat that had caused him so many sleepless nights In fact, he could feel some of his hair falling off.
