The sharp smell of antiseptic potions and mint leaf extract was the first thing to pull me from the bottom of darkness.
I opened my eyes slowly. My vision blurred for a moment before finally catching the white wooden ceiling illuminated by the morning sunlight. I was no longer on the muddy ground of the Forbidden Forest. This was the Medical Ward at the Second Academy Post.
I tried to move my right hand.
Sting! Excruciating pain pierced from my fingertips to the base of my neck. It felt as if someone had inserted glass shards into my blood vessels and stirred them. I exhaled a long breath, staring at the ceiling in resignation.
The glass cup is severely cracked, I thought, evaluating myself. My adolescent muscles and blood vessels were nearly torn apart from pumping the Sanguine Core beyond safe limits.
I knew for certain, if I forced myself to use that blood magic in the next week or two, this body would truly explode. For the time being, I could only be an ordinary cadet who had to rely on brains.
Suddenly, very loud and impolite chewing sounds were heard from the bed to my right. Smack, smack, crunch.
I turned my head with great difficulty. Ragnar Holt was sitting cross-legged on his bed. Half of his massive body was wrapped in white bandages, but that did not stop him at all from devouring three portions of meat bread and a large bowl of broth simultaneously.
"Could you chew a little more quietly, Old Bear?" I reprimanded with a hoarse voice. "The sound of your mouth is much noisier than the dragon's roar last night."
Ragnar's jaw movements stopped. He turned to me, his eyes widening, then his raspy laughter exploded until he nearly choked on his own soup.
"Hah! Look who finally woke up from his nap!" exclaimed Ragnar, wiping his mouth with the back of his bandaged hand. "I thought you were already planning to move to the next world."
"Not yet. The God of Death still refuses to accept my application," I replied flatly, trying to sit up despite having to suppress a painful grimace. "What happened after I fainted?"
Ragnar grinned widely, showing teeth that still held scraps of meat. "Oh, you missed an incredible comedy show, Kael! A few minutes after you fainted, a dozen academy knights and senior instructors came charging in shouting. You should have seen their faces when they found the ruler of the Forbidden Forest sleeping and snoring like a stuffed wild boar!"
"And then? Did you have time to take those wolf fangs?"
Ragnar's grin grew more savage. He pointed with his chin toward a tightly padlocked iron-bound wooden chest in the corner of the room.
"Dire Wolf fangs? Of course I brought them. But that is just pocket change," said Ragnar while leaning his body toward me, lowering his voice like a conspirator. "Moments before those knights arrived, our Miss Anomaly told me to climb that dragon's face. Guess what I pried out of there?"
My eyes widened slightly. "Do not tell me..."
"Exactly. An Emerald Wyrm Eye the size of a small watermelon!" Ragnar's laughter boomed, slapping his own thigh. "That thing is valued at tens of thousands of gold coins on the black market! We are rich, Kael!"
Click.
The ward door opened, cutting off Ragnar's euphoria.
Selena Lune stepped in. She had bathed and changed her torn field uniform for a clean and elegant Student Senate uniform. Her black hair was combed neatly, radiating the scent of lavender. She carried a tray holding two glasses of medicinal potions, smiling so gently that anyone seeing her would think she was an angel descended from the sky.
I stared at her. The memory of this girl's smile when watching Vane torn apart by wolves flashed in my mind. A psychopathic angel, I corrected inwardly.
"Good morning, heroes," greeted Selena cheerfully, placing the tray on the nightstand. She handed one glass to me and another to Ragnar. "You slept very soundly. How is your body, Kael?"
"Destroyed," I answered honestly, taking the glass. "But at least I am still breathing. Thank you for... the light show last night, Miss Lune."
Selena chuckled, sitting gracefully in the chair between my bed and Ragnar's. "Oh, please call me Selena. We have already gone through life and death together."
"Very well, Selena," I interrupted, staring into her eyes sharply. "Then, what fairy tale did you tell the Head Instructor about last night's incident? You know they will not believe it if we say we sang a lullaby to a dragon."
Selena folded her hands in her lap, putting on a very dramatic sad face.
"A highly unfortunate tragedy," began Selena with a feigned tone of concern. "I reported that Cadet Vane and his group from the Blood Sword died tragically when ambushed by a pack of Dire Wolves due to their own carelessness. Seeing that, the three of us ran to seek help toward the Second Post."
Ragnar snorted in amusement, trying to hold back his laughter from exploding.
"But a thousand pities," continued Selena, letting out a fake sigh. "In the middle of our escape, we accidentally ran into a rampaging Wyrm. The two of you fought desperately purely to survive. And, oh! What extraordinary luck! Kael's blind sword swing accidentally pierced the dragon's eye."
"Accidentally, huh?" I mumbled sarcastically.
"Of course accidentally," Selena winked one eye. "Then, the blind and exhausted dragon suddenly fell fast asleep. Perhaps because it ate the wrong poisonous moss, or due to a Forbidden Forest anomaly. Who knows? We are just poor cadets who do not understand monster ecology."
Ragnar could not hold it in anymore. He laughed uproariously until he clutched his bandaged stomach. "God of Death, this girl is truly a master deceiver! You should have joined the thief faction, not the Senate!"
I smiled thinly. The alibi indeed had a logic hole the size of a dragon's nostril, but Selena's status as a Student Senate envoy made the instructors not dare to press or interrogate her further.
As long as Vane died torn apart by monsters and there were no human sword slash wounds on his body, no one could prove that we were the culprits.
"A very touching story," I said flatly, downing the bitter potion in my glass. "I almost cried hearing it."
BAM!
The ward door was kicked open so roughly that its hinges creaked.
Sir Vance, the basic class instructor who was the Nightbane faction's errand boy, marched in with wide strides. His face was beet red holding back explosive anger. The veins on his temples bulged, and his hands were clenched tightly at his sides. Two guard knights stood hesitantly behind him.
"Kael Draven!" snapped Vance, his voice booming throughout the room. He pointed straight at my face. "You cunning murderer! What did you do to Vane and the Blood Sword Faction?!"
I stared at Vance with a lazy expression, as if he were merely a fly disturbing my rest time.
"Good morning to you too, Instructor Vance," I replied casually, leaning my back against the pillow. "And to answer your question, the last time I saw him, Cadet Vane was serving as the main breakfast menu for a pack of Ancient Wolves. Didn't Miss Selena already submit her official report?"
"Nonsense!" spat Vance, walking closer to the foot of my bed. "Vane was a Middle Class fighter! There is no way he died by wolves while Basic Class trash like you could survive a Wyrm! You must have trapped them and stolen their hunt!"
Ragnar growled. He put down his soup bowl roughly. "Watch your mouth, Old Knight, before I-"
I raised a hand, stopping Ragnar. Beating up an instructor in the medical ward was not a smart move. In the academy's political arena, sharp words could cut deeper than a sword.
"Steal?" I raised one eyebrow, showing off a condescending smile. "Instructor Vance, I understand you are grieving because your favorite 'pet dog' died. But accusing without proof is defamation."
Vance pounded the iron post of my bed. "To hell with proof! The guard knights said your bear friend carried a sack full of Dire Wolf fangs and an Emerald Wyrm Eye! Those are valuable assets! Hand those items over to the academy right now to be confiscated as investigation evidence!"
So that was his real goal. Vance did not care that Vane died; he only wanted to seize the treasure we obtained to hand it over to Orvelis Nightbane.
I laughed softly. A very cold and dismissive laugh.
"Hand them over to you? Sir Vance, has that sword at your waist rusted your brain?" I mocked mercilessly. "Let us recall the Aethelgard Academy Rule Book. Article 12 regarding Expeditions Outside the Safe Line."
I stared right into Vance's eyes which began to show doubt.
"There it is explicitly written: 'All forms of hunt yields, monster materials, or artifacts obtained independently by cadets outside the safe zone, are the Absolute Property of the cadet concerned and cannot be claimed by the academy'," I recited fluently, quoting a rule I often used to defend war spoils rights in the past.
"You..." Vance's jaw tightened. He realized he had just been checkmated with the very rule he created to protect the nobles.
"Or perhaps you have the authority to alter imperial law, Sir Vance?" I asked with an annoying innocent tone.
Before Vance could respond, Selena stood up from her chair. She smoothed the folds of her skirt, then looked at Vance with a deadly gentleness.
"Instructor Vance," greeted Selena with a melodious yet highly intimidating voice. "As a supervisory representative of the Student Senate, I feel highly disturbed seeing an instructor coerce, accuse, and attempt to seize the property of a severely injured cadet in the medical ward."
Selena tilted her head, her sweet smile reappearing. "Should I write an official complaint letter to the Central Senate and the Head of the Academy this afternoon? I am sure Duke Morcant's faction will be very interested to hear how a lowly knight abused his authority at the Second Post."
Vance's previously beet-red face now turned as pale as paper. A threat carrying the name of Duke Morcant and the Central Senate was not something a corrupt pawn like him could fight.
Vance opened his mouth to retort, but not a single word came out. He looked at me, looked at Ragnar, then looked at Selena in utter defeat. With ragged breath and teeth grinding holding back immense shame, Vance turned roughly.
"This is not over, Draven," he hissed venomously before stepping out and slamming the ward door hard.
The moment the door closed, a brief silence enveloped the room. Then...
"BWAHAHAHA!" Ragnar exploded in the loudest laughter I had ever heard from him. He beat his mattress in pure joy. "Did you see his face?! His face looked like a freshly choked pig! Oh my, you and this girl are truly a terrifying demon pair!"
I only smiled thinly, while Selena sat back down and crossed her legs elegantly.
"Good teamwork, Selena," I said.
"You are welcome, Kael," she replied with her mysterious smile.
To other cadets, this expedition was an exam. But to us, this was a declaration stage. This outcast dog could no longer be trampled in the mud puddle.
While the laughter of victory echoed in the Second Post, the air in a luxurious room inside the Central Academy complex felt bone-chilling.
Orvelis Nightbane sat in his velvet chair, reading a parchment scroll containing a secret report. His purple eyes, which usually implied calm calculation, now sharpened.
In that report it was clearly written: Group 4 Expedition completed. Cadet Vane and the Blood Sword Faction totally annihilated. Mid-Tier Summoning Scroll burned. Cadet Kael Draven and his group survived, and brought home an Emerald Wyrm Eye.
For the first time since he was born, the Nightbane Heir's mask of perfect composure cracked.
His pale fingers gripped the porcelain teacup in his hand so tightly. Crack. The expensive cup cracked. The still-hot jasmine tea seeped out, dripping past his fingers and falling to stain the Persian carpet below. Orvelis paid no mind to the blistering heat on his skin.
He realized one horrifying fact. Kael Draven was not a stray dog that could be tamed or killed with cheap traps. He was a real monster wearing human skin.
Marcus stood trembling in the corner of the room. "Y-Young Master... what should we do? Should I hire another mercenary assassin group from the Upper Class?"
Orvelis placed his shattered teacup on the table. His eyes burned with a silent absolute cruelty.
"Cancel all orders to amateur mercenary groups inside the academy," mumbled Orvelis coldly, his voice as flat as an ice cube. "Stupid cadets will not be able to kill him."
The Duke's Son stood up, staring out the window toward the academy towers.
"Send a secret message to the Black Tower," ordered Orvelis, stating the name of the deadliest assassin guild in the empire. "Tell them, the Nightbane faction is willing to pay any amount. We need a true professional to take that dog's head."