Damon lowered himself back into his seat with unhurried ease, his posture settling once again into that same relaxed sprawl as Eric leaned in beside him, while just to his side, Mira remained standing awkwardly, her head lowered and her fingers fidgeting restlessly as though unsure where to place herself, her entire presence caught between hesitation and obligation.
Damon glanced up at her briefly, his gaze steady but unreadable as his thoughts moved beneath the surface.
With a weakling like Eric… and someone overly innocent and timid like her… I won't have to watch my back every second…
The conclusion came naturally.
Efficient and practical.
"You don't have to worry about anything, Miss Mira," he said calmly, his tone softer than before, carrying a deliberate reassurance, "I apologize for what I had to do to get you into my party."
Mira looked up at him, clearly taken aback, her expression shifting into mild surprise as she struggled to process his words.
"And also," Damon continued without pause, "for pretending not to recognize you the day before yesterday."
"P-pretending…?" Mira repeated under her breath, the realization hitting her in pieces as her face flushed once again, her confusion only deepening rather than resolving.
Damon studied her reaction for a brief moment.
…What's with her?
Before he could dwell on it further, Eric leaned closer, his voice dropping into an eager whisper.
"BOSS! We still need two more members," he said quickly, his eyes flicking between Damon and Mira before returning to him, "with you and… uhh… boss's future madam already covering the top ranks, and me sitting proudly at rank fifty, we've got room to balance things out with anyone from the middle tiers."
Damon gave him a sidelong glance, unimpressed but not interrupting.
Before he could respond—
"Oye."
The voice came from the side as Damon turned.
Khaira stood there, her presence as imposing as ever, her gaze flickering briefly—very briefly—toward Mira's breasts before she unconsciously puffed out her own, straightening slightly as though asserting something unspoken, before her eyes snapped back to Damon.
"Take 'er in yer party," she said, her heavy, rolled accent thick as she jerked her chin toward someone behind her.
Damon followed the direction.
A beastwoman stood there.
Goat-like horns curved slightly from her head, her dark skin contrasting sharply against the lighter tones of the room, her figure well-built yet balanced, her posture steady despite the attention now shifting toward her.
Damon looked at her once.
Then back at Khaira.
"Why should I?" he said flatly, "take her into your own party."
Khaira clicked her tongue in annoyance, folding her arms as she replied.
"'Cause dat damn rule dat maniac set, ya idiot… use yer head."
Damon's gaze shifted again, this time toward another group.
"What about that rank six guy?" he asked, pointing casually toward a beastman standing not too far away—Grukk—whose party already appeared complete.
The goat beastwoman spoke this time, her voice carrying the same heavy, grounded accent, though softer in tone.
"'E ain't takin' any other woman… 'e's stuck on Miss Khaira 'ere," she said, glancing briefly at Khaira before looking back at Damon.
Damon raised a brow.
"Then why doesn't he just join her party?"
Khaira snorted lightly, her lips curling as she tilted her head.
"Hmph… 'e can come near me only after 'e beats me," she said with a dismissive shrug, as if the condition itself was obvious.
Damon exhaled quietly, already regretting asking.
His gaze returned to the goat beastwoman.
"Still," he said, his tone unchanged, "why should I do it?"
Khaira clicked her tongue sharply, a low hiss escaping her as she turned her head away, clearly irritated at having to concede anything at all, before speaking with that same rough, rolling accent, her tone edged with reluctant acceptance.
"Fine… I owe ya a favor," she said, her eyes narrowing slightly as she added with blunt indifference, "or ya can just ask 'er to sleep with ya or somethin'… don't matter."
Damon blinked once.
Genuinely caught off guard.
His gaze shifted slowly toward the goat beastwoman, who, without hesitation or visible embarrassment, nodded as though the suggestion had been entirely reasonable.
"I can do that," she said simply, her tone steady and unbothered.
Beside him, Mira froze completely.
"W-what…?" she stammered, her voice trembling as her eyes widened, then slowly lost focus, turning hollow as the words settled, "s-sleep…?"
Damon looked back at Khaira for a brief second, then let out a quiet breath as he spoke.
"Fine," he said flatly, "you owe me a favor."
"F-fine…?" Mira echoed faintly, her voice barely holding together as she stood there, still processing what had just happened.
Khaira gave a short nod, as if the matter was already closed, before turning away without another word, leaving the goat beastwoman behind as she walked off to rejoin her own group.
Damon shifted his attention back.
"What's your name?" he asked.
The goat beastwoman straightened slightly, her posture firm as she replied.
"Zarhka," she said, her accent thick and grounded, her voice carrying a natural weight.
Eric leaned forward immediately, curiosity taking over.
"And your rank?"
For a moment, Zarhka didn't respond, her gaze lowering slightly as if bracing herself before she spoke.
"F-fourty one…"
She waited for a reaction.
But none came.
Eric simply nodded, thoughtful.
"Hmm… that's good."
Damon didn't comment.
Mira didn't react.
The absence of judgment seemed to catch Zarhka off guard more than anything else, her eyes lifting slightly in quiet surprise before she fell silent again, choosing not to say anything further.
"Now just one more!" Eric added, glancing around eagerly.
Damon's gaze swept across the classroom once again, observing the now nearly complete formations as he spoke with quiet certainty.
"Almost all parties are formed," he said, "whoever is left will end up with us."
And as if his words had triggered something inevitable, the final movements across the room settled, the last groups locking into place until only a single figure remained.
An elf sitting alone.
He looked around once, then stood, his expression composed but clearly strained beneath the surface as he began walking toward Damon's group, his gaze passing over Eric first—with visible disdain—then over Zarhka with even sharper contempt, before finally landing on Damon and Mira.
Damon met his eyes.
Directly.
Unflinching.
The elf stopped in front of them, his voice carrying a quiet edge.
"I didn't expect the first ranker of Crownspire to form a party with weaklings."
Damon's lips curved faintly.
"Speaks the one who wasn't invited into any party," he replied smoothly, his tone calm but cutting.
The elf's expression tightened.
Damon's gaze shifted briefly toward the other groups, where the elves had already divided themselves neatly into two groups mixed with humans.
"Ohh…" he added lightly, "are you upset that even your own kind didn't pick you?"
A flicker of fury crossed the elf's eyes ,just for a second.
But it was enough.
Damon saw it.
And smiled inwardly.
Perfect…
An inferiority complex… abandoned by his own…
He stood up then, closing the distance without hesitation, placing an arm casually over the elf's shoulder as if they were already acquainted, his tone lowering slightly, becoming almost conversational.
"I'll give you a chance to prove yourself," he said, his voice smooth yet deliberate, "focus on what you should do, and I guarantee… you'll earn your place back."
The elf stiffened.
His reaction immediate.
"Vaelith," he said after a brief pause, his voice more controlled now, "rank… twenty-three."
Damon's expression remained unchanged, but his thoughts moved quickly.
…So easy to control.
Behind him, Eric let out a short laugh, clapping his hands together in satisfaction.
"We're done!"
As the final member settled into place and the last of the murmurs began to fade, a sudden burst of sound tore through the classroom, sharp and unexpected, as fireworks erupted overhead in a dazzling spray of light and color, shimmering fragments scattering like confetti through the air, drifting down across desks and shoulders in a display that felt entirely out of place and yet perfectly in line with the chaos that defined their instructor.
In the midst of it, Valerian appeared once again at the front of the classroom as though he had always been there, his figure materializing through the fading sparks, his grin wide and unrestrained as laughter spilled from him without warning.
"Hahhahahahihihahahha… how amusing…" he said, his voice echoing lightly through the room as his eyes swept across the newly formed groups, "forming parties with your friends, some bound by favors, some stitched together through manipulation, some dragged together by pure desperation…"
His laughter rose again, erratic and sharp.
"Hahahhaihiahiahahee… if only the real world worked like this…"
The classroom fell into a tense silence beneath his words, no one daring to interrupt as his tone shifted just slightly, enough to signal that what followed would matter.
"Well then," he continued, clasping his hands behind his back as he tilted his head, "since you have all formed your parties, here is your first assignment…"
His gaze sharpened, focusing now.
"You will select any Level 2 breach that has been officially recorded and deemed suitable for your current party composition, and based on that, you will design the most efficient and optimal walkthrough possible, accounting for roles, positioning, risk factors, and execution flow."
He paused just long enough for the weight of it to settle.
"You will be graded based on your analysis," he added, his tone almost playful again, "not your strength… not your bravado… but your ability to think."
A faint smirk returned.
"See you."
And just like that, another burst of fireworks exploded through the room, light scattering once more as his figure dissolved into nothing, leaving behind only the fading glow and the assignment hanging heavily in the air.