Leaving the armory behind, Simon and Dean headed toward the castle's rear exit. As they stepped out, they were greeted by the lush, rolling green hills that stretched out behind the fortress. Since they were now navigating an incline, the task became significantly more strenuous. Dean strained at the rope in front, while Simon put every ounce of his strength into pushing the cart from behind.
"You doing okay back there?" Dean asked, glancing over his shoulder. Simon, despite the beads of sweat forming on his brow, gave a determined nod.
"I'm... I'm doing fine," he replied, his voice slightly breathless but steady.
"Senior..."
"Just call me Dean. I prefer it that way. What's on your mind?" Dean replied warmly.
"Dean... about the match you mentioned... is it like a full-on weapon battle?"
"Well, kind of. But it's not just about fighting. Exigros is much more than that."
"Exigros?" Simon repeated, the unfamiliar word feeling strange on his tongue.
"Yeah. In the Mythaion language, it translates to 'Victory,'" Dean explained, beginning to dive into the specifics of the game.
"In Exigros, there are seven players per team. Every player carries a certain amount of points. The Captain holds the highest points and is, naturally, the hardest target to take down. Two teams are released into the forest to hunt for hidden flags, each worth different points. While you're searching, if you run into an opponent, you can engage them to steal their points. You have to rip the emblem off their chest—if you manage that, you gain their individual score. It's all about accumulating the most points by the end."
Simon listened with wide-eyed fascination. A game like this was unheard of in his world, yet it sounded incredibly thrilling.
"So, the team that finds the flags, gets those points, right?"
"Yep. But you have to raise the flag high and shout 'Exigros!' at the top of your lungs. Otherwise, it doesn't count," Dean added with a grin.
"Oh... I see."
As they reached the crest of the hill, a training ground came into view below. The Fyrnic Exigros team was mid-drill, their movements sharp and coordinated.
"They're our Chamber's representatives. They're top-tier," Dean said proudly. Simon could only nod in impressed silence.
"Come on, I'll introduce you to the team."
Simon froze. "Wait, really? I don't want to be a bother... I might get in their way."
"Don't worry about it! You helped me haul this heavy cart all the way here—the team needs to know that. Why are you so anxious? Just relax."
"Ah... but you know... I'm just..." Simon's voice trailed off as he looked down at his feet, nervously scuffing his shoes against each other. Seeing the boy's hesitation, Dean let out a soft sigh and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"Don't sweat it. Everything's going to be fine. Come on..."
Simon stole a quick glance at Dean, and seeing the genuine encouragement in his eyes, he finally gave a small nod and followed him down toward the field.
"Oh, I should warn you. Our Captain is quite terrifying. You can tell just by the fact that he's got us training this hard on only the second day of school,"
Dean said with a mischievous smirk. Simon swallowed hard and nodded, feeling a fresh wave of anxiety about meeting this "Captain."
As they pulled the cart onto the field, the other players began jogging over to them.
"Dean, you took forever, man! The Captain's about to snap your bones," one of them shouted.
"Sorry, sorry! Lucas gave me an errand to run on the way. Oh, and everyone! This is Simon. He's a first-year, and he helped me haul all this gear up here."
In an instant, all eyes were on him. There were five of them—three boys and two girls. Every single one of them was not only older but had the powerful, muscular build of seasoned athletes. Standing among them, Simon felt smaller and more fragile than ever. Simon felt incredibly out of place under the collective gaze of the team. He felt like an ant caught among a herd of elephants, dwarfed by their towering heights and powerful builds. But to his immense relief, even though they clearly recognized who he was, they chose warmth over intimidation.
"Thanks for helping him, kiddo!" one of them chirped, reaching out to ruffle Simon's messy black curls. Simon stood there, helpless and flushed, as they took turns fussing over him like a new mascot.
"Alright, everyone, let's give the little guy some breathing room," Dean chuckled, stepping in to rescue Simon before he could be completely overwhelmed by their boisterous affection.
From behind, a chilling voice cut through the air: "What's all this noise?"
Simon looked up to see a man even more massive than the others. He had a buzz cut with a visible scar running across his scalp, and deep, narrowed eyes beneath thick brows. To Simon, with his own hair messy like a bird's nest, this man looked utterly formidable. This was the team's Captain.
"Back to your drills, now!" he barked, and the seniors quickly dispersed, scurrying back to their training. The Captain strode over, looming even taller than Dean.
"What took you so long?"
"Ran into Lucas on the way. He needed a hand with something," Dean explained smoothly.
"Oh, and Lucas sent this for you." He pulled a candy out of his pocket and handed it to the Captain.
"He said you need to replenish your sugar levels since you're always so angry. His words, not mine!"
The Captain snorted but took the candy anyway. Then, his sharp gaze shifted toward the small figure standing beside Dean.
"And who is this ant?"
"This is Simon. He's a first-year who gave me a hand with the gear," Dean introduced him, tilting his head toward Simon.
The Captain crossed his arms, his brows knitted as he appraised Simon. The boy was painfully thin, his frame looking smaller than even a typical twelve-year-old's. Simon, for his part, had to crane his neck so far back to look up at him that it felt like it might snap.
"This is a first-year? First-years these days look like they're starving... all bone and no meat," he remarked bluntly, his voice carrying a thick Russian accent.
"Did you bring him here just to do your work for you?"
"No, of course not. I just couldn't manage the weapons cart by myself, so I asked him for a hand," Dean clarified quickly.
"It's done, then? Send him back."
With that dismissive command, the Captain turned on his heel and strode away. Dean let out a long sigh and looked at Simon's downcast face.
"Don't mind him. He's just like that. His name is Vukasin Sokolov."
Simon nodded slowly, his eyes wandering back toward the training field. If he went back to the dorm now, Kai and the others wouldn't be out of class yet. He'd just be sitting there alone, brooding over the morning's events and making himself miserable. But here, the air was fresh, and getting to watch how the seniors trained to become so powerful was a rare opportunity.
"Could I... stay here and watch for a while?" he asked Dean, hopeful.
Dean looked at him, then glanced over at the Captain, who was already barking out orders.
"Alright. But stay tucked away over there and keep quiet, okay? The Captain tends to explode if anyone interrupts the drills."
Simon beamed and nodded quickly, giving his word. He settled onto the soft green grass at the edge of the field, his eyes fixed on the seniors as they began their intense Exigros maneuvers.
Simon sat mesmerized as he watched the seniors train. Their movements were a blur of speed and raw power—a dance of steel and strategy. Each of them radiated an aura of absolute confidence that Simon couldn't help but envy. At that moment, a dangerous yet exhilarating thought took root in his mind.
If I could become an Exigros player... maybe people would stop bullying me.
He imagined a world where he wasn't just "the son of a criminal" or a "weakling" to be stepped on. If he could excel in Exigros, people would see Simon—the skilled warrior rather than the shadow of the Blackburn legacy. It was a flickering flame of hope, a desire to prove his worth to a world that had already written him off. Simon's eyes flared with a sudden, unyielding resolve. In his heart, he knew this was the right path. At that moment, Dean walked over to take a breather, dropping onto the grass beside him.
"Getting bored yet?" Dean asked, wiping sweat from his forehead.
"Dean... I want to be part of this game."
"Huh?" Dean blinked, caught completely off guard by the sudden intensity in Simon's voice.
"I want to be an Exigros player. Please, put me on the team. I'll do anything. I'll carry the weapons, I'll clear the trash from the field—whatever it takes."
"Whoa, whoa... hold up, Simon," Dean said, raising his hands to calm him down. "Entering the game isn't as simple as you think."
"What do you mean?"
"The official Exigros roster only allows seven players—I'm one of them. Only those seven get to actually play. Everyone else is just a trainee, and some spend their entire school years without ever being selected for the main team. Besides, for Exigros, you need your own weapon and combat skills, which you won't even start learning until your second year. You can only join the squad in your third year, and even then, it's just as a trainee. You're a long way off from being a player."
Hearing Dean's words, the fire that had just been lit in Simon's chest began to flicker and dim, replaced by a cold wave of disappointment. Noticing the way Simon's face fell, Dean felt a pang of guilt for crushing the boy's newfound spirit. Yet, truth was truth, and there was no sense in sugarcoating it.
"These are rules, Simon—we can't just break them. Besides, Exigros involves live-weapon combat. When players get desperate for points, they can get incredibly aggressive. That's why only students of similar strength and experience are allowed to compete. A younger student without proper training would just end up getting seriously hurt."
Simon gave a heavy, slow nod. He understood. Dean's words were a bitter pill to swallow, but they were grounded in reality. He realized he had let his desire for recognition cloud his judgment. In the grand scheme of things, he was still just a first-year student who hadn't even taken the first step up the long staircase to become warrior.
Dean gave Simon a supportive pat on the shoulder, a warm smile spreading across his face.
"It might not be possible right now... but you can always come by, watch us train, and learn everything there is to know about the game."
Simon smiled back and gave a firm nod. He realized that even if he couldn't step onto the field yet, he could still be an observer—a student of the craft. During this time, he would do more than just watch; he would prove to everyone that he was nothing like his father. He would carve out his own path and show the world who Simon truly was.
Simon returned to the dorms, his mind still buzzing with the day's inspirations. Just as he reached the elevator and prepared to step inside, a girl stepped out. It was Conner Wulian, a fellow first-year. With her chin-length dark brown hair, she gave Simon a sharp, appraising look and arched an eyebrow.
"Oh, it's you," she said nonchalantly. "Your red-haired friend is currently throwing a fit in the common room, convinced you've been kidnapped. You might want to go deal with that."
She brushed past him with a casual air, leaving Simon staring after her in confusion. Kidnapped? He could already imagine Kai's over-the-top reaction. After a brief moment, Simon shook his head and stepped into the elevator, heading up to face the chaos.
As soon as the elevator doors slid open in the Common Room, Kai's booming voice was the first thing to hit Simon's ears.
"Leader Lucas! I'm telling you, those Old-Blood guys kidnapped Simon! It's a fact! How is it possible for someone as quiet as Simon to just vanish from the dorm? It's not right!" Kai was practically vibrating with frantic energy, cornering Lucas.
"Peterson, please calm down," Lucas replied, his voice a picture of patience. "I sent a senior to check on him. He likely went along with him."
"And what if that senior kidnapped him? You can't trust anyone in this place!" Kai countered stubbornly.
Jack, standing nearby and pressing his fingers over his temple, groaned.
"Stop shouting. This is Willowgate, not Kidnappgate. If Simon were actually kidnapped, the Masters would know."
"The Masters aren't CCTV cameras! I'm telling you, the Old-Bloods planned this to take my friend!"
"Peterson, please refrain from making such inflammatory statements," Lucas requested firmly. Just then, Finn, who had been standing quietly off to the side, spotted Simon by the elevator.
"Simon!"
At Finn's shout, every single head in the room snapped toward the elevator. Simon stood there, blinking in bewilderment at the chaotic scene. Kai rushed over immediately, checking Simon from head to toe as if he were looking for hidden wounds.
"Are you okay? Did someone snatch you? Tell me! It was those Old-Bloods, wasn't it? And how's your nose feeling?"
"Kai... calm down. I'm fine," Simon said softly, trying to soothe his frantic friend. "I just stepped out with Senior Dean for a bit. I was feeling a little suffocated staying in the room, so I went out for some fresh air. I'm sorry if I made you worry."
Only then did Kai let out a massive sigh of relief. Jack seized the opportunity to chime in. "See? And you were just running your mouth without a shred of common sense."
Kai pouted, turning a sharp glare toward Jack. "What? My concern was perfectly valid! Who was it that broke Simon's nose in the first place? You Old-Bloods! So yeah, of course, I was worried!" Jack simply rolled his eyes in response to Kai's outburst.
Lucas watched from a distance as the students of his Chamber bustled about in a chaotic but lively display. Kai was fussing over Simon, while Jack was bickering with an annoyed expression. To an outsider, the scene might have seemed like a headache, but for Lucas, it carried a strange sense of warmth. A faint smile played on his lips as he let out a soft, contented sigh.
The bonds between these kids, even their constant squabbling were the very soul of this dormitory. He looked particularly at Simon; the boy who had once been so frail and easily shaken now seemed a fraction more grounded under the protective wings of his friends. It was a heartening sight.
"Come on, Simon! Let me tell you about today's Magic Theory class," Kai said, leading him toward the elevator. Simon listened, but his mind wandered back to the seniors—especially Dean. If it hadn't been for Dean, Simon might never have found a path forward.
"Kai..."
"Yeah?"
"You were right."
"Right about what?"
"About the seniors. Most of them really are kinder than people our own age."
Kai studied Simon's face for a moment before a knowing grin spread across his face.
"Maybe it's just the Mythaion way... or the Willowgate style," Kai mused.
"Maybe so," Simon replied with a small, genuine smile.
The day had begun with the sting of being bullied, but it was ending on a far different note. Simon now had seniors he could look up to, friends he could trust, and most importantly, a goal worth fighting for.