The day's classes concluded with their usual academic rhythm, leaving Azrael feeling refreshed despite the intensive theoretical coursework. After exchanging farewells with Harold and Arnald, he instructed one of his ghost soldiers to transport him directly to the Battle Club facilities.
The spectral servant's sudden materialization from the shadows continued to startle students unfamiliar with Azrael's newest capabilities. However, word of his unique cards had already spread throughout the entire Card Making Department. Once observers recognized him as the freshman who'd claimed a main member position, their initial alarm quickly transformed into curious fascination.
Azrael had only encountered four of his fellow main members through administrative documents and brief corridor meetings. His immediate entry into practical training after joining the Battle Club had prevented proper introductions or relationship building within the organization.
"Teacher Chisaki," Azrael greeted respectfully as he entered the instructor's cluttered office.
"Please, take a seat," Chisaki responded without looking up from his phone, his attention completely absorbed by whatever content was making him chuckle intermittently. His casual dismissal suggested this wasn't an urgent summons.
Observing the instructor's distracted behavior, Azrael decided against pressing for immediate explanations. Since no third party was present, he could eliminate the possibility that someone had issued a formal challenge to his position. That left Battle Club administrative matters as the most likely reason for this meeting.
However, with several months remaining before the national competition, Azrael couldn't fathom what urgent business required his attention now.
Settling into the ornate chair his ghost soldier produced from the surrounding shadows, Azrael began reviewing his future strategic planning. The recent secret realm expedition had finally made his previously unusable materials viable for open trading. Through his senior sister's connections or Wolfgang's intermediary services, he could convert his substantial inventory into cards that wouldn't raise uncomfortable questions about their origins.
His accumulation of Silver-level materials was quite impressive, primarily consisting of components the Crimson Oath Society had provided incrementally over time. Their restriction to covert operations had prevented him from utilizing these resources until now.
Some materials sparked immediate creative ideas, while others would require careful exchange for more suitable alternatives. The flexibility was welcome after months of resource constraints.
While Azrael contemplated his options, the remaining four main members arrived at Chisaki's office in succession. They cast curious glances at the elaborate throne that seemed wildly out of place among the instructor's haphazard furnishings, but maintained respectful silence while awaiting guidance.
Eventually, Chisaki raised his head and noticed five expectant faces staring at him. An embarrassed smile crossed his features as he realized his neglect. "Sorry about that, I got completely absorbed in browsing social media."
Azrael's enhanced vision caught a glimpse of the phone screen, revealing what appeared to be videos of roasted chicken preparation. His expression remained carefully neutral.
Noticing Azrael's observation, Chisaki coughed awkwardly and powered down his device with renewed seriousness. "I've called you all here for important business. This weekend, I've arranged a practice match between our Battle Club and Southeast University's team. Consider it valuable preparation for future competitions."
The announcement surprised Azrael considerably. He hadn't expected the instructor to possess sufficient influence for arranging inter-university competitions so casually. However, upon reflection, anyone qualified to supervise Pixar University's Battle Club would naturally command significant respect within academic circles.
Chisaki prepared to dismiss the group but suddenly snapped his fingers as if remembering something crucial. "This is the first time you've all met properly, isn't it? Perfect opportunity for introductions."
Following this prompt, Azrael rose from his seat and offered a respectful bow to his colleagues. "I'm Azrael. I look forward to working with all of you."
The four main members had never encountered Azrael directly, though rumors of his decisive victory over Kevaugn had circulated extensively throughout their social circle. More intriguingly, Kevaugn had made no attempts to reclaim his position during the past few days. He'd even been observed defending Azrael against critics who questioned his qualifications.
Whatever had transpired between them remained a mystery.
Among the quartet, a young man with meticulously styled hair stepped forward first. "Just call me Oliver," he said with what appeared to be genuine warmth. "Looking forward to future cooperation."
Observing the kind smile on his new colleague's face, Azrael nodded appreciatively. "Thank you, Senior Brother Oliver."
Oliver's expression remained unchanged at this familiar address, though he simply laughed and stepped back without comment.
The remaining three members followed suit with their own introductions.
The individual with dyed red hair and a somewhat casual appearance identified himself as Sun-Myun. Choi-Gyu possessed striking blonde waves and an impressive figure that suggested non-Asian heritage. The final member, Jea-Min, projected quiet intelligence through her black-framed glasses and reserved demeanor.
As Azrael prepared to depart, Oliver's voice stopped him mid-stride. "Could you stay a moment longer, junior brother?"
"Would you be willing to have a practice match with me first?"
Azrael paused, glancing at the other three members who maintained telling silence. "Is Kevaugn perhaps a relative of yours?" he asked with growing suspicion.
This seemed like the only logical explanation for Oliver's interest in testing him. As established main members, they had no compelling reason to challenge his abilities unless personal connections were involved. Moreover, Oliver clearly served as the unofficial leader among the four.
Surprise flickered across Oliver's features before transforming into a hearty laugh. "Student Azrael, you've misunderstood my intentions. However, since the national competition includes team events, we should familiarize ourselves with each other's capabilities."
"Direct disclosure of card information wouldn't be appropriate, so sparring represents the best method for mutual assessment."
Oliver's reasoning was perfectly sound. No Lore Lore Cardian willingly revealed specific details about their strategic assets to potential rivals or teammates without compelling justification.
Azrael glanced toward Chisaki, noting that the instructor had returned to his phone browsing with apparent disinterest. "My apologies, I was overthinking the situation. I have no objections to a practice match."
"Shall we begin immediately?"
Despite his agreement, Azrael couldn't shake the feeling that Oliver's motivations extended beyond simple team preparation. If comprehensive familiarity was truly the goal, shouldn't all four members be participating in multiple matches rather than focusing exclusively on testing the newcomer?
Oliver either didn't notice Azrael's lingering suspicion or chose to ignore it, maintaining his sincere expression. "If today isn't convenient for you, what day would work better?"
Azrael shook his head dismissively. "Today is fine. A brief sparring session won't require significant time investment."
"Excellent. Let's head to the mountain training ground now."
Oliver immediately led the group toward the exit, his eagerness evident.
Since other members were present, Azrael refrained from utilizing his ghost soldiers for direct transportation to the summit. Such a display would have been disrespectful to his colleagues' more conventional travel methods.
During their ascent up the mountain path, Azrael discretely observed the expressions and body language of his companions. However, Oliver and the others maintained neutral facades that revealed nothing about their true intentions or expectations.
Upon reaching the plateau training ground, Chisaki clapped his hands to capture everyone's attention.
"Exercise appropriate restraint during your match," the instructor advised, though his gaze focused specifically on Oliver rather than Azrael. "This is practice, not a demonstration of ultimate techniques."
Oliver's gentle smile never wavered, as if he couldn't comprehend the warning's subtext. "Of course, Teacher Chisaki. It's merely a sparring session, I'll naturally show proper restraint."
After this reassurance, he guided the other three main members to the opposite side of the combat area, leaving Azrael alone with the instructor.
Chisaki's expression shifted to one of weary resignation as he turned toward Azrael. "Just do your best out there. There's no need to push yourself to the absolute limit."
"After all, this is only practice. Even if you lose, it won't affect your status as a main member."
The instructor's words carried clear subtext, he expected Azrael to lose this encounter and wanted to minimize any damage to the young man's confidence or position. His pessimism about the outcome was unmistakably evident.
Rather than taking offense at this assessment, Azrael simply nodded respectfully. While he harbored no intentions of losing, arguing about predictions seemed pointless. "I understand, Teacher Chisaki."
Chisaki appeared indifferent to whether Azrael had truly internalized his advice. With a resigned shake of his head, he moved to the sidelines to observe whatever drama was about to unfold.
Standing alone in the center of the training ground, Azrael studied his opponent across the intervening distance. Oliver's confident posture and the supportive presence of the other main members suggested this encounter had been planned well in advance. Whether their motivation stemmed from genuine concern about team dynamics or simple curiosity about his capabilities remained unclear.
"Ready when you are, Senior Brother Oliver," Azrael called out, his voice carrying clearly across the mountain air.
Oliver's smile widened with what might have been anticipation or satisfaction. "Then let's begin, junior brother. Show me what earned you that main member position."
The challenge hung in the air between them like a drawn blade, while the afternoon sun cast long shadows across the ancient training ground where countless previous battles had been fought. Whatever the outcome, this match would establish the foundation for all future relationships within the Battle Club's hierarchy.
Azrael felt no nervousness as he prepared to demonstrate exactly why Kevaugn had chosen not to seek a rematch. Some lessons, he reflected with dark amusement, were better learned through direct experience than secondhand warnings.
The mountain breeze carried the scent of conflict as two figures faced each other across the scarred stone of Pixar University's most prestigious training ground, each confident in their own strength and prepared to prove their worth through the ancient language of combat.