Chapter 128
Henry
IAM found himself walking down one of the many hallways of the academy, flanked by three other people—three individuals who, just a week ago, had been complete strangers.
Now, they walked with a kind of loose familiarity. Not quite friends, but orbiting that warm center. They moved at an unhurried pace, students in the middle of their first proper break, still absorbing everything they had just learned.
Walking slightly ahead was Yohan—a descendant of the Oni, and someone whose presence had begun to feel oddly comforting. His dirty blonde hair sat wild and shapeless on his head, the kind that sprouted like a mushroom cap, no care given to styling it, and yet it somehow suited him. One of his eyes was a cool, calculating blue, while the other was a warm brown, more thoughtful than intense. He rarely spoke unless directly addressed, and even then, kept his words short and considered. He was the type to listen twice before saying anything once.
In contrast, walking beside Yohan was Reuel, a descendant of the Knight. Reuel had a modern mullet that managed to be stylish rather than obnoxious, with its front fringe dyed blue—a loud flare against his otherwise porcelain skin. His brown eyes gleamed with enthusiasm, and he radiated a kind of effortless charm that made conversation come easy. Where Yohan brought silence, Reuel brought noise. He spoke often, laughed loudly, and seemed eager to befriend everyone he met.
And then there was Henry—the newest addition to this budding little group.
IAM didn't know much about Henry yet. He hadn't spoken much, hadn't tried to impress anyone, and hadn't made any grand declarations. But sometimes, there was a quiet confidence about him.
Henry's curly hair bounced gently with each step he took, soft and springy, giving him a carefree look. His complexion had a golden warmth to it, and it harmonized perfectly with his unusually light brown eyes—so pale they were nearly the color of sand kissed by the morning sun. On one ear, he wore a single long silver earring that swayed with each motion, catching the light.
He was dressed in the standard academy uniform, though like all sponsored students, his had been customized slightly by his brand—Rolen. The subtle tweaks to the jacket, the fit of the trousers, even the clean, minimalist watch on his wrist with a faint red ring and a small "R" etched onto the face—it all added up to a look that was effortlessly sharp.
To IAM, Henry was... nonchalant. Not cold... Just relaxed, like a person who rarely felt the pressure of urgency. Chill, in every sense of the word. And in a place like the Academy, that kind of energy was refreshing.
IAM turned slightly toward him as they walked, finally asking something that had been on his mind.
"I saw your duel against Marcus… it was really impressive. Especially for someone without an Avien. You seemed really comfortable with the baton—was that just temporary, or is your weapon of choice a sword?"
Henry let out a smooth laugh, light and effortless.
"Yeah, I use a Jian," he replied casually. "Been practicing with it for years. Apparently, I'm… decently talented."
Reuel chimed in, always eager to hype up his friends.
"And do you know what's even more impressive? He's just a couple of days away from forming his Avien!"
IAM raised his brows slightly. That was no small feat.
Henry simply shrugged, brushing off the compliment.
"Oh, it's nothing. Anyway, we've got like, what, an hour break? What do you guys wanna do?"
Reuel's eyes lit up immediately like someone had just lit a sparkler inside his head.
"Cafeteria. Definitely the cafeteria. Best place to socialise with people from other classes. C'mon, this is how alliances and rivalries start!"
He laughed like a madman as he marched ahead without waiting for agreement.
The rest gave each other a silent look—part amusement, part resignation—before following.
The cafeteria was located inside the main hall, an enormous structure of arching ceilings, reinforced glass, and beams of natural light. Students bustled in and out, some still in uniform, others in casual outfits they had changed into during the break. The air buzzed with conversation, clattering trays, and the occasional announcement from automated speakers.
Unlike the restaurants scattered around the campus, which catered to a more specialized palate, the cafeteria was the beating heart of the student body—a place where you could see first-years eating alongside fourth-year's and future allies beside future enemies.
IAM found himself standing in front of one of the sleek black ordering machines lined up near the entrance. He scrolled through the menu. Burgers, noodles, rice bowls, sandwiches, fruit mixes, energy bars, nutrient packs. Everything looked good. Maybe a bit too good.
But then he noticed something else. Numbers.
Next to every item was a small figure in brackets.
[5 HP]
[10 HP]
[15 HP]
His stomach dropped slightly.
Hope Points.
Of course. It all cost HP. He had almost forgotten.
Back in his dorm, the hotel's meal plan was covered—at least for now. But outside that safety net, everything cost points.And once his free meal allocation ran out, he'd have to pay for those too.
IAM kissed his teeth in irritation.
He would have to be frugal—extremely frugal.
He settled on a simple chicken sandwich and a bottle of water.They appeared with a soft mechanical whir on the tray beneath the screen. He grabbed the tray and turned to scan the room for an open spot.
Reuel was already waving him down from one of the long tables, smiling like a child that had already picked the best seat.
IAM joined them, sliding into a seat next to Yohan while Reuel and Henry sat across from them.
They made small talk as they ate—trivial things, bits about their class prior, other students and food preferences. The vibe was peaceful.
IAM had finished his sandwich with a satisfied swallow.
He took a long sip from his water, letting his mind drift a little.
But just as he set the bottle down, he heard footsteps.
A voice followed—it was loud and far too close.
IAM looked up.
Approaching them was an older man—maybe around twenty-seven—broad-shouldered, with an expression that seemed permanently annoyed. He walked with six others behind him, each looking just as smug and uninterested in peace as he did.
They stopped right in front of the table.
And then, without ceremony, the man shouted—
"What the fuck are you doing here!?"
IAM blinked once.
Here comes trouble, he thought.
And just like that, the moment of peace was over.