"Don't look at me like that. If you think I'm pretty, you can just say it outright." Yejielin smiled, then continued explaining to her new probationary ally.
"The number of students in the Three-Star Academies is fixed. With you suddenly added, naturally someone else had to be pushed out. And that unlucky person is now your problem.
Understand?"
"I think… I more or less get it," Cassia scratched his head.
"Seems like you don't." Yejielin sighed.
"The military school has five Three-Star Academies, from First to Fifth. Unlike the One- and Two-Star Academies below, the Three-Star Academies have strictly fixed numbers—no more, no less. Originally, Ogris ranked 1024th in the First Three-Star Academy. With your arrival, he was bumped to the Second Three-Star Academy. Consequently, the last student there was pushed into the Third. This chain reaction continues until the last student in the Fifth Three-Star Academy is forced into the Two-Star Academy. Only then does the sequence end. Clear enough now?"
"So in the end, I've unknowingly offended five people at once," Cassia said tentatively. "Even though I did nothing—just arrived here in a daze."
"Exactly. But aside from Ogris, you don't need to worry about the others. They won't pose much of a threat to you—in any sense. Ogris alone is the problem."
"That doesn't really sound like it's my fault." Cassia was a little frustrated.
"You're right—the root cause lies with the military school. But Ogris won't dare show his dissatisfaction upward, so the only outlet left is you, the direct cause. Like they say: people always pick the softest target. Even if the school calls you a genius, anyone who made it into the First Three-Star Academy has real skills."
"Ogris's theoretical scores aren't great, but in combat he ranks among the top. The problem is his temper—horrible. The kind of guy who thinks his abilities can poke a hole in the sky. A man built like a black bear, yet with a heart narrow as a needle. No wonder others often put him in his place. That's why I reminded you—he's trouble." Yejielin mused.
"If you run into him on missions later, it's very likely he'll cause you problems. Casualty rates don't just come from enemies and dangerous environments—your companions each have their own agendas, too."
"Let's leave that for later. I doubt I'll run into him any time soon," Cassia sighed. Not that he was especially worried—he hadn't yet met a problem a bullet couldn't solve. And if one bullet didn't work, then a few more would. For now, he just wanted to figure out the basics of the military school.
Back on the seventh-floor corridor, a figure like a raging bull blocked their way.
"Good evening, Miss Lin. I'm Selmer Bendok, introduced by Atowen."
Selmer towered over Cassia, nearly two meters tall. The temperature outside hovered near freezing, yet he wore only a short-sleeved shirt and shorts, muscles like steel blocks exposed. His square, honest-looking face resembled a country farmer's, but his sharp golden eyes told Cassia he was no fool.
"Welcome to my alliance." Yejielin smiled, lips curved. She picked up the water jug and began chatting with Selmer.
Cassia didn't listen in. He guessed it was about alliance rules and such. Back in his room, he grabbed a cup and downed half the jug of water in one go before his stomach felt better.
Then he picked up the printed sheet again, noting the route to the Biology Building on the map. Afterward, he stripped off his clothes and went to shower.
After nearly a month on the train, even with little exercise in the cold weather, dirt had built up all over his body.
Stepping out of the bathroom, Cassia felt completely refreshed, as if reborn. He read some theology and history, and when the clock struck midnight, sleepiness overtook him. He switched off the lamp, pulled the blanket over himself, and quickly fell asleep.
The next morning at seven, he woke feeling well-rested for once. The bathroom had all the toiletries he needed. After brushing his teeth and washing his face, he drank another glass of cool water to fill his stomach. From the wardrobe, he chose a casual outfit. Taking his ID badge, code card, and bank card, he left the room.
He had already memorized the map roughly. Today, he wanted to send some money home. St. Dorag Military School charged no tuition, and even provided monthly living stipends. Ten thousand a month was no small sum for Cassia, and he could never spend it all. So his first thought was to send some to his mother.
By the time he finished the tedious paperwork, it was nearly noon. Since he couldn't eat, Cassia wandered the campus instead of going back to his room. But after half an hour, hunger drove him back to drink more cold water.
Stomach growling, he had no mood to read. Somehow he endured until seven o'clock in the evening, when knocking came at his door.
It was Yejielin. Cassia opened to confirm.
"Let's go. You also have training scheduled at eight." Her voice sounded as drained as his.
Today she wore a dark blue cotton top and gray trousers. The wooden clogs had been replaced by white shoes. The outfit didn't suit her faintly red hair at all, yet her striking features drew stares from every passing student—girls included. She seemed a walking contradiction, like a living artwork.
Cassia trailed behind, head ducked.
The Biology Building wasn't tall, a square column of metal poured into shape for convenience.
Inside, many were already waiting. Selmer approached with a man built like a ball—that must be Atowen.
"Miss Lin, finally. Without you, I don't feel safe at all."
Selmer wasn't much of a talker, but Atowen looked every bit the smooth-tongued merchant. His fatness was confined to his belly; his face retained sharp lines, and his arms and legs were not as bulky as one might expect. Paradoxically, they seemed honed and refined.
"Haha, hello, hello. Atowen Adam." Atowen greeted Cassia with great enthusiasm—news of the 'genius' had already spread throughout the academy.
"Cassia Tussos." Cassia shook his hand, clearly feeling the restrained strength within.
"Selmer Bendok." Selmer introduced himself formally, though they had already met.
"Miss Lin, what's today's training? The first course after enrollment—what's it going to be like?" Atowen asked eagerly, cheeks flushed with excitement.
Cassia stayed silent, like Selmer, turning his head to observe the crowd.
All 1,024 students of the First Three-Star Academy had gathered. As the elite among elites, each had a distinct personality and aura. In every respect, they stood above their peers. Only at the military school could such a gathering occur—nobles' children mingling with merchants' sons, commoners, war orphans, child mercenaries who had carried guns since youth, wild youths from borderlands… Every year, on a certain day, they came together.
But five years later, on that same day, how many would still stand here? Would it be those ranked highest on admission, or those who had barely scraped by? Would it be self-styled nobles, or commoners whose lives were cheaper than machines? No one could predict. Casualty rates were fair to all—Death respected no identity.
Bolang leaned against the railing, sighing. He had trained countless students over the years and should have grown numb to life and death. Yet each new year, when he saw those fresh faces brimming with vitality and ambition, a soft place in his heart was inevitably stirred.
Stretching his body, he walked into the back room.
"Let's begin." His voice was as cold and heavy as ever, unchanged through the years.