The following morning did not offer the luxury of a slow rise. At exactly 5:00 AM, the heavy iron doors of the Basement Barracks were blown off their hinges—not by an explosion, but by a concentrated gust of pressurized wind.
A line of Valkyrie guards, clad in silver-and-gold plate, marched into the damp hallway. At the head of the group stood Princess Seraphina. She didn't look like a royal visiting the poor; she looked like a commander entering an enemy camp.
"Class F," she announced, her voice cutting through the groggy silence. "And Class S. The Imperial House has decided that the gap between the 'Elite' and the 'Dregs' has grown too wide. For the next three days, you will train as one unit. The S-Ranks will learn to protect assets, and the F-Ranks... will learn to survive."
The sun had barely crested the horizon when the two most extreme ends of the Academy met in the Iron Courtyard. It was a surreal sight. On one side stood the S-Ranks—Elara, Raiden, Julian, and Aurelia Vane—looking like gods in their pristine, glowing uniforms. On the other stood the F-Ranks, a collection of shivering, sleep-deprived "failures."
Cassian stood at the very end of the line, his hair messier than usual, his uniform tunic buttoned incorrectly. He looked like he was leaning against the air itself just to stay upright.
"Raiden, look at him," Elara whispered, her heart aching. "He's shivering. He shouldn't be here."
"Quiet, Elara," Raiden grunted, though his jaw was set tight. "The Princess is making a point. If we interfere, it only makes him look weaker."
Seraphina stepped onto a raised stone dais. "The first phase of the Joint Survival Drill is the Trial of the Whispering Woods. Each S-Rank student will be assigned two F-Rank 'liabilities' to escort. If your liabilities 'die' to the forest's illusions or beasts, the S-Rank fails. If the F-Ranks survive, they earn their right to eat in the main refectory for a week."
She paused, her golden eyes locking onto Cassian with predatory intent. "Prince Julian will take the lead group. Elara and Raiden will take the flanks. And I... I will personally escort the 'True Null,' Cassian Valerius, and the student known as Leo."
The courtyard went silent. A Princess of the Realm acting as a bodyguard for the lowest-ranked student in history was an unprecedented insult—or a terrifying interrogation.
The "Woods" were a restricted sector of the Academy, a dense, magically-warped forest where the trees moved when you weren't looking and the mist tasted of old copper.
As the groups entered the dark tree line, the atmosphere shifted. The light was swallowed by a thick, grey fog that dampened mana-signatures.
"Stay close, Cassian," Seraphina commanded, her hand resting on the hilt of her sun-iron blade. "The Shadow-Hounds in this sector hunt by sensing fear. If you panic, they'll tear you apart before I can draw my sword."
"I don't have enough energy to panic, Your Highness," Cassian drawled, his voice thick with a fake, languid fatigue. He was shuffling through the brush, his hands deep in his pockets, looking as though he were on a casual evening stroll. "But if a hound does show up, could you ask it to be quiet? I have a bit of a headache."
Seraphina's eyes narrowed. She was watching him like a hawk, her "Eagle-Eye" spell active, tracking every twitch of his muscles. He isn't breathing like a scared boy, she noted. His heart rate is steady. Almost... too steady.
Deep in the thicket, a sudden, high-pitched whistle echoed—the signal of a Shadow-Hound pack. From the mist, three beasts of pure black smoke and jagged teeth emerged, circling the trio.
Leo screamed, falling to his knees. "We're going to die! They're right there!"
Seraphina prepared to strike, her golden mana beginning to flare. "Stay back, both of you!"
But before she could unleash her sun-fire, the lead hound lunged—not at the screaming Leo, but at the silent, slouching Cassian.
Cassian didn't draw a weapon. He didn't scream. He "stumbled" over a protruding root, his body tilting at an awkward, clumsy angle. To Seraphina, it looked like a pathetic accident.
In reality, that stumble placed Cassian's body in the exact trajectory of the hound's leap. As the beast's smoky claws reached for his throat, Cassian's shoulder "accidentally" brushed against the creature's chest.
Cassian's Internal Rhythm (No Monologue):
The contact lasted for a microsecond. To anyone watching, it was a collision. But beneath the fabric of his cloak, Cassian opened a microscopic rift. The Shadow-Hound's mana wasn't just blocked—it was negated.
The beast let out a confused, silent shriek. Its smoky form flickered violently, turning translucent as it passed through Cassian, slamming into a tree behind him and dissipating into nothingness.
"Oh! My apologies," Cassian wheezed, falling into a bush and flailing his arms. "I think I bumped into it. Is it gone? Did the Princess kill it? That was amazing, Your Highness!"
Seraphina froze. She hadn't even swung her blade. She looked at the spot where the hound had vanished, then at Cassian, who was currently struggling to get out of a thorny shrub, looking thoroughly pathetic.
I didn't hit it, she thought, her pulse quickening. It hit him and... it broke.
"Something is wrong," she whispered, her golden eyes flashing with a sudden, sharp intensity. She didn't call off the drill. Instead, she gestured deeper into the forest. "The altar is still two miles away. Move. Now."
Across the woods, the sounds of S-Rank spells—Elara's fire and Raiden's lightning—boomed through the trees. The "Joint Training" had only just begun, and the Princess was determined to push the "Dud" until his mask finally cracked.