Chapter 842 - Report
The academy library was quieter than usual, the weekend keeping most students away from the usual hum of study sessions. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, casting golden streaks across the long wooden tables. The faint scent of aged paper and ink filled the air, blending with the distant, muffled conversations of a few other students scattered throughout the vast space.
Astron was already seated at one of the large study tables near the back, where the lighting was soft but adequate, and distractions were minimal. A sleek tablet rested on the desk before him, his sharp purple eyes scanning through the notes he had compiled for the report. His posture was relaxed yet composed, his expression unreadable as always.
He didn't glance up when the library door creaked open, but he registered the approaching footsteps without difficulty. A moment later, Layla appeared, her dark brown hair slightly tousled from the wind outside. She was dressed casually, her usual armor replaced by a simple fitted sweater and leggings. She spotted Astron almost immediately, her green eyes lighting up with recognition.
"Morning," she greeted, her voice light but carrying a faint undercurrent of weariness.
Astron finally looked up, his sharp gaze meeting hers for a brief moment before he nodded. "Morning."
Layla hesitated for a second before pulling out the chair directly across from him. She settled into her seat, setting down a notebook and a pen before leaning forward slightly. "You're early."
Astron shrugged, shifting his tablet slightly. "Figured I'd get started."
Layla huffed a quiet chuckle, shaking her head. "Of course, you did," she said, amused. "You probably already have half the report written."
"Not quite," Astron replied evenly. "Just structured some notes."
Layla leaned forward slightly, tilting her head as she glanced at Astron's tablet. Instead of the densely packed paragraphs she had expected, there were only a few structured bullet points and fragmented observations. Nothing was fully written out—just key notes, quick thoughts, and reminders about what needed to be addressed in the report.
She hummed in mild surprise. "Huh. So you really haven't written much yet."
Astron didn't look up. "Told you."
Layla leaned back in her seat, stretching her arms behind her head. "That's good. I don't want to be a freeloader."
At that, Astron finally lifted his head, his sharp purple eyes regarding her for a brief moment. "That's a good attitude."
Layla blinked at him, not sure whether to take that as praise or just a neutral observation. His expression, as usual, gave nothing away. She exhaled through her nose, shifting her weight in the chair.
'This guy is really hard to talk to,' she thought, drumming her fingers against the edge of her notebook. It wasn't that he was cold—he just didn't offer much. He didn't open up topics, didn't throw out idle comments, didn't create any kind of conversational flow. Layla was used to casual banter, but with Astron, it felt like every interaction was deliberate, precise, and brief.
And maybe that was fine for some people, but Layla disliked silences more than awkward conversations.
Determined to fill the air with something, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "You always this early to things?"
Astron blinked, as if the question had mildly surprised him. "Yes."
"Always?"
"Always."
"Hmm….What hour do you wake up?"
Astron blinked, his sharp purple eyes meeting Layla's as if she had just asked him something trivial. "At 4 A.M.," he replied simply.
Layla froze. "At four—?!" Her voice came out louder than she had intended, drawing a few sharp glances from the other library-goers. She cleared her throat, lowering her voice with an awkward cough. "Ahem… That early?"
Astron didn't react to her outburst, only tilting his head slightly as if considering whether her surprise was justified. Layla, however, caught the way he was looking at her now—like she was some strange, uncomprehending creature.
"What?" she asked, crossing her arms. "It's not that weird, right? Who even wakes up that early?"
"Those who have goals," Astron replied evenly.
Layla blinked, his words catching her off guard. She narrowed her green eyes at him. "...You make it sound like I'm lazy."
"I did not say that," Astron said, still calm. "I simply answered your question."
Layla huffed, tapping her fingers on the wooden table. "But it did make me feel like that."
Astron met her gaze with the same unshaken patience, his voice steady. "Then, it is your problem. Just because one may feel a certain way doesn't mean I need to adjust myself to them."
Layla stared at him, processing his words, and a strange sensation crept up inside her. It wasn't quite anger—but it wasn't pleasant either. He spoke so matter-of-factly, as if his words had no weight outside of simply being true. But that—that mindset—it rubbed her the wrong way.
"…That is a very selfish thing to say," she muttered, crossing her arms.
Astron raised an eyebrow. "Why? Isn't it my right to speak what I wish to?"
Layla hesitated, searching for the right words. "That is… that is your right, but…"
"But?" Astron prompted, his expression unchanged.
"But isn't it also their right to not hear words that offend them? That disturb them?" Layla asked, leaning forward slightly. "It's not just about your right to say things—it's also about how your words affect others."
Astron didn't respond immediately. Instead, he regarded her with his usual unreadable expression, as if weighing the merit of her words. Then, after a pause, he spoke. "So, should people never speak if what they say might offend someone?"
Layla frowned. "That's not what I'm saying."
"Then what are you saying?" Astron asked, his voice still composed, but there was a subtle curiosity in his tone, as if he genuinely wanted to hear her answer.
Layla exhaled, rubbing her forehead. "I'm saying… people shouldn't just speak without considering the impact of their words. It's not about suppressing what you want to say—it's about understanding that your words do something to people. Don't you care about that?"
Astron's gaze didn't waver. "If people are shaken by words alone, then they should question why those words have such an effect on them."
Layla scoffed, shaking her head. "Oh, come on. That's such a cold way to see things."
Astron blinked, as if unfazed. "Reality is often indifferent."
Layla stared at him, feeling that strange sensation rise in her chest again. Frustration? Annoyance? She wasn't sure, but talking to this guy was like debating a stone wall—unmovable, unaffected. His words weren't cruel, but they lacked something that irritated her to no end.
"Hello."
Just then, a familiar voice broke through the conversation, smooth and confident. Both Astron and Layla turned toward the entrance of the library, where Irina stood, her fiery red hair no longer in its usual waves but perfectly straightened, cascading down her back like a river of flame. The way the strands caught the sunlight from the library windows only accentuated the rich, striking color, making it almost glow.
Her bright amber eyes held an intensity that was hard to ignore, their sharpness undimmed even in the serene atmosphere of the library. But what caught Layla's attention the most was Irina's expression—she was smiling. And not her usual smirk or teasing grin, but a relaxed, pleased sort of smile, as if she had already won a battle no one else even knew about.
Her outfit complemented her beauty effortlessly. She wore a sleek black turtleneck that fit snugly against her frame, highlighting her toned figure, paired with high-waisted beige trousers that added a touch of effortless elegance. Over it, she had draped a stylish, deep crimson jacket that matched the warmth of her hair, making her presence feel even more radiant.
Layla blinked, momentarily thrown off by how put together Irina looked. Usually, she had a more battle-ready aura, but today? Today, she looked like someone who had just stepped out of a high-class academy brochure—refined, confident, and completely in control.
Irina's eyes flicked between the two of them before she gracefully made her way to the table. "You two are looking serious," she mused, setting her bag down as she pulled out a chair. "Did I walk in on something intense?"
Layla, still somewhat baffled by the way Irina carried herself today, waved a hand dismissively.
"It was nothing. We were just talking."
"Talking….Hmm…."
Irina let out a quiet laugh as she sat down across from them. "Ah, so nothing new then." Her gaze drifted toward Astron, her amber eyes gleaming with amusement. "Did you scare Layla off with your logic again?"
Astron remained unfazed, closing his tablet as he met Irina's gaze. "She started the conversation."
Layla could only shake her head.
Irina smirked, clearly enjoying the exchange. "Well, that's what you get for trying to talk to him so early in the morning." She leaned back slightly, folding her arms. "Speaking of which, Astron—what time did you get here?"
Layla, still somewhat stuck on their earlier conversation, answered for him with an exaggerated groan. "Four. A. M."
"….."
"….."
To that both of them could only look at Layla silently.
Chapter 843 - Report (2)
Layla blinked as both Astron and Irina stared at her in silence, their expressions unreadable yet oddly synchronized. It was like they had both decided to pause reality just to process her words.
"…What?" she asked, frowning slightly.
Neither of them answered. Astron remained as still as ever, while Irina's smirk widened ever so slightly, amusement flickering in her amber eyes. Layla looked between the two of them, her frustration growing.
"What?" she repeated, louder this time.
Irina exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. "You really are good at acting."
Layla's eyebrows shot up. "What does that mean?"
Before Irina could respond, Astron—without missing a beat—answered in his usual calm, measured tone. "She's not acting. She really believed what she said just now."
Irina blinked before leaning slightly forward, eyeing Layla with newfound interest. "…Really?"
"Yes," Astron confirmed simply.
"You can't be serious," Irina said, now looking back at him.
"Sadly, I am."
Layla's patience, already worn thin from her earlier conversation with Astron, snapped. "Hey! What are you two even talking about?"
Irina turned her gaze back to Layla, her expression somewhere between amusement and disbelief. "You actually think he came here at four."
"What? He said that?"
Astron remained as composed as ever, his sharp purple eyes unwavering as he countered, "I didn't say that. I said I wake up at four A.M. That doesn't mean I was here from that hour."
Layla blinked, her brain catching up to what he had just said. "…Wait."
Irina smirked, resting her chin on her palm as she leaned forward. "Yeah, he usually spends his mornings training. Then he comes here."
Layla opened her mouth, then closed it. And then it hit her.
They weren't calling her crazy for thinking four A.M. was early… they were calling her crazy for thinking Astron had actually been sitting in the library that entire time.
"Oh."
A beat of silence stretched between them before Layla cleared her throat and let out a weak, forced chuckle. "Ahaha… I was just joking." She waved a hand dismissively, trying to play it off.
Astron, of course, was completely unmoved. His gaze remained steady as he spoke. "You weren't."
Layla tensed slightly. "What? Of course I was—"
"When you joke, your lips curl slightly at the end of your sentences," Astron stated matter-of-factly. "You didn't do that just now."
Layla's breath hitched, her entire body stiffening.
Irina's smirk widened. "Ooooh, wow. He's calling you out, Layla. This is rare."
Layla's eyes darted between the two of them. She was cornered. Absolutely, completely cornered.
"Aaaaaah…." she groaned, slumping forward onto the table and burying her face in her arms. "Why are you guys like this?"
And that was all it took for Irina to start laughing. "Ahaha! This is priceless." She clapped her hands together once, unable to hold back her amusement.
Astron, as expected, didn't laugh. But Layla, still hiding her face in her arms, noticed something. The corner of his lips twitched. Just slightly.
Her eyes narrowed. They were messing with her.
With newfound determination, she shot her head up, pointing a finger accusingly at both of them. "You guys are totally teasing me!"
Irina grinned. "Oh, we absolutely are."
Astron didn't confirm nor deny, but the fact that he didn't refute it only made Layla more sure.
"…This is the worst," Layla muttered, dropping her head onto the table again in utter defeat.
Irina let out another laugh, while Astron returned to his notes, as if this entire conversation had been a minor detour in his perfectly scheduled day.
Layla, meanwhile, silently vowed revenge.
Just then, the sound of the library doors creaking open drew their attention. Two familiar figures stepped inside—Jasmine, her usual easygoing grin in place, and Sylvie, her green eyes scanning the room before settling on the group. Both carried their bags, looking slightly less enthusiastic about spending their weekend on an assignment but ready nonetheless.
"Morning, everyone," Jasmine greeted, her voice light as she approached the table.
The moment Layla saw her, she leaped from her seat and rushed toward her like a desperate survivor finding an escape route. "Jasmine… save me," she pleaded dramatically, grabbing onto her friend's sleeve.
Jasmine, caught off guard, blinked in confusion before glancing between Layla, Astron, and Irina, who were both watching the scene unfold with clear amusement. "Uh… from what, exactly?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
Layla whirled around, pointing at the two culprits like they were criminals caught red-handed. "These two! They ganged up on me!"
Jasmine's eyes gleamed with interest as she set her bag down. "Oh? Do tell."
Layla wasted no time launching into an exaggerated retelling of the past few minutes—the way Astron called her out without hesitation, Irina's merciless laughter, and the completely unfair way she had been cornered. She spared no detail, making her suffering sound as dramatic as possible.
When she finished, there was a brief silence.
Then Jasmine burst out laughing. "Pfft—oh no, Layla, not logic-based bullying," she teased.
Sylvie, who had been quietly listening, giggled as well, covering her mouth slightly. "It does sound like you walked right into that one."
Layla groaned, slumping into her chair again. "Et tu, Sylvie?"
Sylvie's smile was soft but unmistakably amused. "I mean… you kind of did."
Irina smirked, satisfied. "See? Everyone agrees."
Layla groaned again, placing a hand over her face. "This is the worst."
Jasmine pulled out a chair and patted Layla's back comfortingly. "There, there. We all knew you'd be the easiest one to tease."
"I hate this team," Layla muttered, but there was no real malice in her tone.
Jasmine grinned and stretched her arms over her head. "Anyway, I say we get some caffeine before we start this dreaded report."
"Agreed," Irina said, standing up. "I'll order for myself. You guys want anything?"
"I'm getting my own," Jasmine said.
"Same," Layla grumbled, still recovering from her humiliation.
Sylvie hesitated before speaking softly, "Um… just a caramel latte for me."
Astron, unsurprisingly, remained seated. "Black coffee."
Irina rolled her eyes. "Of course."
Jasmine chuckled. "That man drinks his coffee like he drinks his truth—completely unfiltered."
Astron didn't react, but Irina smirked at the comment before heading toward the café counter inside the library.
Jasmine turned to Layla with a knowing look. "You sure you don't need an extra-sweet coffee after today's suffering?"
Layla narrowed her eyes. "I will survive."
A few minutes later, everyone had their drinks in hand, and the lighthearted banter faded as the group finally turned their focus toward the real reason they were here.
Astron, who had remained quiet through the coffee detour, tapped his tablet and brought up the structured outline he had prepared. His sharp purple eyes scanned the group. "Now that we're settled, let's start."
The chatter died down as the team leaned in, ready to tackle the assignment.
As the group settled in, the lighthearted atmosphere gradually faded into something more focused. Everyone had a casual understanding of what they needed to do—after all, Astron had already gone over the report structure the last time they met. Still, the weight of Professor Kain's assignment lingered in the back of their minds.
Sylvie took a sip of her caramel latte, then set it down gently. "So… we're all on the same page, right?" she said, glancing between the others. "The report is basically an analysis of our experience with Kalthor's Method—what worked, what didn't, and why we were forced to use it."
Jasmine leaned back in her chair, lazily stirring her drink. "Yeah. And we get why the professor made us use it now." She exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. "Honestly? I didn't really think about it at the time. We were so caught up in the fight that I didn't stop to ask why we had to stick to the formation."
Layla hummed in agreement. "Same. During the battle, all I was thinking about was holding the line. Not why we had to hold it."
Irina crossed her arms, her amber eyes narrowing slightly as she tapped a finger against her arm. "It's frustrating in hindsight. There were so many moments where I wanted to break formation, to push forward, to fight how I usually do—but we were forced to stay locked into our roles." She sighed. "At the time, it felt like a restriction. Now? It makes sense."
Astron, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke. "Because we were trained to work as individuals."
The group fell silent, letting his words sink in.
Astron's gaze remained steady, scanning the faces of his teammates. "Kalthor's Method is outdated by modern standards, but it exists for a reason. It was designed to create disciplined team cohesion without needing a tactician to guide every step." He leaned back slightly, tapping his fingers against the table. "We were forced to train in a formation that didn't rely on improvisation, adaptation, or individual style—just pure teamwork."
Sylvie nodded slowly. "And that's why the professor didn't let us adjust it on the spot," she said thoughtfully. "He wanted us to feel the weaknesses in real time."
"Yeah," Jasmine muttered, resting her chin in her hand. "And the worst part is that we didn't realize it until after the fight. During the battle, we were too focused on surviving to notice the why."
Irina scoffed. "Tch. I hate that he got us like that."
Layla chuckled. "You sound like you respect it, though."
Irina rolled her eyes. "That's beside the point."
Jasmine smirked. "Nah, you totally respect it."
Astron ignored their exchange, his voice calm as he continued. "That's why the report is important. It's not just about analyzing our performance—it's about recognizing what Kalthor's Method was supposed to teach us."
Sylvie exhaled softly. "Right. So… let's break it down properly." She glanced at Astron's tablet, where the outline was neatly arranged. "We should probably start by listing what we struggled with first."
Layla groaned. "That list is gonna be long."
Jasmine laughed. "Then we better get started."
With that, the group finally shifted fully into work mode, their conversation becoming more structured as they dissected their experiences in the dungeon. While the fight had ended days ago, the real lesson was only now beginning.
Chapter 844 - Report (3)
The library remained quiet, save for the occasional sound of pages turning, soft murmurs from other students studying in the distance, and the steady tapping of fingers against tablet screens. The sunlight had shifted since they first sat down, now casting longer shadows over the wooden table. Their drinks, once fresh, were nearly empty, long forgotten in favor of their discussion.
The group had been working for over an hour, dissecting their experience in the dungeon and putting their thoughts into structured sections. They had covered everything—the advantages of Kalthor's Method, its limitations, the way it forced them to work as a unit instead of relying on their individual strengths. Every flaw they had experienced, every moment of frustration, now made sense in hindsight.
Jasmine stretched her arms over her head, letting out a sigh. "Alright, I think we've covered everything. We got weaknesses, strengths, why the method was enforced, and how it affected us. Did we miss anything?"
Sylvie scrolled through the document on her tablet, her green eyes scanning through their work one last time. "No, I think that's everything." She hesitated before adding, "We actually covered more than I expected."
Layla let out a groan, dropping her head onto the table. "That's because we had too much to say. Turns out fighting while being forced into a rigid formation gives you a lot to write about."
Irina smirked, crossing her arms. "Ironic, isn't it? We complained about it at the time, but now we're writing a whole report about why it actually worked."
Jasmine chuckled. "Kain's gonna love this. 'See? You suffered, but it was all for a reason.'" She mimicked the professor's tone in an exaggeratedly serious way, making Layla snicker.
Throughout the conversation, Astron had remained mostly silent, only speaking when necessary to provide structure or clarify points when the discussion went off track. Now, as the others exchanged final thoughts, he gave a small nod. "We're done."
Irina arched an eyebrow. "That's it? Just 'we're done'?"
Astron met her gaze, his expression as unreadable as ever. "Do you need me to say more?"
"Hmm….I guess no."
Now that Irina saw what she was doing, she realized that she did not in fact want him to talk more. Even she was tired from all those talks.
Sylvie smiled slightly, tapping a final note on her screen. "Alright. We'll review it once more later, just to be sure, but for now… I think we can call it finished."
Layla lifted her head from the table and exhaled dramatically. "Finally. I thought we'd be stuck here all day."
Jasmine leaned back in her chair, satisfied. "Well, it wasn't so bad. We actually worked together without completely getting on each other's nerves."
Irina smirked. "Give it time."
As the final notes were typed and the discussion came to its natural end, the group collectively leaned back in their chairs, exhaustion settling over them. The library remained quiet, the steady hum of students working in the distance providing a strangely soothing backdrop. The drinks on their table were long neglected, now lukewarm at best, but no one was in a hurry to get up just yet.
Layla, stretching her arms above her head, let out a loud sigh before dropping them onto the table with a soft thud. "Okay, now that we're finally done with that mess," she began, her voice carrying a hint of relief, "let's talk about something actually interesting."
Jasmine raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"
Layla smirked. "Mentorships."
That got everyone's attention.
Sylvie glanced up from her tablet, curiosity flickering in her green eyes. Irina, who had been absentmindedly twirling a lock of her fiery hair between her fingers, stilled slightly but said nothing. Astron, as always, remained composed, but there was a flicker of awareness in his sharp purple eyes.
Layla, undeterred, leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm. "So? Who are you guys planning to apply for?"
Jasmine leaned back, crossing her arms as she thought about it. "Hmm… I was thinking about applying for Selena Vayl, but—" She sighed, shaking her head. "She's getting flooded with high-ranking cadets, and I doubt I'd even make it past the first selection."
Layla whistled. "Yeah, she's popular. I heard even some top ten cadets are trying to get her."
Jasmine nodded. "Exactly. So, I might go for someone else, but I haven't decided yet."
Layla smirked. "Well, I don't have that problem. I'm applying for Jared Falkner—he's the only tank Hunter coming in as a mentor. No competition there." She leaned back, stretching her arms. "I mean, unless I suddenly decide to switch to some other role—which, let's be real, isn't happening."
Sylvie, who had been listening quietly, gave a small nod. "My choice is already locked in. There are only two healers available as mentors, and I'll probably apply for Professor Mirian. She's the one with the best focus on hybrid combat healing."
Irina smirked. "That's convenient for you. Less competition."
Sylvie hesitated before nodding. "It is, but it also means I don't really have a choice in the matter."
Irina hummed in acknowledgment before shrugging. "Well, I don't have that problem either. I'm applying for Amelia Lake."
Jasmine whistled. "Oof, going for one of the hot topics, huh? She's young, but she's been making waves."
Irina grinned. "Of course. If I want to push myself further, I might as well go for someone who knows what it means to reach the top." She leaned back, crossing her arms confidently. "Besides, she's an elementalist like me—it just makes sense."
Layla nodded, swirling what remained of her drink. "Yeah, yeah, we get it. You're ambitious."
With most of their decisions laid out, their collective gaze naturally shifted toward Astron, who had been silent throughout the discussion.
Jasmine tilted her head. "What about you, Astron? Who are you applying for?"
Astron, unbothered by their sudden focus, calmly set his tablet down and answered in his usual composed manner. "Professor Eleanor."
A beat of silence stretched between them.
Then—
"Wait, what?" Jasmine sat up straight, blinking in surprise. "Eleanor? Professor Eleanor?"
Layla looked equally shocked. "She's not even on the mentor list."
Sylvie's green eyes widened slightly. "How is that even possible?"
Astron reached for his smartwatch, tapping the screen before turning it slightly so they could see.
"Your mentor has been confirmed.
Mentee: Astron.
Mentor: Eleanor White."
There was a moment of stunned silence.
Then—
"Wait, what?" Layla exclaimed, leaning forward to get a better look at his screen.
Jasmine's eyes widened slightly. "Eleanor chose you?"
Irina, who had suspected as much since the classroom, simply narrowed her eyes slightly, observing him.
Sylvie frowned. "That… doesn't follow protocol."
Astron nodded. "It doesn't."
Layla shook her head in disbelief. "No application? No selection process? Just straight-up assigned? That's insane."
Jasmine tapped a finger against the table. "That means she specifically requested you."
"Yes."
This would be a no secret anyway. After all, the moment everyone's mentors were revealed, sooner or later, the academy would come to know him and Ethan's mentors.
Therefore, Astron had no intention of keeping this secret.
The silence stretched for a moment longer, the group collectively processing what they had just learned. Of all the things they had expected to hear, this was not one of them.
Jasmine was the first to react. "Okay, I know we already said this, but seriously—this is insane. Eleanor doesn't take mentees, and yet here you are, waltzing in with a direct confirmation from her?" She shook her head. "You better not tell me you're surprised by this."
Astron, as calm as ever, simply shook his head. "I'm not."
Layla leaned in, resting her elbows on the table. "So, this is why she called you that time, huh?" Her green eyes gleamed with curiosity. "You and Ethan."
Astron nodded. "That was the reason."
Irina, who had been quietly watching him the whole time, tilted her head slightly. "Figured it was something like that." She tapped a finger against her coffee cup. "Still… Eleanor personally mentoring anyone is huge. She's not just a professor—she's one of the most ridiculously skilled hunters in the academy's history. Everyone respects her." Her amber eyes narrowed slightly. "And yet, she specifically reached out to you and Ethan."
Sylvie, who had been silent up until now, finally spoke. "Do you know why she did that?" Her voice was quieter than the others, but it carried a weight of genuine curiosity.
Astron shrugged slightly. "I have some ideas, but nothing concrete." He leaned back in his chair. "She didn't explain in full detail. She only said she wanted to guide us."
Jasmine caught the wording immediately. "Us?" Her green eyes sharpened as she pieced it together. "That time, Ethan was also called with you. Does that mean…?"
"Yes," Astron confirmed simply. "She chose us both."
"I see…" Sylvie murmured, her expression thoughtful. She rested her chin in her hand, eyes flickering with quiet contemplation.
Layla crossed her arms, still processing. "So, basically… she saw something in you two. And instead of letting you apply like the rest of us, she just decided to take you in?"
"Essentially."
Irina exhaled, shaking her head slightly. "Tch. Must be nice."
Jasmine smirked. "Oh, she's jealous."
Irina shot her a look. "I'm not jealous."
"Sounds exactly like something a jealous person would say," Layla teased.
Irina rolled her eyes, though there was no real heat behind it. "Shut up."
Jasmine, reading the situation, leaned back in her chair. "Well, whatever it is, you'll figure it out soon enough."
Layla groaned, rubbing her temples. "I still can't believe you're just assigned a mentor while the rest of us have to fight for ours."
"That is life, I guess."
"Life indeed."
Just like that the talk have ended.
Chapter 845 - Gaze
The classroom was alive with a quiet sense of anticipation as the cadets settled into their seats. Unlike some of the more rigorous combat or strategy courses, Artifact Studies was a two-hour weekly course that, while not mandatory for all specializations, had drawn a surprising number of students due to its engaging nature.
At the front of the room, Professor Aldric Fenwell stood beside a long table, his sharp green eyes gleaming behind his thin-framed glasses. A variety of small artifacts were carefully arranged before him, their polished surfaces catching the light from the overhead fixtures. He was one of the academy's more charismatic instructors—not just because of his deep knowledge of relics and enchanted items, but because of his ability to make even the most mundane theoretical topics sound fascinating.
As the final students took their seats, Fenwell clapped his hands together once, a warm smile on his face. "Alright, cadets, today's lesson will focus on entry-level artifacts—a topic that, while seemingly basic, serves as the foundation for every hunter's career. Understanding artifacts and their practical applications can make the difference between surviving a mission and having to be carried out of a dungeon."
That last statement earned a few chuckles from the room, though most students remained focused, eager for what was to come.
Fenwell gestured toward the table. "Now, before we dive into theory, let's start with a fundamental question. Who can tell me what defines an artifact?"
A few hands shot up. Among them, Sylvie was the first to be called on.
"An artifact is a tool or object imbued with mana," she answered smoothly. "Unlike standard enchanted weapons, artifacts don't require their users to channel their own mana directly—they operate using embedded runes, cores, or pre-set enchantments."
Fenwell nodded approvingly. "Excellent summary, Miss Sylvie. Artifacts serve as a bridge between raw magic and practical application, allowing even those with weaker mana control to wield powerful effects. However, this also means that users must understand the limitations and risks involved."
He picked up a small, circular metal device from the table. "Take this for example—a standard-grade kinetic bracer." He held it up so the class could see. "Designed for hunters who lack significant physical reinforcement abilities, this artifact absorbs incoming kinetic force and redistributes it into controlled bursts. It won't make you invincible, but it will let you take a hit and return one just as hard."
The cadets murmured among themselves, some leaning forward to get a better look.
"Irina," Fenwell called out, turning to her. "If you were using this artifact in combat, what would you consider its greatest advantage?"
Irina crossed her arms, her fiery yellow eyes flicking toward the bracer. "If it works as you described, it would allow someone to trade blows without taking full damage. That's useful for front-liners who rely on counters."
Fenwell nodded. "Exactly. A fighter could absorb the impact of a strike and retaliate before their opponent fully recovers. But—" he turned toward Ethan, who was sitting a few rows back, "—what's the catch?"
Ethan tilted his head slightly, thoughtful. "It depends on how the stored force is released. If it builds up too much without a proper output, it could backfire or strain the wearer's body. Overuse could also make someone reliant on it, instead of improving their own defensive skills."
"Excellent observation," Fenwell said, smiling. "Artifacts are tools—not crutches. Hunters must understand how to use them without becoming dependent on them."
He moved on, picking up a different artifact, a small crystalline orb encased in silver filigree. "Now, here's one I think some of you will find particularly useful. A basic mana-conversion charm. It takes in ambient mana and converts it into a purified form, allowing for smoother spellcasting. This is particularly beneficial for those with unstable mana flow."
Jasmine leaned forward, intrigued. "How much does it boost efficiency?"
"About 12-15% for beginners, though experienced casters can optimize that further."
Julia, unable to resist, smirked. "Alright, but how much does it cost?"
Fenwell chuckled. "More than you'd like, Miss Julia." That earned another round of laughter from the students.
The lesson continued with Fenwell demonstrating a few more artifacts, explaining their uses and potential drawbacks. Unlike some dry theory-heavy courses, this class kept students engaged with real-world applications and practical insights. Even Astron, who was usually quiet in discussions, seemed focused, his sharp violet eyes locked onto the artifacts as Fenwell explained their properties.
By the time the first hour passed, most of the students were fully absorbed in the lesson, taking notes and occasionally whispering excitedly about which artifacts they might one day use.
Fenwell clapped his hands again, drawing the students' attention back to him. "Now, it's time to put that knowledge into practice. Theory is important, but application is what truly refines a hunter's understanding of artifacts."
He turned toward the projection panel at the front of the room and tapped a few commands onto his tablet. "Open the Artifact Profiling System app on your academy tablets."
The students quickly navigated through their interfaces, and within moments, their screens displayed an interactive catalog of each cadet's ability distribution, represented by various parameters categorized under different rankings—A, B, C, and so on. Though labeled similarly to grading systems, these rankings weren't absolute but rather an approximate way to visualize personal skill development. The distribution varied based on combat efficiency, mana capacity, adaptability, and unique abilities.
Fenwell continued, "These rankings do not determine your overall potential, nor are they meant to compare you directly to one another. They simply provide a general outlook on areas where artifacts could supplement or enhance your performance. Today, you will be working in pairs, analyzing your counterpart's ability distribution and discussing potential artifact improvements that would complement their combat style."
The system automatically generated paired assignments based on combat compatibility and variation in skillsets. The names appeared one after another on the projected screen at the front of the class.
Irina was paired with Lilia.
Julia with Sylvie.
Jasmine with Layla.
And then—
Astron ➝ Lucas
Lucas, who had been lazily resting his chin on his palm, raised an eyebrow at the pairing before letting out a small, amused exhale. "Huh. Didn't see that coming."
Astron, meanwhile, merely glanced at his screen before closing it and looking toward Lucas with his usual unreadable expression. He had no objections.
Fenwell nodded in satisfaction. "I expect each pair to take a few minutes to analyze each other's ability distribution and come up with at least one artifact that could help mitigate a weakness or enhance a strength. Once done, we'll have a few of you present your findings."
The room quickly filled with soft murmurs as cadets turned toward their assigned partners.
Lucas took his time before moving, stretching slightly as if he were only half-invested in the assignment. In reality, his mind was already at work, dissecting everything he knew about Astron Natusalune. His hands slid into his pockets as he approached the other student, a slow, easy smile forming on his lips—natural, practiced, disarming.
As he reached Astron's desk, he pulled out the chair opposite him and plopped down casually. "Looks like we're partners. Lucky you, huh?" he quipped, tilting his head slightly. His voice carried the same lighthearted amusement he had always used, the kind that made him seem easygoing and carefree.
Astron, however, didn't react. His violet eyes met Lucas's for a brief moment before shifting back to the tablet in front of him. "Let's just get this done." His voice was flat, devoid of any interest.
Lucas's smile didn't waver. If anything, it widened ever so slightly. Dull as always… but something's different.
He leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers lightly against the edge of the desk as he observed Astron with veiled curiosity. His posture was relaxed, but his mind was already analyzing, already searching.
This guy… he's also assessing me.
The realization settled in his gut, an instinctual feeling more than anything concrete. Astron's expression was unreadable, his gaze steady but not overtly probing. Still, Lucas had been watching people for a long time, and he knew when someone was watching him back.
'Or am I just overly conscious?'
He considered the thought for a brief moment, but no—he wasn't wrong. There was something about the way Astron looked at him. Not in the way most did, with admiration, envy, or even mild interest. No, Astron's gaze was calculating.
He's trying to gauge me. Why?
Lucas leaned forward slightly, feigning a glance at the tablet in front of him. He already knew what it said—his ability distribution was well-balanced, with high marks in combat adaptability and mana efficiency. He knew how others saw him: talented, capable, the model cadet. But Astron?
Lucas had looked into his background over the break. Nothing particularly interesting had come up. An orphan, adopted by a Hunter named Garrett. No records of any outstanding achievements, no high-profile mentors, no clear reason for him to be here aside from the man who had vouched for him.
He should be nothing special.
Yet, somehow, here he was—entwined in Ethan's life, in Irina's, even in the Saintess's. His presence was inconsistent with what he was supposed to be. And if there was one thing Lucas hated, it was inconsistencies.
Still, none of this showed on his face. His smile remained, his tone light. He tapped at his screen lazily. "So, Astron," he said, "looks like your mana control is on the weaker side. You should consider something like a mana stabilizer, maybe a modified version of that conversion charm the professor showed us."
Astron merely nodded, his expression unchanging. "And you?"
Lucas chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "Oh, come on. I'm flawless, obviously. But if you had to pick, what artifact do you think I'd need?"
Astron's gaze flicked up at him again, and for the first time, Lucas saw something in his expression—something subtle, barely perceptible, but there. A moment of quiet analysis.
Lucas met his gaze evenly, still wearing his easygoing smile.
Chapter 846 - Gaze (2)
Astron remained silent for a moment before finally responding, his tone as dull as ever. "We're not talking about our own abilities," he stated flatly. "This is just a randomly assigned profile, remember?"
Lucas blinked, before letting out a small chuckle. He caught that fast. Most students simply treated the exercise as a way to compare real strengths and weaknesses, but Astron had immediately pointed out the intended nature of the lesson. It wasn't about themselves—it was about assessing a theoretical profile.
Without missing a beat, Astron continued. "But if we're following the assigned profile…" His violet eyes flickered to the tablet again, scanning over the statistics before speaking. "This individual has a strong affinity for combat adaptability and physical reinforcement but lacks a refined mana signature. That means his reinforcement ability likely prioritizes raw strength over efficiency. If that's the case, artifacts that optimize mana flow would be beneficial. A mana circuit optimizer or an attunement glyph would reduce energy loss during reinforcement."
Lucas watched him closely, his smile unfaltering, but inside, he was quietly impressed. Huh… not bad. Even though this wasn't a particularly difficult exercise, Astron's ability to assess and pinpoint optimizations with precision stood out. Unlike other students who might have just thrown out generic suggestions, Astron had considered the logical next steps, showing a surprising level of insight.
Lucas let out a laugh and waved his hand playfully. "Well, if that were really me, then yeah, I'd definitely pick those up. Wouldn't want to be inefficient, after all." He winked before leaning back again, as if he was completely at ease.
But his mind wasn't at ease at all.
He was thinking.
About the timeline.
Astron wasn't supposed to be here. He was supposed to die in the final exams after becoming a demon contractor. That was the sequence of events Lucas had seen in his visions. That was the truth that was supposed to unfold.
Yet, it hadn't happened.
Not only had Astron avoided his fate, but the entire attack during the final exams had somehow been exposed and prevented.
That wasn't something that could just… happen. Not naturally.
Maybe someone else notified this guy?
Lucas frowned inwardly. The butterfly effect was real, yes—but this wasn't just a minor ripple in fate. The villain organization, Vanguard, had been planning that attack with precision. The Demon Contractors had moved carefully, ensuring their infiltration was undetected.
Yet, someone had managed to predict the attack. Someone had changed the course of events.
Someone else saw the future.
Lucas was sure of it.
But there was no one in the academy—no one even remotely connected to Astron—who could fit that role. He had checked, investigated, turned over every stone in the break period. The results weren't bright. Astron's history was clean. Just an orphan, adopted by a hunter named Garrett, admitted to the academy likely through connections. Nothing about him screamed 'chosen by fate' or 'harbinger of change.'
Yet, Lucas couldn't deny it—Astron was one of the most changed variables. If there was someone who had interfered with the timeline, they must have influenced Astron in some way.
That was why Lucas had been keeping an eye on him. Searching for clues.
Could it be him?
It was possible. But at the same time, the change was too drastic.
Lucas sighed internally. The more he thought about it, the more complicated things became.
Even if Astron had somehow seen the future, it didn't explain the stark difference between the person in his visions and the one sitting before him now. The Astron of the vision was weak—far too weak. It was precisely because of his lack of talent that he had been driven to desperation, to the point where he had chosen to become a demon contractor.
But the Astron before Lucas?
He was different. Stronger. More composed. Even his presence was subtly different, no longer the easily ignorable, quiet student he once was. It didn't make sense.
Maybe a regression? Lucas considered, his fingers absentmindedly tapping against the edge of the desk. But even that theory didn't fully hold up. If Astron had regressed, shouldn't there be signs? Awareness of events that had yet to come, an unnatural level of skill, something to indicate that he was trying to change his own fate?
But there was nothing.
No clear-cut signs, no obvious advantages that a regressor should have.
Then what the hell is it?
Lucas hated uncertainties. He had spent two months thinking, investigating, searching for clues—and Astron remained an enigma.
But there was no point in overthinking if he wasn't getting anywhere. He needed to start somewhere, even if it was just through conversation.
Lucas leaned forward slightly, his usual playful smile still in place. If Astron noticed the flicker of curiosity in his gaze, he didn't react.
"You know," Lucas started, "I don't think we've actually talked much before."
Astron didn't respond right away. His violet eyes remained unreadable, as if he were evaluating whether the conversation was worth engaging in. Finally, he gave a small nod. "No. We haven't."
Lucas chuckled. "Yeah, can't say I've ever really had a reason to bother you. You're, uh… not exactly the most approachable person, you know?" He said it casually, as if it were just an observation and not something he had spent days analyzing.
Astron didn't seem fazed by the statement. "I prefer it that way."
Lucas let out a mock sigh, shaking his head in exaggerated disappointment. "Man, and here I thought we could have a friendly little chat. But nope—just an icy wall of indifference." He placed a hand over his heart, feigning deep hurt. "Astron, buddy, you wound me."
Astron simply stared at him, utterly unamused. Then, after a brief pause, he spoke in the same flat tone, "It's better than…"
Lucas immediately caught the implied insult but had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from bursting into laughter. Oh? This guy actually knows how to retort? He twitched his mouth, his grin threatening to break wider. "Better than what, huh?" he pressed, leaning forward slightly, fishing for more reactions.
Astron just continued looking at him, unimpressed and unreadable.
Lucas exhaled through his nose, amused. Alright, fine, I'll let that one go. He folded his arms and tilted his head, deciding to shift the conversation. "Well, since we're already talking, let me ask you something that's been on my mind…" His tone remained casual, almost lazy, but his words were deliberate. "How exactly did you get close to Irina? Close enough to be, you know… like that?"
He emphasized the last part with a knowing smirk, subtly referencing the pictures that had surfaced—ones that depicted Astron and Irina together, looking far more familiar with each other than anyone would have expected. Irina wasn't just any student; she was one of the strongest in their year, someone who carried a certain level of distance from others.
Astron didn't react immediately. His violet eyes remained locked onto Lucas, and for a moment, the air between them grew heavier.
He's trying to gauge my intentions.
Lucas masked his curiosity well, keeping his grin easy and playful. He even shrugged, as if it was all just harmless gossip. "What? I'm just curious," he added, his tone full of innocent mischief. "Irina's not exactly someone who lets people get close to her. So, what's your secret?"
Still, Astron said nothing right away. His gaze remained steady, unyielding, as if he was deciding whether or not Lucas's question was worth answering.
Lucas kept smiling, but inwardly, he was watching closely.
Let's see what you say, Astron.
Lucas didn't break eye contact, but inwardly, he noted every second of silence, every microexpression Astron might have unconsciously given away. After all, each interaction was a data point, another piece of the puzzle.
Finally, Astron looked down at his tablet and answered, his tone as dry as ever. "It sort of happened."
Lucas blinked. "Sort of happened?"
"Yes."
Lucas let out a small laugh, tilting his head. "Is that supposed to be an answer?"
Astron glanced back up, his gaze unreadable. "What did you expect? An analysis of how our relationship evolved?"
Lucas raised an eyebrow. "I expected something more."
A pause. Astron didn't respond immediately, simply staring at Lucas with that same flat expression. Then, after a moment, he looked back down at his tablet and said, "Let's focus on the exercise."
Lucas exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head in amusement. This guy…
He let it go, at least on the surface. But in his mind, he noted something important—Astron had deflected, but not in the usual way. He hadn't brushed it off with indifference; he had chosen not to answer.
And that meant there was something worth hiding.
Or well….it may also be his personal preference. That was also a possibility, but that wasn't that important.
Lucas leaned back in his chair, giving a small, playful shrug. "Alright, alright. I'll drop it… for now." His smirk remained, but inwardly, he was already planning his next move.
Because one way or another, he was going to figure Astron out.
Chapter 847 - Gaze (3)
With the final few presentations wrapped up, Professor Fenwell clapped his hands together, signaling the conclusion of the lesson.
"Well done, everyone. Today's exercise was meant to sharpen your understanding of how artifacts complement combat styles, and I'd say you all did an excellent job. Keep these insights in mind as you progress through your training, because whether you realize it or not, the right artifact might just save your life one day."
He glanced at the clock and gave a satisfied nod. "That's all for this week's lesson. You're dismissed."
The moment those words left his mouth, the room was filled with the sound of chairs scraping back, bags being slung over shoulders, and students chatting animatedly as they took the brief break period before their next class.
And why wouldn't they?
The next lesson was Eleanor's, and it wasn't just another lecture. It was the class where each cadet's mentor would be revealed and the results of the mentorship program would be finalized.
The energy in the room shifted immediately. Excitement buzzed through the air as cadets whispered among themselves, discussing which mentor they hoped to be assigned to.
Irina stretched her arms behind her back, smirking as she heard the enthusiastic discussions happening around her. "Seems like no one's planning on skipping next class."
Jasmine chuckled. "Of course not. It's the most important one yet."
Meanwhile, at Astron and Lucas's table, Lucas exhaled dramatically, leaning back in his chair. "Man, I swear, every time Fenwell talks about artifacts, I end up wanting to buy one, but then I remember that my budget's about as generous as a rock."
Astron, still looking at his tablet, didn't respond.
Lucas glanced sideways at him and smirked. "What, no response? You're usually all about giving pragmatic advice."
Before Astron could say anything, a blur of movement interrupted them.
With zero hesitation, Julia practically jumped onto their side of the table, grinning like she had been waiting for this moment all class. She dropped into the seat beside Lucas and Astron, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in her blue eyes.
"Well, well, well. Look at you two, sitting here all serious," she teased, resting her chin in her hands. "So, how does it feel, Astron? Sitting next to the academy's most charming rogue?"
Lucas shot Julia a flat look, rolling his eyes as he crossed his arms. "Who are you calling clown ass?" he muttered, though there was no real heat in his words. "You show up out of nowhere like a menace, and I'm the clown?"
Julia smirked, propping her elbows on the table. "Obviously. You're way too easy to mess with. That's practically a clown requirement."
Lucas scoffed. "Oh, please. You're just mad because I'm funnier than you."
"That's funny coming from someone whose jokes have the shelf life of expired milk."
Astron, who had been steadily scrolling through his tablet, didn't so much as look up. Julia, catching this, immediately turned her attention to him, tapping a finger against the table in front of him. "And you, Mister Cool, are way too quiet. What's wrong? Cat got your tongue? Or are you just pretending I don't exist?"
Astron, as expected, didn't react beyond a small, almost imperceptible sigh. His eyes remained fixed on the screen, his expression unreadable.
Julia's grin widened, sensing a challenge. "You know, Astron, the more you ignore me, the more it makes me want to annoy you."
Still nothing.
Lucas, smirking now, leaned in. "Give it up, Julia. If silence was a sport, this guy would be the undefeated champion."
"Oh, I know," Julia said dramatically, throwing up her hands. "But that just means I need to up my game."
Before she could get another jab in, another voice joined the fray.
"Are you two seriously harassing him this early in the day?" Ethan strode up to the table, shaking his head in mild amusement as he pulled up a chair beside them. "I could hear you bickering from across the room."
Julia grinned. "That just means we're doing it right."
"Doing what right?" Lilia's voice cut in as she approached, her usual sharp gaze scanning the table before resting briefly on Astron. For a fraction of a second, her emerald eyes narrowed ever so slightly, something unreadable flickering across her face. It wasn't overt, but the tension in her posture was enough to be noticeable.
Astron, still unreadable as ever, didn't acknowledge it.
Julia, however, did notice the subtle shift, and if she hadn't been so fixated on trying to get a reaction from Astron, she probably would have commented on it. Instead, she leaned back, stretching. "We're just making sure our dear Astron here doesn't drown in his own silence. Very noble work, really."
Lilia exhaled through her nose, unimpressed. "And how's that going for you?"
"Oh, terribly," Julia admitted with a dramatic sigh. "But it's not about the result. It's about the effort."
Lucas snorted. "That's one way to justify failure."
Before Julia could fire back, the last addition to the group finally arrived.
Irina, walking at her usual unhurried pace, caught the tail end of the conversation as she approached. She took in the scene—Julia poking at Astron, Lucas watching with amused detachment, Ethan leaning back as if he had seen this all before, and Lilia, whose expression had hardened just slightly.
Her sharp yellow eyes flickered between Astron and Lilia for the briefest moment. The silence that passed between them wasn't long, but it was there—something subtle, something off.
Irina's gaze sharpened.
"Hm…?" she hummed quietly, the sound more of an observation than a question. But she didn't press further.
Instead, she took a seat beside Astron, resting her chin on her hand. "So, what's all this about?"
Julia perked up instantly. "Oh, you know, just seeing if Astron is actually capable of casual conversation."
Irina smirked faintly. "And?"
Julia sighed. "It's a losing battle."
Irina chuckled. "Took you this long to figure that out?"
Julia huffed. "Hey, I like a challenge."
Irina tilted her head slightly, her sharp yellow eyes studying Astron's ever-neutral expression. "What are you reading?" she asked, her tone casual but genuinely curious.
Astron, for the first time since the conversation began, raised his head slightly. His sharp purple eyes met hers before he shifted his tablet just enough for her to see the title.
Fundamentals of Mana Disruption and Skill Cancellation: A Modern Approach to Combat Countermeasures.
Irina's eyebrows lifted. "Mana disruption and skill cancellation?" she mused, leaning forward slightly. "That's not exactly light reading."
Astron finally spoke, his voice calm and even. "It's relevant."
Irina smirked. "I guess it would be. Countering skills in live combat situations isn't something most people focus on unless they have to."
Astron gave a small nod. "Understanding the mechanics makes counterplay easier."
Irina's eyes flickered with intrigue. "That depends. Are you focusing on passive disruptions, or are you looking into active countercasting?"
Astron's gaze remained steady. "Both. The book covers field applications for individual casters and group coordination."
Hearing that, Irina leaned back, crossing her arms. "I see… Then does it discuss conditional feedback loops in mana dispersal? Because from what I've read, countering mid-tier spells efficiently relies more on the caster's adaptability rather than a set formula."
Astron gave another small nod. "It does. The author argues that successful cancellations depend on both precise timing and the ability to read the opponent's mana signature. There's a chapter dedicated to case studies of counterspell failures due to rigid execution."
For a moment, the background noise of the classroom faded as the two continued their conversation. Irina, genuinely intrigued, pressed further, and Astron, to everyone's mild surprise, continued answering without hesitation. Their discussion shifted between theories, real-world applications, and personal experiences with spell disruption—each speaking with a calm confidence that suggested neither was treating this as just idle talk.
Across the table, Julia and Lilia had stopped their own conversation entirely, their eyes narrowing in sync as they observed the exchange.
"Heeeeh…." Julia let out a slow, exaggerated breath, leaning her chin on her palm, her blue eyes glinting with something between amusement and curiosity.
Lilia, more subtle but no less interested, simply raised an eyebrow.
Irina, mid-sentence, caught their looks and immediately frowned. "What?"
Julia grinned. "Nothing~" she sang, drawing out the word. "It's just funny that he actually answered your question."
Irina blinked, her gaze flickering to Astron for a fraction of a second before returning to Julia, but it was a bit late.
Julia's grin widened. "Only yours…."
Chapter 848 - Gaze (4)
"Only yours…."
Julia's grin widened.
"This guy ignores the questions or others most of the time and doesn't let other people enter his personal space. But he doesn't do that with you? I guess those pictures were there for a reason."
Irina's cheeks flushed the faintest shade of pink, her expression stiffening at Julia's pointed words. "It's because you guys are always messing around with nonsense," she retorted quickly, her voice sharper than necessary.
"Eeeeh? Really?" Julia drawled, her grin only widening at the rare sight of Irina's slight fluster.
Before Irina could shut down the conversation further, Julia smirked and smoothly stood up from her chair, striding over to Astron's desk with all the confidence of a predator closing in on prey. She propped herself up onto the edge of the desk, legs swinging slightly as she tilted her head at Astron with exaggerated curiosity.
"Then, Mister Cool, would you mind if I joined the discussion?" she asked, feigning innocence.
Astron, who had already predicted this outcome, barely spared her a glance. He simply rolled his eyes, adjusting his tablet. "Everyone here knows you don't like theory. Don't take me for a fool."
Julia placed a hand on her chest in mock offense. "Wow. Harsh."
"It's not harsh. It's the truth," Astron said plainly. "I know you. You avoid theory like the plague."
Julia huffed. "So what? Just because I don't like something doesn't mean I—"
"Just because you don't like something, doesn't mean you can't do it, indeed," Astron interrupted, his voice as even as ever. "But knowing you, you will definitely not do something you don't like."
Julia froze, her mouth slightly open as if she had been about to continue her argument—but then she closed it.
From across the table, Ethan chuckled, shaking his head. "He figured you out."
Lilia smirked slightly, watching Julia's expression shift between denial and reluctant acknowledgment.
"Admit it," Ethan added, clearly enjoying this moment. "You got cooked."
Julia groaned, dragging a hand down her face dramatically. "I did…"
Lilia chuckled, leaning back in her chair. "That might be the first time I've seen you get outmaneuvered in an argument."
Irina, now fully composed again, let out a small scoff, crossing her arms. "Told you it was nonsense."
Julia, still pouting in defeat, glanced at Astron with narrowed eyes before sighing in exaggerated frustration. "Fine, fine. Mister Cool wins this round."
Astron, of course, remained entirely indifferent to his supposed victory, already shifting his attention back to his reading.
Irina, watching all of this, exhaled quietly. But despite herself, she found it slightly amusing. She had known Astron for a while now, but even she hadn't expected him to shut Julia down so thoroughly.
Julia slid off Astron's desk with a dramatic sigh. "You know, Astron, for someone who ignores people most of the time, you sure don't hesitate when it comes to making very specific observations."
Astron didn't even look up. "I only state what is obvious."
Julia shot a glance toward Irina, her smirk making a slow return. "Ohhh, I bet you do."
Irina immediately tensed. "What now?"
Julia only winked before stretching her arms behind her head. "Nothing, nothing~ Just making a note for later."
Irina narrowed her eyes in suspicion, but Julia merely hummed, already moving to her next train of thought.
Meanwhile, Ethan and Lilia exchanged a glance before shaking their heads in amusement. This group never changed.
The conversation gradually shifted as the group settled back into a more relaxed rhythm. Julia, having recovered from her minor defeat, swung her legs idly as she leaned back against Astron's desk.
"So, any bets on who's getting which mentor?" she asked, her voice dripping with curiosity. "I mean, let's be honest, this whole mentorship program is probably rigged for the top-ranked cadets to get the strongest hunters."
Ethan shrugged. "Not necessarily. I heard they try to match students based on their skills and potential rather than just ranking."
Lilia tapped her fingers on the table thoughtfully. "Yeah, but let's be real. If someone like Victor Blackthorn doesn't get a high-profile mentor, I'll be shocked."
Irina leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. "It depends on the mentor too. Some of them might prefer to train someone with raw potential rather than someone already expected to be at the top."
Julia smirked. "So, what, are you expecting a 'mystery underdog mentor' situation? Because that would be fun to watch."
Lucas exhaled, rubbing the back of his head. "I just hope I don't end up with someone who's going to make my life hell."
Julia shot him a mischievous grin. "Lucas, every mentor is going to make your life hell. That's the whole point."
Lucas groaned. "Yeah, yeah, but there's a difference between training and torture. Some of these pro hunters are psychopaths."
Ethan nodded. "True. Some of them have reputations for being relentless. Remember last year? Some poor guy got assigned to an ex-military hunter who made him run ten kilometers every morning before training even started."
"Could be worse," Julia mused, glancing toward Irina with a teasing look. "You could end up with her mom."
Irina shot her a glare, her golden eyes narrowing. "My mother doesn't take students."
Julia laughed. "Yeah, yeah, but if she did? You'd probably be the only one walking out alive."
Irina rolled her eyes. "I'm not even entertaining that thought."
Irina, watching the group bicker, was about to add something when the classroom's atmosphere suddenly changed.
The lighthearted chatter faded into murmurs as the sharp click of heels echoed from the hallway.
A familiar presence approached.
In perfect timing, the door swung open.
Professor Eleanor stepped into the room, her sharp gaze sweeping across the students like a cold gust of wind. She carried her usual air of quiet authority, her posture rigid yet elegant as she moved toward the front of the class.
The room immediately fell into silence.
"Good," Eleanor said simply, her crisp voice cutting through the air. "At least you all know when to shut up."
Julia muttered something under her breath, earning a quick elbow jab from Ethan.
Eleanor placed her tablet on the podium and let the silence linger for a moment before speaking again. "Today's lesson is not just another lecture. As you all know, this session will finalize your mentorship assignments. These placements have been carefully considered based on your performance, skills, and potential."
She met the eyes of several students, her expression unreadable. "Some of you may find yourselves surprised by your assignments. Others may feel dissatisfied. Regardless of your personal feelings, these placements are final. Your mentors have been chosen because they see something in you—whether you recognize it or not."
A quiet tension settled over the room as students exchanged glances, anticipation thick in the air.
Eleanor glanced down at her tablet. "Now then. Let's start our lesson."
Eleanor's cold, calculating gaze swept over the classroom, ensuring that every cadet was paying full attention. No one dared to even whisper.
"For starters of our lecture today," she started, her tone sharp and precise, "let me remind you that artifacts, formations, and tactics can only take you so far. A hunter's true strength is not dictated by tools but by their ability to adapt and survive."
She tapped a command on her tablet, and the large holo-display at the front of the room flickered to life. A glowing diagram of combat stances and movement sequences appeared. The lesson shifted swiftly into analyzing real battle formations—covering positional play, coordination, and practical reinforcement techniques that most of the mentors in the program would expect their cadets to already understand.
For the next hour and a half, Eleanor's lecture demanded absolute focus.
Despite the anticipation buzzing beneath the surface, the cadets hung onto every word.
She broke down team coordination scenarios, pointing out common errors in engagements, then shifted into advanced defensive techniques that complemented mentor-specific training styles. It was exhausting but valuable, with even Julia—who usually groaned about long lectures—actually taking notes.
*****
The tension in the air shifted as the class neared its final moments.
Eleanor finally stopped speaking and tapped on her tablet once more.
A single notification rang out across every cadet's device.
Mentorship Assignments Finalized.
The class went dead silent as students hastily unlocked their portals to check their results.
Eleanor stepped back, folding her arms as she scanned the room. Her expression was unreadable, her stance firm. She was waiting.
Waiting to see if there would be complaints.
All around the classroom, murmurs erupted.
Julia, who had been watching her screen with sharp curiosity, suddenly let out a loud whistle.
"Hoooh! Well, would you look at that!"
She tilted her screen toward Ethan, smirking. "Guess who got your aunt?"
She will say this while looking towards Ethan.
Ethan glanced at her screen, eyebrows raising slightly. "Guess you won your bet."
Julia grinned victoriously, but across from her, Lilia calmly scrolled through her own results.
"Selena Vayl," she murmured, nodding slightly. "Expected, but I won't complain."
Ethan, of course, already knew his fate.
Mentee: Ethan Hartley
Mentor: Eleanor White
He sighed quietly, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
Lucas chuckled beside him. "Still feeling lucky?"
Ethan shot him a look. "Not one bit."
Silence.
Julia, who had been leaning back casually, suddenly perked up, grinning like a wolf.
"Ohhhh," she hummed. "You two really are stuck together."
It was directed both to Astron and to Ethan…