The midterm exams at Trinity Academy finally ended. The sound of quills stopped, and the bell echoed through the hall, signaling freedom. Students sighed in relief, some collapsing over their desks, others whispering about their answers.
The proctor gave a brief speech, encouraging everyone for their effort over the past three days. But for me, the words barely reached my ears. I stood up quietly, feeling strangely detached. The world seemed distant, as if the weight of study and exhaustion had dulled my senses.
The seat behind me was empty—Galea Grog was gone. Rumors said he went out for air during the break after the first test and came back with a broken nose, claiming he fell on a rock. But everyone knew better. Someone had shut him up for good.
I left the classroom, uncertain of what to do next. After a month buried in books, my mind was blank. The midterms were over, but the sense of accomplishment didn't come.
Kyle's voice echoed in my head.
[Don't relax yet. The study abroad program begins in May.]
I recalled what the professor said—it was a field mission, something like outdoor training. Students would be dispatched across the continent to assist regions affected by Meteor-related incidents. A mix of practice and volunteer work, funded by the three allied nations that supported the academy.
In short, free education came with duties.
I sighed. Even after exams, there was no real rest.
Then, the word "equipment" triggered a sudden memory. My armor and sword—my precious gear left behind during the Hall Test! I completely forgot them in the chaos of exams.
[You finally remembered.] Kyle's tone was amused.
Ignoring him, I hurried out of the dorm and made my way east, toward the familiar blacksmith shop. The smell of soot and burning metal grew stronger as I approached, and soon, I saw black smoke rising from the chimney.
When I pushed open the door, the sound of hammering stopped. The blacksmith, Mr. Smith, turned and blinked in surprise.
"Why are you so late?" he shouted, his face breaking into a grin.
I gave an awkward smile. "I was busy with exams."
He leaned closer, lowering his voice. "By the way, that Dwarven Blade… you received it from the Allied representative, right? Can I take a look at it later?"
I couldn't exactly tell him the truth, so I lied. "Ah… I didn't receive it. They were just showing it."
He gave me a skeptical look but didn't press further. "Fine, fine. Then, where's the sword I lent you? I'll sharpen it again."
I scratched my neck. "About that… I kind of… lost it."
He blinked, then burst out laughing. "Hahaha! The great Highlander, losing a sword? You really are clumsy."
Relieved, I laughed along. At least he wasn't angry.
"It's fine," he said. "I've repaired your original sword already. It's been ready for a while."
He disappeared into the back and returned with a familiar blade—the sword that had accompanied me since my first mission. I drew it, feeling the weight and balance in my hand. It looked even sharper than before.
"I reforged it with Abnium," Mr. Smith explained proudly. "A little gift. It's stronger now."
Abnium—Kyle explained that it was a magic metal that increased durability and mana flow when combined with others. A rare and expensive material.
I thanked Mr. Smith sincerely. Despite his gruff voice, he was a kind man.
We chatted briefly about the Hall Test, and he laughed again when I mentioned my odd score. "You're full of surprises," he said, shaking his head.
I then asked about armor. "I lost mine too. Could you prepare something light—maybe chainmail?"
He nodded and took my measurements with a tape, jotting them down on a notepad before disappearing into the forge again. The wait stretched, the sound of metal clanging echoing from the back.
While I waited, the door opened. A figure entered—his armor clinking with every step. My tension rose instinctively, but it wasn't Zephyrus. It was my group member, Lanius Halfwing.
His full armor gleamed under the forge's light, his bird-shaped helmet making him look more like a walking statue than a person.
"Uh… hello?" I greeted carefully.
Lanius simply nodded. The silence that followed was painfully awkward.
Just as I was about to give up trying to talk, Mr. Smith returned. "Here you go. Lightweight chainmail, just as you asked."
I thanked him, relieved for the distraction.
Then he noticed Lanius and grinned. "Oh, if it isn't you again! That armor still amazes me. Let me borrow it for a day—"
"Refusal," came the deep metallic voice from the helmet.
Mr. Smith laughed awkwardly but couldn't take his eyes off Lanius's intricate armor. They talked about spare parts—complex names like gears, cylinders, and wires that made my head spin. The cost of that armor must've been insane.
After handing over a list of missing parts, Lanius stood silently, waiting. The blacksmith promised to order what was missing, though it might take a month.
When Mr. Smith went back inside, the silence returned.
Then, suddenly, Lanius stepped closer, his helmet inches from my face. "Help. Need parts. Can't wait."
Kyle's voice translated in my head, though I understood enough on my own.
"You want me to help you get the parts?" I asked.
Lanius nodded firmly. "Affirmation."
And just like that, another troublesome task landed on my lap.
But this time, I couldn't help but grin. Somehow, life at the academy never stayed quiet for long.