"I will be taking away your Archon’s badge that day."
"I am not saying this as Professor Bloodrose, but as Major Bloodrose."
Professor Bloodrose’s eyes were fixed on William as if she were pressing an invisible blade against his neck.
He frowned slightly. There was sothing personal in her tone, not overt hostility but a kind of challenge, like as if he had hurt her ego in so way.
He replayed his mories quickly and could not recall any direct confrontation with her. He had not disrespected her in class, nor undermined her authority openly.
[Well, you offended many during your Archon’s speech; maybe she is one of them.]
William’s brows lifted faintly.
That possibility was not far-fetched. His speech had been provocative by design.
He had called everyone chickens and had challenged the complacency of the whole system and dismissed the illusion of safety that many in the academy preferred to preserve.
If Bloodrose had been among those who felt targeted, it would explain her stance.
More importantly, if she had made such a statent in class, then it ant one thing.
They were preparing to put him in a leadership position during missions. He leaned back slightly in his chair and exhaled slowly.
He did not mind, to be honest.
In fact, a part of him welcod it. Being deployed against demons and cultists was exactly what he wanted.
The new curriculum, the military camp, and the rging of classes all indicated that things were going to get serious. He had grown tired of theory classes anyway.
The only complication would be his teammates.
They would slow him down in so ways; they would require being coordinated at all tis.
Reckless decisions that endangered only himself would now carry consequences for others, and that was the real constraint.
Because just like the academy, even William did not want his classmates to die, and not because he was a saint, but because these kids were future assets, and he did not want them to die recklessly.
Potential commanders, specialists, craftsn, and strategists. Dead children could not contribute to the wars ahead. He had no interest in watching them fall due to incompetence or mismanagent.
He looked at Bloodrose and chose not to say anything. Seeing no response, Bloodrose continued with other instructions.
She held his eyes for a few seconds before shifting her attention back to the rest of the class. Instructions continued.
***
Sowhere in no man’s land...
A cloaked figure stood beneath a twisted, dried skeletal tree whose branches were curled like claws against the sky.
He waited for soone to arrive, and after a few minutes the sound of dry leaves crunching sounded.
Another hooded figure approached cautiously from a distance. When he stopped several steps away, he removed his hood, revealing the features of a dragon-kin.
"Why have you called again, Barash?" he demanded with irritation. "I have already told you that the situation outside is tight. I cannot afford to purchase any more poison from you."
Barash, still hooded, let out a low breath.
"I did not call you here to sell poison."
"Then what?" the dragon-kin asked, his impatience rising.
Barash lowered his hood.
"I want you to switch your loyalty and co under my lord’s wing."
The dragon-kin’s eyes widened. "Have you gone mad? Why would I have a death wish? And besides, Demon Lord Clayman does not suit my taste."
"I am not speaking about Clayman," Barash said calmly.
"Then what do you an?" Confusion overtook irritation.
"I have changed, my lord. I now serve the Eternal Sovereign."
The dragon-kin stared at him as if wondering whether he had lost his mind.
"Eternal what? Barash, have you truly gone insane?"
Barash’s voice remained steady. "No. But it would be wiser if you knelt and accepted becoming my lord’s slave."
The dragon-kin burst into loud laughter.
"Hahaha! Have you ingested so strange dicine? What is the Clayman cult feeding you these days?"
He was about to continue mocking when he suddenly sensed sothing.
A subtle shift in the environnt and mana around him.
He turned abruptly only to see several cloaked figures had surrounded him from all directions.
"You leave no choice," Barash said.
The dragon-kin’s amusent vanished instantly. "What the hell..."
Barash did not bother explaining further.
He had repeated this sa conversation dozens of tis in recent days. He had grown tired of trying to use persuasion. Words rarely worked on cultists who were entrenched in fear and hierarchy.
Barash nodded, looking at the others.
The surrounding figures, all forr cult mbers who were now bound under William’s slave mark, lunged forward simultaneously.
Pain worked better where words failed.
A few miles away, Ronin conducted similar operations.
He too had grown weary of repeated explanations, so he just accepted Barash’s way of doing things.
Every new slave that joined them accelerated the process. Each newly marked person contributed to capturing and subduing others. Their montum had begun to compound now.
Tens had already been inducted in a few hours, which contrasted with how much ti Barash and Ronin had spent enslaving the first individual.
William’s slave network was expanding like anything.
***
Back at the academy, Arwen and the third-year group had returned to the academy from their group mission.
They had learned about their own revised curriculum. The atmosphere among upperclassn buzzed with speculation and anticipation.
Arwen, however, barely joined the conversation. His thoughts had remained fixed on one person.
That was William.
He entered the cafeteria together with his aides. Conversations were rampant in the hall since it was break ti. Students gathered around round tables with trays filled with food in hand.
An elven guy at Arwen’s side pointed discreetly at William. "That’s him."
Arwen nodded; he didn’t need to be told. As the archon who gave the infamous speech, everyone was aware of how he looked.
William sat with his group, engaged in discussion about the upcoming military camp. He ate calmly and looked up from ti to ti.
Arwen approached him in short strides. Those around William sensed the shift in atmosphere; his killing intent was not subtle at all.
William turned his head to look at the approaching figure.
Their eyes t.
Arwen stopped directly in front of him.
"Stand up. Let us have a duel," Arwen said in a voice edged with authority.
William took another bite of his al.
"Nah, not interested."
Arwen’s jaw tightened. "Tsk, are you scared?"
"Not in the mood to swat flies," William replied without looking up.
"Do you know who I am?" Arwen demanded.
William raised his gaze briefly. "Exactly. Who are you?"
"I am Seraphine’s future husband," Arwen declared. "She has been betrothed to ."
Shock rippled in everyone’s mind who heard him. Several elves nearby stiffened. No official announcent of such a betrothal had circulated, which ant that Arwen was making things up.
William’s expression did not change.
"Why should I believe you? Seraphine is going to marry anyways. You sound delusional."
William said plainly he did not get angry; he had full trust in Seraphine. He knew she would never let herself be betrothed to anyone else.
Arwen’s eyes darkened.
"The only way to stop the marriage is to challenge under the World Tree’s trial for her hand. Let us settle it now and save trouble later."
"Nah," William replied again. "I do not believe your lies. I have no reason to fight you for your entertainnt. You may leave."
Arwen’s face twisted; anger boiled beneath his composed face.
A sinister smile ford slowly across his lips as a thought flashed in his mind.
"Speaking of entertainnt," he said casually, "I wonder how entertaining she is in bed. You must know, right?"
[I wonder how much academy points do they charge as penalty for killing soone??]
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