A silence fell over the table. A lot of teachers were absent today. Too many to be a coincidence.

Brandon leaned in. “Axel… what exactly happened last night?”

Axel told them everything he saw—about the leaping shadows, and the direction they were heading.

“The principal’s office?” Brandon repeated, frowning. Then Marcus walked over, balancing a tray in one hand, his trademark bamboo sword strapped to his back as always.

“What’s with the gloomy faces? What are we whispering about?”

He dropped into the seat beside Axel and glanced around at the uneasy expressions. Axel quickly filled him in.

Marcus’s brows furrowed. “So it wasn’t just me...”

Axel looked up. “You noticed something too?”

Marcus nodded, chewing his food slowly. “This morning, I was practicing on North Mountain, and I saw the main gate of Shiverstone wide open.”

The teachers had all been dispatched. This wasn’t just the usual annual beast tide.

“A large-scale beast tide?!” someone exclaimed, their face pale. The last one had been ten years ago… and that had nearly wiped out half a city. If the scale was that big, there had to be a Beast King behind it.

“Not necessarily,” someone else countered. “Krythos has top-tier powerhouses. A Beast King wouldn’t dare move that easily.”

“Either way, we should ask the teachers,” another murmured. The mood at the dinner table had turned cold. Axel barely touched his food, unease bubbling in his gut. Could the captain and the others’ radio silence be connected to this?

After dinner, the group made their way to Teacher Varric.

Varric’s expression was tense, brows drawn tight. “You’re all too sharp ,” he sighed. “But it doesn’t matter now. It’ll be made public soon enough…”

He was about to continue when—

BOOM.

The sound ripped through the air—distant, but heavy. The ground seemed to shudder with it.

“Where the hell did that come from?!”

“Was that an explosion?!”

Everyone turned toward the source of the sound: the north gate of Bloodstone Warfare School. For a moment, the entire campus froze. The silence was suffocating.

Then came the rapid rattle of gunfire—sharp, unrelenting.

“Teacher! What’s happening?!” someone cried.

Varric’s voice was grave. “Three days ago, the scouts spotted massive gatherings of mutant beasts moving toward the border. Yesterday, they were less than 150 kilometers from the city wall. And now… war’s broken out.”

He looked around at the students, every one of them wide-eyed.

“All of your teachers are out there now,” he added quietly.

“But... we have thermal weapons, right?”

“They’re only effective against low-level mutants,” Varric said. “For anything above Level 3, we need Awakened fighters.”

“When’s backup arriving?”

Varric shook his head. “There is no backup. Multiple borders are under attack. The beasts are hitting us at Ebonveil Prairie, Western Bridgeport, and even Mirabelle.”

“Mirabelle?!” The name drew gasps.

That was the southwest hinterland—rough terrain, mountains, hard to deploy large forces. Years ago, a containment wall had been built around the Hundred Thousand Mountains. But that area had been quiet for years—until now.

“Teacher Varric, what’s the current status on the front line?”

Varric looked weary, but his tone remained calm. “It’s not the end of the world. Krythos was prepared. For now, just do what you're supposed to—train, study, be ready. You’re not going to the front yet.”

He set his tray down, his voice dropping. “There was a full-scale military mobilization. Heavy weapons were being moved out. Armored units too.”

The group went silent.

“Put that together with what you saw last night,” Marcus continued, turning his gaze toward the northern edge of the campus, “and I think there’s trouble brewing in the north. Something’s going on with the mutant beasts.”

Back in the dorm, Axel explained everything to Annabelle, who sat there stunned. He turned on his laptop. As expected, every news page was lit up with breaking headlines and urgent broadcasts.

“Is this the beginning of real chaos?” he muttered, staring out toward the direction of the distant gunfire.

Then he looked at her. “Annabelle. Time to train.”

He took a long breath. That familiar weight of crisis had returned. She nodded silently.

.......

The fading light of the setting sun cast long shadows over the War Academy’s residential blocks. The panic from earlier had faded into grim resolve. More and more students were back on the training grounds, fists clenched, blades drawn.

Six hours passed. The front line was still a storm of gunfire.

On the northern slope, someone suddenly shouted.

“Look—over there!”

Five military trucks rolled back into view, tires crunching over snow, each one smeared in blood and blackened by battle. Their bodies were riddled with bullet holes.

“They’re full of wounded!” someone gasped.

“I can see—oh god—Teacher Hugo... he’s not moving. Teacher Cassian... his legs are gone!”

A student with long-range vision collapsed to his knees, shaking.

Chaos erupted again.

“I can’t take this anymore—I’m leaving the city!”

“We’re sitting ducks here! Fuck this!”

Axel listened to the shouts, his face like stone. The instructors at Bloodstone were all Level 4 and up. If even they were coming back torn apart... then this beast tide wasn’t just bad.

It was catastrophic.

Just then, the campus announcement blared to life.

“All students, report to the main field immediately!”

Students flooded toward the playground, many of them already geared up—combat uniforms, weapons in hand, their expressions grim.

Dusk had fallen. The northern wind howled through the academy, snowflakes biting at their faces as distant artillery thundered beyond the city walls.

“They’re getting closer,” a handful of teachers emerged from the administration building.

Then, from the rear gate of the school, a military-grade armored vehicle rumbled in. It hissed to a stop, and a middle-aged man in leather boots and a snow-caked combat coat stepped down.

“Dominic...”

“Lincoln,” the man replied, jaw clenched. “It’s bad. We need people.”

Lincoln’s voice dropped. “You want to send students?”

“There are too many mutant beasts. Not enough fighters. We need every hand we can get.”

“I can go,” Lincoln said, stepping forward. “But don’t ask this of them.”

Dominic’s gaze didn’t waver. “You think I want this? We’re stretched too thin. If you say no, I’ll move on. But you and I both know we’re out of options.”

Lincoln hesitated. His throat tightened. He knew the principal had rushed to the front line already—to keep this exact thing from happening. To shield the kids. “Dominic…”

Dominic’s disappointment showed plainly. He had no time for negotiation. If he couldn’t get help here, he’d fall back on conscripts—civilians. Fodder.

Then a voice rang out.

“Let us go.” Brandon stepped forward, straight-backed, his face hard.

“Brandon…”

“We want to go.”

“Teacher, we can’t just stand here while the front burns!”

Dozens of students gathered behind Brandon, pleading with Lincoln to let them fight.

Dominic looked up at the snow-filled sky. The artillery was still roaring.

“Children…” Lincoln muttered, voice cracking. His hands trembled.

Then a loud bark cut through the moment.

“You little shits ready to rebel? It’s not your turn to die yet!”

A rugged man, late thirties, with a thick beard and battle-worn gear, jumped out of a pickup truck.

Behind him, one vehicle after another pulled in. Adults—men and women in their thirties, forties, some older—stepped out silently into the snow.

“Parker?”

Dominic turned to the man, confused. “These are…”

The man stood at attention. “Bloodstone Warfare School. Class of 17. Parker, reporting for duty.”

One by one, voices rose behind him:

“Class of 19, Rhett, reporting.”

“Class of 16!”

“Class of 15!”

Dozens of them.

Lincoln’s eyes burned with tears, eyes scanning the unexpected reinforcements. They were his peers, his equals—or even his seniors.

Parker stepped forward, eyes locked on Lincoln.

“When I heard the war had reached here, I sent the call out. Everyone who could make it came. Twenty-nine of us. We're ready.”

He looked back at the students, then gave them a toothy grin. “Good kids. You didn’t let us down.”

Turning to Dominic, Parker's tone turned sharp again. “We’re more useful than students. Tell us where to go. If you need more people, I’ll get you more.”

Dominic stepped forward and clapped Parker on the shoulder. “Then let’s not waste time. I thank you—on behalf of all of us.”