CHAPTER 307: TRAINING (3)

She didn’t raise her voice when she spoke. She never had to.

"Second Years," Morgana began, her gaze sweeping over them. "Today marks the beginning of your field evaluations."

A faint ripple of sound passed through the crowd, quiet excitement, a thread of nervousness.

Morgana continued, "Until now, your trials have been contained. Simulations. Controlled battles. Predictable scenarios. That ends today. The world outside these walls does not follow our rules, and if you are to carry the academy’s name, you will learn to stand within it."

Merlin watched her closely. She wasn’t reading off a script. She was warning them.

"Each assigned squad," she said, "will be dispatched to a different region. You will investigate, assess, and neutralize threats within your capability range. Instructors will observe remotely, but will not interfere unless necessary."

Her gaze flicked toward Merlin’s group. For the briefest second, her eyes locked with his, unreadable, but heavy with something almost like unspoken trust.

"Division 2-A."

Merlin straightened.

"Your objective: the northern ruins of Kelros. You will travel by carriage immediately after briefing. Report back in seventy-two hours."

A faint murmur spread through the others. Kelros. An abandoned mining city, once rich with mana deposits, now long since sealed after strange disappearances decades ago.

Nathan let out a low whistle. "Seventy-two hours? That’s... a long weekend."

Morgana ignored him, her tone cool and clipped. "Your team will consist of five."

She gestured to the assembled group.

"Elara Vaelith. Nathaniel Varen. Merlin Everhart."

The expected trio.

Then, two more figures stepped forward.

"Rhea Solen," Morgana continued. "And Cael Irwyn."

Merlin’s brow furrowed slightly as he turned to study them.

Rhea was tall and slender, with copper hair braided close against her neck and eyes like polished amber. Her uniform sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, faint scorch marks visible along her forearms, a telltale sign of fire affinity. She nodded politely when Morgana said her name, her expression calm but confident.

Cael, on the other hand, looked... ordinary. Brown hair, quiet face, his uniform pristine to the point of caution. He gave a curt nod, not looking at anyone directly.

Elara glanced at Merlin, her voice low. "Do you know them?"

Merlin shook his head. "New transfers, maybe."

Nathan whispered from the side, "Or bait."

Elara elbowed him sharply.

Morgana continued, "Each of you will carry a communication crystal and an emergency recall token. You are to engage if necessary, but prioritize information gathering. You will report to Instructor Reinhardt upon return."

Reinhardt Vale, the Swordmaster himself. That was rare.

"Dismissed."

And just like that, the crowd dispersed into motion.

By the time their carriage rattled out of the academy gates, the sun had climbed halfway up the horizon.

The five of them sat in silence at first, the rhythmic creak of wood and the low hum of mana from the enchanted wheels filling the quiet.

Nathan was the first to speak, as usual. "So, Kelros. Anyone else remember that place from history lectures?"

Rhea raised an eyebrow. "You actually listen during lectures?"

"Sometimes," Nathan said defensively. "Mostly when Morgana teaches."

Merlin looked out the window, his eyes distant. He knew Kelros. In the novel, it had been the setting for a minor arc, the first real mission where the protagonist’s squad faced a corrupted core. Dangerous, but not catastrophic.

’So this is where it starts,’ he thought.

Elara’s voice broke through his thoughts. "You seem quiet."

"Thinking."

"About the mission?"

"About how much of it will go wrong."

Nathan sighed. "You really know how to comfort people, don’t you?"

Merlin gave a small, humorless smile. "Just realistic."

Rhea leaned forward slightly. "Do you always talk like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you’ve seen the ending of everything."

Merlin’s gaze flicked toward her. For a second, her words hit too close to truth.

"...Bad habit," he said finally.

Cael, silent until now, finally spoke. His voice was low but sharp. "If we’re working together, we’ll need more than cynicism."

Elara nodded faintly. "Agreed. We’ll assess on-site first. Merlin can handle recon; his space affinity will make it easier to map out terrain. Rhea, you’ll handle defensive support if the area’s unstable. Nathan—"

"I’ll keep the atmosphere light?"

Elara gave him a long look.

"Fine," Nathan muttered. "I’ll cover our flanks."

Cael spoke again. "And me?"

Elara looked at him. "What’s your affinity?"

"...Wind."

"Then you’ll coordinate with Merlin. We’ll need vision."

Cael nodded once, quiet again.

Merlin leaned back against the seat, golden eyes half-lidded. "Sounds solid."

"Assuming," Nathan said lightly, "we don’t run into something nasty."

Rhea smiled faintly. "We always do."

Hours later, the carriage came to a slow stop.

The air outside was colder here, sharper, the highland wind carrying dust and faint traces of mana.

Kelros stretched before them in broken spires and collapsed stone. Once, it had been a thriving city of miners and artificers, the air thick with mana flow. Now, it was a graveyard of gray and silence.

Elara stepped out first, scanning the perimeter. "The air feels wrong."

Rhea crouched, brushing a finger over the ground. "Residual fire damage. Not recent."

Nathan’s tone turned cautious. "No guards. No wildlife. That’s never a good sign."

Merlin’s eyes narrowed. He could feel it, the faint hum beneath the earth. Not just mana. Something older. Deeper.

’This is it,’ he thought. ’The corrupted core.’

He glanced at the others. "Let’s set up a perimeter. No one goes alone."

Elara nodded. "We start north. Rhea, Cael, south. Nathan and I’ll take west. Merlin, east. Keep visual contact through comm-crystals."

"Got it," Rhea said.

Cael only nodded.

As the group split, the sky dimmed slightly, a shadow crawling across the clouds.

Merlin moved through the ruins quietly, his boots crunching faintly against debris. The air here was heavier, saturated with residual magic. He closed his eyes, extending his sense, lightning sparking faintly around his fingertips.

’There,’ he thought. ’Deep underground.’

A pulse of corrupted mana. Weak, but unmistakable.

Before he could signal Elara, his comm-crystal flickered.

Nathan’s voice came through, strained.

"Uh, guys? You might wanna hurry."

Merlin froze. "Nathan, what happened?"

A beat of silence. Then—

"...Something’s moving."

The crystal crackled.

Then went dead.

Merlin’s golden eyes flared, lightning igniting along his arms.

’So it begins.’

He turned toward the western quadrant and broke into a run, the ruins flashing by in a blur of gray and dust.