March 14th, 2012 — 1:00 PM
Sunken Isle — Class A Command Booth
Perspective: Rose Valentine
The deep brass horn of the Grand Celestine thundered across the water.
1:00 PM. The exam had officially begun.
I pressed both hands against the command console, letting my mana surge into the foundation runes. Outside the stone slit, our Sovereign Citadel Barrier locked into place with a heavy golden chime.
Honestly, I thought, pulling at my collar, for an ancient bunker, this place smells like wet laundry and old clams. A grand imperial princess, commanding from a damp stone box.
I opened my field notebook, picked up a sharpened pencil, and tapped the broadcast rune.
"Sound off," I commanded, keeping my voice calm and regal. "Squads, we have an unmapped island roughly 22 by 16 kilometers. Don't run around blindly. We only care about routes connecting us to Class B and Class C, high ground, and river crossings. Fan formation. Move."
"Unit 1 moving out," Julian replied smoothly. "First the risk, second the cost, third the yield."
"Unit 2 ready," Christian chirped from Booth 2. "Wind is 14 knots from the northwest. Great day for a jog, Princess."
"The lion does not jog," Lucas grunted. "It hunts only the prey."
"You jog where I tell you, Lucas," I answered. "Go."
---
3-Minute Mark
The booth was quiet except for the hum of my golden shield and the scratching of my pencil.
The speaker clicked.
"Julian reporting," his voice came through. "Unit 1 is 300 meters into the south-southeast pines. Basalt slope rises at 10 degrees. Clear of traps."
"Julian also tripped over a wet root," Asier added flatly from the same line. "First the risk. Second the cost. Third the bruised knee."
"It was a tactical stumble to test soil density," Julian replied without missing a beat. "The density is optimal."
We're three minutes in and they're debating soil density, I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Cecily, status?"
"I'm behind Julian," Cecily whispered right into the microphone.
A sharp gasp echoed over the channel as Julian jumped. "Cecily, please! Normal people make footsteps before standing 2 inches from someone's ear!"
"Footsteps reduce stealth by 90%," Cecily murmured blankly. "Western tree line is dead silent. Flank is clear."
At least they're efficient, I thought, sketching the western trees.
---
6-Minute Mark
A loud crack of wind mana blasted through Unit 2's speaker. Lucas had launched himself 50 meters into the air.
"Lucas! Keep your signature—"
"A seagull just tried to bite my face," Lucas interrupted flatly over rushing wind.
I paused, pencil hovering. "A what?"
"A seagull. White feathers, terrible attitude. Clearly has no concept of apex predators." His boots hit the dirt with a thud. "Anyway, a 12-meter-wide river cuts the whole island west to east. Fast current. The main wooden bridge is completely rotted into splinters."
My pencil flew, drawing the river across the center. "Any way across?"
"Stone ford 800 meters south of the wreck," Lucas said. "Slick boulders, single-file crossing. Prime kill-zone."
"Marked," I said, circling the ford. "Do not cross."
"The lion does not get wet for free." Lucas muttered.
If he quotes that lion one more time, I am buying him a scratching post.
---
10-Minute Mark
A sharp chirp sounded on Vyora's channel, followed by a muffled clang.
"Report, Vyora," I called.
"A heat fissure melted my favorite ceramic test probe," Vyora said, deeply offended. "Volcanic soil has no manners."
"Is that a volcano or did someone step on your toys?" Christian teased from Booth 2.
"I can beam 4,000 hertz directly into your avian headset, Finch," Vyora shot back.
"I retract the inquiry and apologize to the rock," Christian said instantly.
"Children, focus," I cut in. "Vyora, the data?"
"Active dormant volcano 7 kilometers north-northeast," Vyora stated cleanly. "Elevation 1,400 meters. The northern slope is sheer obsidian, totally impassable. Heat vents along the base will flag anyone trying to flank us from the north."
Northern border secured. I shaded the dark peak onto the paper.
---
14-Minute Mark
A sharp thwack echoed over Unit 1's line.
"AAAAAAHHHH!!!"
"Beatrice?" I asked. "What was that?"
"A red-striped SNAKE attempted to bite my ankle," Beatrice answered, parchment rustling. "I pinned its head with a flat stone and recorded its coordinates."
Remind me never to submit late paperwork to Beatrice.
"Aside from the reptile," Beatrice continued, "fresh boot prints 1.8 kilometers south-southeast. Three sets, heavy tread, Class B vanguard. Also, a thin column of gray smoke rising 4 kilometers out."
I drew an oval in the south-central clearing. "They're digging in. Victor is building a forward base around the old ruins to control the center. Unit 1, fall back into the tree shadows. Don't engage."
---
18-Minute Mark
Christian chimed in again. "Fog's lifting eastward. Lucas hopped a knoll to peek at Class C."
"What are they doing, Lucas?" I asked.
Lucas sighed heavily. "Hardwood swamp, thick mist. I stared for 10 seconds. Zero smoke, zero mana, zero movement. I think they fell asleep or they're eating moss. Looks like a cemetery."
Poor Elfie, I thought, a swell of big-sister sympathy hitting me. Kaiser got pulled from the roster, and she's probably terrified in that booth alone. I'll send her our safe routes soon.
"Julian, Beatrice, hold that limestone ridge," I ordered. "Watch the river crossing."
"Understood," Julian said. "Beatrice, stop staring at my muscles."
"You're vibrating like a finch, Julian. Be still."
---
Minute 23
I sketched the final southern marsh line and set down my pencil.
On my desk sat a complete tactical map of the island: 22 by 16 kilometers, waterways, crossings, volcano, and Class B's forward zone.
Look at that shading, I thought with smug pride. Papa would approve. Kaiser would probably ask to use it as a napkin, but this is genuine art.
A private blue rune blinked. Asier.
I tapped it. "Asier? Did Beatrice find another snake to interrogate?"
"No," Asier's quiet, flat voice replied. "The line is clear. I was just wondering... is this the most efficient way to do it?"
I raised an eyebrow. "It's the imperial military doctrine. We mapped hostile territory in 23 minutes."
"The military maps known borders," Asier murmured, gazing up at the clouds. "This is an unmapped island. Couldn't it have been done faster from a bird's-eye view?"
I chuckled. "A picture from the sky doesn't give you river depths, thermal vents, or fresh boot prints, Asier. To scan all that from orbit in real time would take dwarvian satellite technology worth billions of gold. Nobody has that in their pocket."
"True," Asier conceded. "I wonder what Class B is doing."
And... what 000981 is doing. Asier thought to himself.
Kaiser is on the ship, I thought warmly. Out of the game.
"I'm sending our safe routes to Elfie now," I told Asier, closing the call.
I switched the console to the Allied Network to message Class C, checking the inbox.
My hand froze.
At the very top sat an unread message.
> FROM: Class C — Base (Elfie)
> TIMESTAMP: 1:02 PM
> SUBJECT: Recon Package
1:02 PM...? Two minutes after the horn?
My finger trembled as I tapped the file.
> "Here, take care! 🍰"
A glowing 3D projection burst above my desk.
My breath stopped.
It was a flawless, millimeter-precise holographic map of the entire 350-square-kilometer island. Every contour, every river depth down to the centimeter, every volcanic vent, every base coordinate—and pulsing yellow dots tracking Class B's location in real time.
Sent at 1:02 PM.
Two minutes.
The pencil slipped from my numb fingers, clattering across the stone floor.
I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe.
Two minutes?! She mapped the whole island in two minutes?!
How?! Kaiser isn't even on the island! What did Elfie do?!
---
1:00 PM
Sunken Isle — Class B Central Command Keep
Perspective: Victor Sterling
The thundering roar of the Grand Celestine's brass horn reached the high stone rafters of the central keep, shaking centuries of dried moss from the ceiling.
1:00 PM.
Unlike Rose Valentine's pristine coastal bunker, Class B's main Soul Anchor sat inside the crumbling courtyard of an ancient mountain citadel. Cracked basalt pillars flanked the iron console, and through the fractured parapet, the entire central valley spread out below us like a green carpet sliced by winding rivers.
As the Soul Anchor, I was barred from stepping beyond the courtyard's warding circle. But a commander doesn't need to swing a sword to dictate the flow of battle.
Beside me, perched precariously on the edge of the rune terminal with her legs swinging through the air, was Ivy Faerydae. Her pastel lavender twin buns bobbed with every bounce, and her crystalline wings fluttered with iridescent light.
"Oh, look at you, Mr. Knight of the Realm," Ivy chimed, grinning as she rested her chin in her hands. "Standing so straight and noble in a dusty ruin! Let me write this down in my mental diary: Day 1, Victor poses heroically for the spiders."
I let out a soft, warm laugh, leaning one hand against the brass console. "The spiders deserve inspiration too, Ivy. Are the channels linked?"
"All green and sparkly!" Ivy beamed, tapping her temple. "Sylvia's strike unit is moving along the southern riverbed, Leif is locked inside Booth 2 chewing his fingernails, and Xeno is currently screaming at his optical monocle because a leaf landed on his sensor."
"Good," I smiled.
Sylvia and I had fundamentally different philosophies on how to conquer this exam. Sylvia believed in concealment and technical dominance—hiding behind Xeno's gadgets and using the rivers to detect intruders.
I believed in active provocation. Why crawl through every bush when you can force the enemy to reveal themselves?
"Time to show them how Class B operates," I said, looking at Ivy. "Deploy the prisms."
"Aye-aye, Captain Handsome!"
Ivy cupped her small hands together. A soft, melodic chime echoed through the courtyard as she released the unique magic gifted to her by her mother, Fairy Sovereign
Sylaphine: Sylaphine's Starlight Prisms.
Six miniature, diamond-like crystals materialized above her palms, glowing with radiant violet light. With a gentle puff of air, Ivy sent them soaring into the sky. They didn't fly like normal spells; they folded into micro-spatial apertures, opening tiny, invisible viewing windows in distant sectors of the island for 3 seconds at a time.
---
5-Minute Mark
Ivy tapped the first glowing prism floating beside her head. The projected image showed the dense eastern hardwood forests near Class C's base.
Suddenly, Ivy's crystalline wings froze mid-flutter. Her violet-pink eyes went round as saucers.
"Uh... Victor?" she squeaked, pointing a trembling finger at the prism. "You might want to see this."
I leaned over her shoulder, my hazel eyes narrowing.
In the floating projection, the trees weren't still. Class C's squads weren't hiding in their booth or setting up defensive wards.
They were already sprinting through the marshes, marching straight toward Class B's outer perimeter in full combat formation.
My heart skipped a beat. "What...?! They're advancing?!"
"Not just advancing!" Ivy gasped, her voice climbing an octave. "They're heading directly toward our valley! Victor, the horn sounded 5 minutes ago! How do they know where our keep is?!"
A cold prickle of unease crawled up my neck.
Volcania was 350 square kilometers of thick forest and jagged mountains. Even with military scouts, pinpointing a hidden base within 5 minutes was structurally impossible.
Did someone leak our coordinates? I thought, my mind racing through our roster. No, that makes no sense. Columbina drew our anchor locations randomly right before deployment!
"Open the second prism," I ordered, keeping my voice steady. "Find their location."
Ivy flicked her wrist, shifting the spatial window toward the northern volcanic slopes.
The image resolved over a bleak landscape of black obsidian crags and smoking sulfur vents. And there, picking his way across a jagged basalt ridge, was Class C's top fighter—Rigel Ravin.
"Wait," Ivy blinked, tilting her head until her twin buns nearly touched her shoulder. "Why is Rigel at the volcano? Isn't their base on the east coast?"
I stared at the screen, utterly baffled. "What could he possibly want with dormant volcanic fissures? Are they searching for an artifact? Trying to trigger a rockslide?"
"Maybe he likes collecting pretty black rocks?" Ivy offered helpfully.
"Not helping, Ivy."
Before I could process the absurdity of Class C's movements, the main combat channel crackled to life with a burst of static, followed by harsh, booming laughter.
"Hey, Gangster!" Belial's rough, mocking voice barked through the speaker. Sylvia's Knights was on the line. "Look up at the clouds above the river! Is that a bird?!"
Sylvia's icy, melodic voice cut in instantly. "Belial, do not clutter my channel with wildlife."
"No, no, no, Lady Somerset, look!" Belial roared with laughter, her spade-tipped tail audibly slapping against a boulder in the background. "That's not a bird! That's a kid! Wait... is that the lion from Class A?!"
I quickly adjusted the viewport of Ivy's central prism, aiming it toward the central river.
High above the pine canopy, Lucas Reindhardt had blasted 50 meters into the sky on a pillar of wind mana. But instead of performing a majestic reconnaissance sweep, he was frantically swatting at a shrieking, aggressive seagull that was dive-bombing his messy brown hair.
"Pfft—!" Ivy clapped both hands over her mouth, her shoulders vibrating with uncontrollable giggles. "The mighty King of Beasts... getting bullied by coastal BIRDS!"
Even I couldn't suppress a wry grin. "At least Class A is struggling with nature."
---
20-Minute Mark
Down in the lowlands, Sylvia's squad was operating like a well-oiled machine.
While Victor and Ivy mapped the macro-layout with fairy prisms, Xeno Feynman was working miracles on the ground.
"River depth at the southern crossing is 0.8 meters!" Xeno's rapid-fire voice rattled through the comms, accompanied by the constant, high-speed calculation chirps of his active monocle.
"Ambient mana ionization indicates heavy basalt minerals in the soil! The canyon pass to our east creates a natural acoustic funnel—perfect for our chokepoint wish! Sylvia, sync your Intel Visor to channel 4; I've overlaid the optimal line of sight!"
"Understood," Sylvia replied, her voice purring with smooth, supreme confidence. "Let the mortals scramble in the mud. The center of this island belongs to us."
By the 25-minute mark, the pieces clicked together.
Ivy's prisms and Zeno's visors merged their data streams into our central terminal. On the stone desk, a glowing blue topographic grid illuminated the room: the northern volcano, the 12-meter-wide river, the collapsed bridge, the narrow stone crossings, and the approach paths from both Class A and Class C.
25 minutes.
It had taken every scrap of Ivy's fairy magic and Zeno's engineering genius, but Class B held a complete map.
I pressed the rune to link Booth 1 directly to Sylvia's field visor.
"Sylvia," I said into the mic. "The map is compiled. We need to sync our defense."
A faint, mocking chuckle came through the receiver. "Oh, Victor... how sweet. Did you finish playing peek-a-boo with your fairy's magic? I already have the entire river corridor mapped on my visor."
"And I suppose Xeno's overpriced sunglasses told you that Class C is currently marching three squads toward your position?" I countered with dry wit.
There was a half-second pause on the line before Sylvia scoffed. "Let them come. A goddess does not flee from peasants. Belial and I are holding the narrow canyon ruins. With our two-player chokepoint wish active, their numbers mean nothing. They will walk right into my trap."
"Sylvia, wait—"
The line went dead as she severed the link.
That arrogant fool, I cursed under my breath, slamming a fist onto the console.
---
Minute 26 — The Canyon Ambush
Down in the rocky canyon near the river, the air suddenly went freezing cold.
Sylvia was stepping through a narrow stone archway when the mist parted.
Two figures stepped out from behind the crumbling pillars, blocking the path entirely.
One was Novenol, the slender elven wind mage from Class C, his green hair whipping in the draft.
The other was completely encased in sleek, featureless grey alloy armor. No crest. No exposed skin. Just cold, polished metal and a silent, terrifying presence.
"Class C," Sylvia sneered, drawing her thin rapier with effortless grace. "How quaint. You brought a tin can to challenge a goddess."
Novenol didn't speak. He raised a hand, firing three razor-sharp spatial wind blades straight at her chest!
Sylvia dodged with fluid, moonlight grace, tapping the frame of her Intel Visor. "Xeno, analyze the armored fighter's mana core. Identify his elemental weakness so I can dismantle him."
Inside Sylvia's visor, the amber display flared—and instantly broke into violent, buzzing red error glyphs.
WARNING: MANA SPECTRUM UNREADABLE.
ERROR: SENSOR REFRACTION DETECTED.
"What?!" Xeno's panicked voice screamed into her earpiece from the rear line. "My visor can't penetrate his armor! It's forged from a dense, non-conductive mana-refracting alloy! The waves are bouncing right off him! Whoever designed that suit knew the exact scanning frequencies of my sensors!"
Before Sylvia could even register the shock, the armored fighter moved.
He didn't cast a spell. He didn't roar. He simply vanished in a burst of blinding speed, appearing directly in front of Sylvia with his gauntlet outstretched!
Sylvia's silver eyes widened. She spun on her heel, preparing to cast a displacement spell to leap backward—
Whoosh!
The armored fighter abruptly sidestepped, retreating three paces out of the narrow archway.
And in that exact split second, another figure dropped from the ruined wall above.
It was Rinsha!
Her fingers danced, weaving hundreds of glowing, razor-sharp mana threads across the archway, sealing Sylvia inside the stone corridor!
They used our own wish against us! Sylvia realized with a jolt of genuine horror.
Class B's wish dictated that only two fighters could occupy a chokepoint at once. By having the armored knight step backward, Rinsha had legally filled the second slot, trapping Sylvia in an inescapable web while Belial was locked out on the other side of the arch!
To make matters worse, a thick, milky illusion fog rolled across the canopy—Class B's third wish triggering at the worst possible moment, blinding Sylvia's vision and muffling all sound!
The glowing threads tightened around Sylvia's limbs, inches from slicing through her flesh.
"Checkmate, Lady Somerset." Rinsha murmured from the fog.
Suddenly, my voice thundered through Sylvia's earpiece like a lightning strike.
"Sylvia! Drop flat into the collapsed drainage culvert at your 8 o'clock!" I yelled through the comms. "Rinsha's primary mooring rune is anchored to the keystone of the upper arch! Slice the left thread—her web will collapse!"
Sylvia didn't hesitate. Trusting my command on pure instinct, she dropped to her stomach, sliding under the descending net into the damp stone trench. Her rapier flashed with silver mana, severing the left mooring thread.
Snap!
The tension failed, and the entire web flew apart like broken harp strings!
Sylvia scrambled out the rear exit of the culvert, tumbling back onto the open riverbank where Belial caught her by the shoulder.
Panting heavily, her silver hair tangled across her pale face, Sylvia tapped her comm with shaking fingers.
"Victor..." she hissed, her voice trembling between fury and sheer shock. "How did you know their exact ambush coordinates?!"
I stood in my central keep, a slow, triumphant smile curling my lips as my hazel eyes reflected the glowing console.
"I told you before the exam began, Sylvia," I said calmly. "I planted a parasite deep inside Class C. I hold their entire playbook."
There was a long, stunned silence on the other end of the line.
For the first time since we had enrolled at Asura Academy, Sylvia let out a genuine, breathless exhale of admiration.
"Well played, Victor," she murmured softly. "A true mastermind move." Then, her sharp, haughty smirk returned. "Though running a spy only proves how desperately you feared losing to me."
"I play to win, Sylvia," I replied smoothly. "Xeno, is the map synced?"
"Synced to all visors at the 25-minute mark!" Xeno confirmed, his fingers flying across his keyboard. "We have the full island loadout! Let's crush them!"
---
Minute 27 — The Second Anchor
Half a kilometer south of our central keep, nestled beside a quiet bend in the river, sat Class B's secondary Soul Anchor: Booth 2.
Inside the cramped stone chamber, Leif Haxen sat alone on a wooden bench.
His floppy canine ears twitched restlessly, and his golden tail was tucked tightly between his legs. As a beastkin hound, Leif hated enclosed spaces, but Sylvia had ordered him to hold the anchor, so he stayed.
His sense of smell and physical tracking were Rank S—the sharpest survival instincts in Class B. His body was tuned to read the air, the wind, and the intent of living things.
Suddenly, every single hair on Leif's arms, neck, and tail stood straight on end.
A cold, suffocating pressure slammed into his chest like a wall of solid ice.
The air didn't smell like pine needles or river water anymore. It smelled like absolute, bottomless void.
Trembling, Leif slowly rose from the bench, creeping toward the narrow horizontal slit in the fortified stone wall.
He peered out into the misty ferns.
50 meters away, standing in the shadow of two ancient cypress trees...
A figure in dark grey alloy armor stood completely motionless.
He wasn't charging. He wasn't drawing a sword. He wasn't chanting a spell.
He was just standing there.
Staring straight into the observation slit of Booth 2.
Beneath the blank metal visor, two invisible, unblinking eyes seemed to bore directly into Leif's soul. The glare was so heavy, so impossibly lethal, that Leif's knees buckled. A primal, suffocating terror clamped down on his throat, choking the air from his lungs.
That thing... Leif thought, cold sweat drenching his collar, his teeth chattering uncontrollably. That thing is not a student. That is not a person. If that thing takes one step... I am dead.
With shaking, clumsy fingers, Leif slammed his hand against the emergency broadcast rune on the wall.
"L-Lady Somerset..." Leif whimpered, his voice cracking into a broken, terrified sob. "S-Someone... someone is watching Booth 2..."
Sylvia's voice cut in, sharp with sudden alarm. "Leif?! What are you talking about?! Did an enemy squad breach the river?"
"No squad..." Leif gasped, tears of raw instinct leaking down his pale cheeks as he backed away from the window, curling into a ball against the back wall. "Just one. In grey armor. He's looking at me... please don't let him come in... please..."
Hearing the sheer, unadulterated terror in her loyal hound's voice, Sylvia froze. "Hold the barrier! Do not step out! Belial, fall back toward Booth 2 immediately!"
Outside in the woods, the armored figure tilted his head very slightly, as if listening to the panic over the comms.
Then, without making a single sound, the grey knight turned on his heel and melted backward into the rolling fog, vanishing as though he had never existed at all.
Inside the central keep, Sylvia and I stared at our displays, the silence between us thick and suffocating.
Class C had only asked for armor during the wish phase. That meant only the strike squad led by Elfina Lunaris possessed that grey alloy.
And whoever was wearing it wasn't just playing the exam.
They were hunting.
---
1:00 PM
Sunken Isle — Class C Eastern Command Booth
Perspective: Elfie
The horn had sounded.
I didn't care.
I sat curled up on the small wooden chair in the center of Booth 1, hugging my knees tightly against my chest. Kai's old red scarf was bundled in my lap, and I buried my face straight into the rough wool, breathing in that faint, comforting scent of machine oil and dried tea leaves.
My eyes stung with hot, miserable tears.
It's not fair, I thought, sniffling into the fabric. It's just not fair.
Why did we even have to do this stupid exam? Why did I have to sit in this cold, damp stone box all by myself while everyone else ran around playing war?
Even if winning was important, I didn't want to win. What was the point of winning if Kai wasn't standing next to me?
If I drew the most brilliant map in the world, who was going to pat my head? Who was going to feed me dried strawberries when my fingers got tired? Who was going to look at me with that calm, lazy smile and tell me I did a good job?
Nobody.
I just want to quit, I pouted, burying my nose deeper into the scarf. I'll just lie down on the floor, pull the scarf over my head, and take a nap until the six hours are over. Let Class A and Class B beat each other up. I don't care.
I was completely, utterly unmotivated. A sad, pathetic little blob of misery.
Then, the command console on the desk began to screech like a dying goose.
SKRRRRRRK.
I lifted my head, wiping my damp cheek on my sleeve.
Our communication frequency was supposed to be a secure, disciplined military channel. Instead, the moment the connection stabilized, it sounded like an entire circus had caught on fire.
"Yo! Why does my helmet smell like boiled cabbage?!" Axel's loud, obnoxious voice thundered through the speaker, rattling the brass casing. "And why the hell is the hobo leading Unit 2?!"
"WUHHHHHHHHHH" Axel breathed in.
"I am not a hobo, Axel!" Rigel's furious voice shouted back from the jungle line. "I am the commander! Stop breathing directly into your microphone, you ape!"
"Shut up, you unclean nectarine!" Leena's shrill voice suddenly cut in from Booth 2, exploding across the network. "Your state ain't got no matchmaking team! Your mama still making you eat them green beans! You look like monkeys swinging from the trees!"
The channel went dead silent.
I froze mid-sniffle, my mouth falling open.
Wait... what did Leena just say?!
Three agonizing seconds ticked by. Even the static seemed confused.
"Leena..." Rigel's voice came back, sounding genuinely terrified, like he was on the verge of tears. "Where... where did you learn that from?!"
"I learned it from Lucas Reindhardt when he was added to our group chat!" Leena declared proudly, not a shred of shame in her tone.
"Why would you learn insults from Lucas Reindhardt?!" Rigel practically shrieked. "He's in Class A! He's our enemy! And he doesn't even make sense!"
"That didn't even rhyme properly," Rinsha's dry, monotone voice chimed in from Unit 2. "Unclean nectarine? Really, Leena? You're a noble elf. If you're going to act tough, roast me. Let's hear it."
"You want a piece of this, Rinsha?!" Leena barked, clearing her throat with immense drama. "Listen here, you two-eyed cabbage! I wasn't born into this world so your fat ahh could choke out low-level insults at me!"
"That's copyright infringement!" Axel screamed, his voice cracking violently. "Lucas literally posted that exact sentence on the groupchat! You're stealing Class A's material!"
"My bad, my bad!" Leena snapped back defensively. "Silence, you uneducated peanut!"
"Oh, that's it!" Axel bellowed. Over the line, I heard the heavy clatter of his alloy gauntlets slapping against his chestplate as he inhaled a massive breath. "You crusty musty wanna-be highlighted bees tanking up the whole crust room! I can't believe I'm in a team of roaches like you! You look like you still got imaginary friends! You look like a voice crack manifested into a person! You have the brain capacity of a crayon's lifelong limit! Your forehead is longer than a Monday morning! You're built like an uneven fraction!"
Clatter. Rustle.
Nobody spoke.
"...Did he just call us an uneven fraction?" Novenol asked softly, sounding deeply concerned for Axel's mental health.
"I am going to stab him," Sophia whispered with cold, demonic murder in her voice. "Before we even see Class B, I am going to plant my dagger directly between his neck."
I dropped my head onto the wooden desk with a dull thud, groaning into Kai's scarf.
Kai, where are you?! I cried internally, clutching my temples.
What kind of exam is this?! Why is my class having an underground rap battle in the middle of a hostile jungle?!
"Elfie!" Rigel suddenly screamed over the open line, total panic bleeding into his tone. "Elfie, what do we do?! What are our orders?! When are we scouting?! What are we even scouting?!"
"I'm currently scouting a family of beetles under my desk," Leena offered helpfully from Booth 2. "The big one is definitely the father. He looks stressed."
"Leena, shut up!" Rigel yelled.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
We were doomed. We were two minutes into the exam, and Class C had already self-destructed without a single enemy in sight.
We had zero hope. Absolutely zero.
Beep.
A quiet, high-priority chime pinged on my private console screen.
A secure transmission request was flashing blue—not on the open class line, but on an encrypted, direct channel.
> SOURCE: Unit 1 — Knight 3 (Encrypted)
I blinked, sniffling as I sat up.
It was the mysterious third student. The one who had answered Kai's cipher and taken his spot on the field.
I pressed the rune, speaking into the receiver with a grumpy, defensive pout. "What do you want? If you're going to rap at me like Axel, I'm turning off the console."
A harsh, robotic buzz hissed through the earpiece. The voice changer was on, making the speaker sound like a broken tin can.
"Anchor One," the metallic voice crackled coldly. "Input your private cipher key into channel 9. We need an isolated link."
"Why should I?" I grumbled, crossing my arms stubbornly. "I don't even know who you are. You stole Kai's armor. I'm not giving my private key to a stranger."
The metallic voice didn't waver.
"Delta-Seven-Seven," the voice said calmly. "Your root partition sequence. Enter it, Elfie."
My eyes widened slightly.
Delta-Seven-Seven? That was the private root sequence I had written in Kai's notebook during our first week of school. Nobody knew that. Not Leena, not Rigel, not even Instructor Aisha.
Biting my lip, my trembling fingers tapped the sequence into the keypad.
Chime.
The open class line muted instantly, locking the two of us inside an isolated, soundproof frequency.
The robotic voice crackled again.
"Are you doing okay?" he asked, his tone still muffled by the electronic filter. "Are you going to lead them finally?"
The grumpy pout returned to my lips with a vengeance.
"No," I muttered, slumping back into my chair and glaring at the blank wall. "I'm not doing anything. I'm not interested in this stupid exam. And I don't want to talk to someone who's hiding behind a voice changer because they're too scared to show their face. Go away."
There was a brief pause on the line.
Then, a faint, mechanical click echoed through the earpiece.
The static vanished. The metallic distortion melted away.
And through the receiver, impossibly close, impossibly warm, that familiar, low, lazy voice whispered straight into my ear:
"Is my princess sad?"
My entire world stopped spinning.
The breath trapped in my throat. My heart gave a violent, deafening thump against my ribs, and my hands flew to the headset, clutching the leather cups against my ears as tears flooded my eyes.
That voice.
Kai.
"Kai...?!" I choked out, a loud, watery gasp bursting past my lips. My fingers squeezed the headset so hard the plastic creaked. "You—you absolute idiot! You're the 3rd knight?!"
"Keep your voice down, silly," Kai chuckled softly over the feed, that familiar, dry warmth wrapping around me like a heavy blanket. "Did you really think I'd let you sit on this island all by yourself?"
"You promised you wouldn't leave me!" I sniffled, furiously wiping my eyes on my sleeve, half-sobbing and half-smiling so hard my cheeks ached. "Then you disappeared on that stupid cryptograph, and everyone on the ship thought you got dumped, and I was all alone in this dumb stone box while Axel was rapping about green beans!"
"Yeah, I heard Axel," Kai laughed, a low, rumbling sound that made my chest flutter. "I almost cut my own helmet audio. But we've got work to do, princess."
"Work?!" I echoed, rubbing my runny nose. "Kai, we don't have scouts! Rigel is terrified, Leena is cataloging beetles under her desk, and Class B is probably already setting up camp!"
"We don't need scouts," Kai replied calmly. "I just pushed a 15-megabyte file to your terminal's local buffer. Run the executable, input your root key, and disconnect the Academy's default API link."
I blinked, sniffling as I leaned over the keyboard.
My fingers tapped the terminal: Execute: Sentinel_Client_v1.html.
A new window bloomed across my screen.
It had a simple, clean layout with dark grey panels and slightly offset borders, complete with a few charming little rendering glitches where text overlapped a button.
"Don't judge the styling too harshly," Kai muttered, sounding faintly self-conscious. "It's my first time writing an interface in HTML format. A little clunky around the edges, but the backend does what it's supposed to."
"Kai... what is this?!" I gasped.
The screen resolved into a breathtaking, razor-sharp optical satellite photograph of the entire island.
Every single mountain ridge, winding river, and forest boundary was rendered in crystalline clarity. There was Booth 1 in the northwest belonging to Class A, Booth 1 in the central mountain keep for Class B, and our own humble base on the eastern shore.
"Where did you get this?!" I squeaked. "Did you hack the Academy's satellites?!"
"I don't need to hack anything," Kai answered casually. "It's just my monthly civilian subscription to Sentinel. A Dwarvian regional orbital satellite. They already keep one tasked over Volcania to monitor volcanic activity and commercial shipping lanes. I just bought the feed before we left the capital."
I stared at the screen, utterly stunned. "You... you bought satellite access?!"
"Engineering alone isn't enough to win, Elfie. You need software and data pipelines too," he said with a quiet smirk. "First order of business: export the 2D optical layer and forward it to Rose Valentine on the Allied frequency."
I tilted my head, surprised. "Send it to Rose? Already?"
"Yeah. Let her cook," Kai said smoothly. "She's probably sitting in her bunker with a ruler and a pencil trying to draw trees. Give our big sister a hand."
I giggled, hitting the export button and typing a quick message:
> "Here, take care! 🍰"
Sent at 1:02 PM. Exactly two minutes into the exam.
"Now switch to the second tab," Kai instructed. "Historical comparison."
I clicked it. The screen showed satellite captures from one month ago overlaid against current scans.
Most of the island matched, but up in the northern volcanic skirt, below the smoking sulfur crags, a strange grid of submerged stone foundations glowed with an anomalous mineral hue beneath the ash.
"Look at that," Kai murmured. "That isn't part of the Academy's obstacle course. That's an ancient ruin buried under the basalt."
"Should someone check it?"
"Send Rigel. His earth-blade affinity is suited for high-density stone."
I switched back to the open squad channel, clearing my throat to sound like a formidable commander. "Rigel! Stop shouting at Axel. Take Unit 2's line and advance north toward the volcanic skirt immediately."
"Wait, what?!" Rigel squawked over the comms. "The volcano?! Elfie, there are active lava vents up there! Why are we going to a volcano?!"
"Because I said so!" I puffed out my cheeks. "Historical satellite scans show ancient structures beneath the ash. Go investigate, commander's orders!"
"Aye, aye..." Rigel grumbled, completely bewildered.
Kai's voice tickled my ear on the private line: "Look at you, bossing people around. Very scary, princess. Now mute their channel before Axel tries to drop another verse. Let's do this privately."
I hit the mute toggle, giggling as the squad's bickering cut out into peaceful silence.
Over the next 10 minutes, Kai walked me through every tab.
Tab 3 was the Thermal & Infrared Layer. Open plains shone bright yellow, light canopy showed distinct amber heat signatures, and dense forest dampened the glow. Right near the central river, three distinct heat signatures were creeping forward—Class B's vanguard!
Suddenly, a milky haze swept over the optical feed as Class B's illusion fog triggered across the island.
"The picture went white!" I gasped. "Their fog wish!"
"Calm down," Kai said softly. "Hit the 4th tab. Radar mode."
I pressed it. Synthetic Aperture Radar. Microwaves pulsed straight through the clouds, ignoring light and fog entirely, painting the physical terrain in crisp, glowing geometric lines.
A stream of complex velocity equations popped up: `v = (P2 - P1) / dt`.
My eyes crossed. "Kai, what is that?! It looks like math homework!"
"Hit the big green button that says 'Simplify,' lazybones," Kai chuckled.
I clicked it. The math instantly translated into plain words: Heading 287 degrees, 7.1 kilometers, projected river intersection in 4 minutes.
"How does your armor even connect to this?!" I asked in awe.
"I built a high-frequency transceiver into the collarplate," Kai explained. "Accessible only through my password. I predicted the Academy would give each booth a networked terminal, so tethering my hardware to their system is completely legal under Wish Protocol."
I paused, tracing the edge of his red scarf on my lap. "Kai... why did you pretend to get swapped out? Why not just fight beside me openly?"
A gentle silence settled on the line before Kai spoke, his voice low, intimate, and impossibly warm:
"Because if I were on the official roster, the whole school would be watching my every move. I don't care about their attention, Elfie. I'd much rather have quiet, private moments like this with my princess."
My face burned so hot I thought my cheeks would steam. I clutched the red scarf tight against my chest, burying my blushing face in it.
K-Kai... he really knows how to say things that make my heart explode!
The software also tracked surface temperature, vegetation moisture, smoke detection, water depth estimations of the river, weather forecasts, and even a Dwarvian magical spectrum sensor. Everything about the island was laid bare before us.
Suddenly, the radar flashed red.
Sylvia's signature was moving into the narrow limestone canyon ruins near the river!
"Kai! Look!" I leaned in, pointing at the screen. "Sylvia is entering the canyon! Novenol and Rinsha are stationed right on the eastern ridge! If Axel cuts through the lower brush, we can pincer her!"
"Sharp eye," Kai praised me, his tone genuinely impressed. "Sylvia won't see it coming. Class B thinks their two-player chokepoint rule protects them. But if we use it from the outside, we can lock her in."
"Should I give the attack order?!"
"Wait," Kai said softly. "Check the secondary thermal dot behind her. Belial is only 100 meters back. If you strike now, Belial can break the flank before Rinsha's threads settle. Let Belial stop at the clearing. Wait until the distance maximizes."
I watched the amber dots, holding my breath.
5 seconds... 10 seconds... Belial stopped to inspect a boulder. The gap widened to 300 meters.
"Now," Kai whispered.
"Now!" I shouted into the strike link. "Novenol, Rinsha, execute ambush formation! Pin Sylvia in the archway!"
Through the live data link, the trap sprang shut with terrifying precision—Novenol's spatial blades, the armored knight stepping in to blind Xeno's visors, and Rinsha's glowing thread net snapping across the keystone!
Kai's voice came through, quiet and conspiratorial: "Keep my identity our little secret, okay?"
"I will!" I beamed, my chest swelling with joy. "Thank you, Kai."
"Just like I promised," Kai murmured.
While monitoring the map, my eyes drifted toward the western coastline.
A solitary thermal signature stood on the rocks near the sea.
Lucas Reindhardt.
I zoomed in with the satellite's high-contrast optical pass.
Lucas was standing alone on the surf, messy brown hair blowing in the wind. In his palm rested the gleaming gold Allied IFF badge from Class A's wish—the badge designed to prevent friendly fire between our classes.
Lucas looked down at the badge with a cold, lazy smirk.
His fist clenched.
Crack.
Between his fingers, the golden badge was crushed into powdered metal, scattering like sea foam into the waves.
The friendly-fire safety lock... was gone.
I gasped softly, my eyes wide as I stared at the satellite interface before looking back at Kai's frequency.
"Kai..." I murmured, resting my chin on my hands. "How much did this satellite access actually cost you?"
Kai let out a faint chuckle. "20 silver coins."
"20 silver?!" I almost fell out of my chair. "You bought an orbital eye in outer space for the price of 3 lunches?!"
"A bargain, right?" Kai teased softly. "After all, you're the supreme commander of Class C, Elfie. And me? I'm just your loyal weapon."
"Pfft! Nah, that doesn't fit you at all," I giggled, kicking my feet against the desk rungs, feeling happier than when the horn sounded.
"You're the Mastermind!"
"You're overpraising me, princess," Kai chuckled warmly.
Through his suit's feed, I could see his grey alloy helmet tilting slightly, his dark visor glaring across the forest toward Class B's distant keep.
"So, my cute commander," Kai whispered, his voice smooth as silk. "What are your next orders?"
"Simple," I smiled, my heart glowing with radiant warmth as I smoothed his red scarf over my lap. "Stay by my side, don't get a single scratch, and remember you owe me a double-tier strawberry cake when we win."
"As you command, my princess."
I leaned back in my chair with a bright, triumphant smile.
I wasn't sad anymore. I wasn't scared of the exam.
Because no matter what Sylvia or Victor had planned... I had Kai.
And together, we were going to win.