As soon as the lecture ended, students flooded into the main reception area, where a list of assigned groups had been posted for all to see.
The academy halls buzzed with excitement—students rushed, elbowing past one another, desperate to find out who they'd been paired with. Some sprinted, others hurried along, but not Ares.
He walked at his own pace.
Knowing no one, he had little reason to care who he was grouped with.
The walk was a long one.
As first-year students, their lecture hall was tucked away at the far edge of the academy, a good distance from the main reception.
Along the way, Ares watched students race past him, faces flushed with anticipation—or was it fear?
He wondered as he continued strolling toward the reception area, what difference could a group really make?
The answer struck him almost at once.
In the Wildlands, the weak survived only by clinging to the strong.
Those who rushed weren't excited—they were desperate. Everyone knew how deadly the Wildlands could be, and they all hoped for luck to save them.
"How foolish" Ares thought, watching the students rush.
Soon enough, he stood in front of the announcement board.
He watched as students reacted—some cheered in excitement, others lingered in shock, and a few cried openly in despair.
Ares sighed.
Perhaps it was because he had lived so long already, but to him, they really did seem like nothing more than children.
He narrowed his eyes, studying the board.
****
Group 37
Supervisor: Victor Highseor
Ares
Selene
Lucian
Caelum
Castor
****
"Selene."
He lingered on the name for a moment, trying to remember.
Then it struck him, it was the girl who had shown him the way to the lecture hall.
He continued reading. "Lucian, Caelum, Castor…"
None of the names were familiar. No surprise. After all, he had only just arrived at the academy.
The name of the supervisor, however…
Had he read it somewhere before?
He stood there, lost in thought, pondering why it sounded so familiar, when a voice called out behind him.
"Have you found your group?"
Ares turned to follow the sound.
There stood a familiar girl, bowing slightly in a greeting.
"Alys?"
"The Headmaster sent me to fetch you. I figured I'd find you here," she said, offering a mild smile.
"Headmaster?"
"Yes. He has matters to discuss with you," she replied, turning gracefully and walking down one of the many halls leading away from the reception.
Ares lingered for a moment, wondering what business the Headmaster could possibly have with him.
Noticing him falling behind, Alys paused and turned back. She remained silent—but her gaze was enough.
Snapping out of his thoughts, Ares hurried to catch up to the girl.
Soon enough, the two stood before the familiar entrance to the Headmaster's office.
Alys approached the double doors, her knockles knocked softly at one of the doors.
As if already waiting, the Headmaster swung one door open, a wide grin on his face.
"Ares!" he exclaimed, stepping forward.
"Come in, come in," he said, wrapping an arm around the boy's shoulders and leading him inside.
Alys didn't linger, the moment the Headmaster approached, she was already gone, chasing another task on her busy schedule.
Ares frowned slightly.
"What the hell is going on?"
They sat across from each other. The Headmaster watched him for a long moment before speaking.
"How are you finding the academy? Everyone treating you well?"
Ares nodded.
"Good, good. I'm sure you've heard about the new curriculum?"
"I have."
"Did you have a chance to check your group yet?"
"Yes. Right before Alys found me."
The Headmaster chuckled.
"I do apologize for summoning you so suddenly, but you see, I took my time putting you into the right group."
"Right group?" Ares muttered under his breath, confusion flickering across his face.
"You see, my two sons have joined the academy this year. With the sudden curriculum changes, it wouldn't look good if the Headmaster's sons were exempt from participating…"
"I see," Ares thought. Everything was starting to make a bit more sense now.
"I need someone to ensure the safety of my sons, Caelum and Castor—"
Before he could finish the sentence, Ares cut in.
"Isn't the supervisor a better choice?"
"Victor is already aware. He'll be keeping a closer eye on them. But in the Wildlands…"
The Headmaster's smile faded slightly.
"Things can go south fast."
Silence fell between them. Their eyes locked.
Ares have read about the cruel nature of the Wildlands, understanding very well what the Headmaster meant.
"All I'm asking," the Headmaster continued with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, "is that if you see my sons struggling, you give them a hand."
"And the rest of the group?" Ares asked, voice even.
"You will do as you see fit."
Ares lingered on the words.
Perhaps if his mind were the same age as his body, he might have missed the meaning behind them.
But he knew better.
The Headmaster's true message was clear:
His sons must live, no mattet the cost.
And the rest of the group?
As far as the Headmaster was concerned, they were expendable.