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Chapter 38 - Proof & Punch
🕑 Added 2024-10-18 15:53:49 +0000 UTCIsabela woke up the next day with a pounding headache. She couldn’t go directly to talk to Oliver since no First Battalion student could access the Second Battalion dormitory, but she kept up with all the commotion through the chat. The rumors weren’t confined to the Second Battalion channel—once the conversations started through their gauntlets, the entire Academy knew about it.
Rumors or not, there were small pieces of truth mixed into what was being spread. Two of these “details” surprised Isabela. The first was the ranking Oliver had achieved, and the second was his combat style. Reaching a rank close to the First Battalion’s was tough, but participating in a battle using an Energy Pistol for long-range artillery was even more unusual.
Of course, some officers and rangers trained to become artillerymen or even snipers, but it wasn’t a common strategy for cadets, especially one from the Second Battalion. Precise or high-powered shots consumed a lot of energy, and in a long-field battle, someone with little training would rarely succeed.
Isabela even thought about asking Oliver more questions, but she wasn’t sure how to do so without seeming like she was doubting his version of events. Luckily, she had another option.
In front of the First Battalion building, there was a long lawn where many cadets would rest between classes. It was no different for Isabela. Early in the morning, before heading to the mess hall, she leaned against a large tree that offered plenty of shade, waiting for her target.
It wouldn’t take long. She knew all of her target’s movements by heart. Her target was always hungry, to the point where she woke up very early to be one of the first in the mess hall and enjoy all the treats.
‘Right on time,’ Isabela thought as soon as she spotted her target coming down the staircase in front of the First Battalion.
Quickly, Isabela stood up, dusted off her uniform, and started following. With soft steps close to the wall, she slowly approached. Hoping she wasn’t making any noise, she tried to speed up, getting just a few steps away.
“Astrid! You glutton, what are you doing sneaking out like that?” Isabela shouted.
Startled, Astrid didn’t know where the shout had come from until she saw her friend behind her.
“Damn it! It’s like this every day,” Astrid said, bringing one hand to her chest from the shock. Seeing her friend, she furrowed her brows in complaint.
“Haha! Did you think you’d escape? I’m keeping an eye on that ‘diet,’” Isabela teased, making air quotes with her fingers as she spoke.
The First Battalion mess hall was a trap. There was no limit on how much food you could eat, and it was prepared by renowned chefs. This made it hard for some cadets to control themselves, but the Academy had probably never seen anyone like Astrid. She even set an alarm on her gauntlet to wake up early and enjoy the mess hall's benefits as much as possible.
“I don’t need someone watching over me! I need lots of carbs to endure the training,” Astrid shot a severe look at Isabela, wishing her eyes could shoot lasers. Fortunately, that wasn’t her Boon.
“Relax. I’m not here for that today.” Isabela raised her hands in a gesture of surrender, but her smile remained slightly mocking. Before Astrid could respond, Isabela continued, “Have you been following the group messages and the rumors?”
“Of course, the only thing people are talking about in the First Battalion channel is the incident in my class,” Astrid replied.
“So, explain to me how Oliver improved so quickly. Did he evolve during one of the classes?” Isabela inquired further about the boy.
“Hmm, maybe. But his change doesn’t seem like a level-up. He’s always fought that way. It seems more like he’s learning fast how to use what he’s best at,” Astrid answered, trying to recall her memories of the skirmishes she had with Oliver.
The two girls continued discussing different theories as they approached the mess hall.
The entrance for First Battalion students was completely separate. A long, spiraled wooden staircase led cadets to the second floor. Unlike the first floor, which had long metal tables, the second floor had small wooden tables that seated three to four recruits. The classic decor ensured that even an Heir couldn’t complain.
Astrid had a usual table by the window, allowing her to watch the cadets hurrying in and out of the mess hall and the field in front of it.
Since it was still early, the aroma of food filled the room. Around them, a few groups of students were already having breakfast.
The girls’ eyes lit up as they looked at their plates, especially Astrid’s, who had taken some fluffy pancakes with plenty of syrup. Her mouth was watering. But just as Astrid picked up her fork, a loud noise startled all the cadets.
“POW!”
A few tables away, three boys with shaved heads were arguing. Two of them were standing, pointing at the third.
“You’re a disgrace to the Patriarch! How are we going to report this? And worse, a Nameless idiot ruined the exercise!” One of the boys, a mountain of muscles, raised his voice, yelling at the third. Unfortunately, Isabela didn’t know them, except that they were from House Astor, and she knew better than to get involved with them—Astrid’s warning was still fresh in her mind.
“Fuck you, and fuck you! You weren’t at the exercise, so don’t stick your noses between me and the Patriarch,” the third boy shouted back. Isabela lowered her head, trying to focus on her food, but Astrid was more interested in the argument. After all, she recognized the third boy—Kyle, who was part of her Ranger Weapon Combat class.
“If you two want to keep arguing, stay here. If the Patriarch wants to demonstrate his weapons, I can settle this right now.” Kyle began walking away from the other two, who were clearly still angry. Without looking back or seeing if he was being followed, Kyle put on the black mask that covered his nose and mouth, pressing a few buttons on its surface.
Astrid, facing Kyle, observed the entire conflict. But what caught her attention the most was what Kyle did at the end—the mask released gases over his face, which were then ejected through cables on the side of the equipment. As soon as the boy took a deeper breath, Astrid saw Kyle’s irises change color—from light blue to red.
She had heard of similar products before, but they were used in times of war. It wasn’t something that would be used daily.
“What is he going to do?” Astrid muttered to herself.
Kyle left the mess hall, followed by his companions. Astrid’s curiosity made her want to follow the boys, but her pancake was just too perfect.
‘Maybe another day. No one’s dumb enough to start trouble inside the Academy.’ She thought.
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“We’re going to be late again, Alan!” Oliver complained to his friend.
“I know! I know! It’s just… it’s hard to wake up after yesterday’s training. Cut me some slack,” Alan said, still looking sleepy and rubbing his eyes to wake up. His uniform was still poorly put on and slightly wrinkled.
The two boys were on their way to the mess hall, but the chances of getting the best portions were long gone. No wonder Oliver was fuming.
“Damn it!” Oliver pressed a hand to his forehead as he saw the length of the line.
It seemed like every cadet had decided to go at the same time, with a line winding around the mess hall. The two boys made their way to the end of it.
“This is the last time I wait for you,” Oliver complained again as they walked.
“Someone’s in a bad mood. Look on the bright side…” Alan replied.
“Which would be?” Oliver leaned against the side of the building, waiting for an answer.
“… at least there’s still food?” Alan shrugged.
Oliver took a deep breath, trying to keep the argument from escalating. The two boys chatted for the next few minutes while waiting for the line. But before they could enter the building, Oliver felt something strange.
His arm was trembling, and his gauntlet was slightly vibrating. Without even thinking or performing any command, a screen appeared in front of him.
| Hey!
| Behind you!
Oliver raised an eyebrow but turned and looked over his shoulder. To his surprise, the last thing he saw was a massive arm hitting him square in the face, followed by the sensation of weightlessness as his body flew through the air, crashing into the ground in front of the mess hall.
“Shit!” Oliver shook his head, trying to recover. “What’s going on?”
