Chapter 49: Claws in the Shadows
"I’m happy to have you all here."
The voice was strong—firm without being cold. A woman stood before the class of twenty, tall and broad-shouldered, every inch of her body honed like a weapon. Muscular without being bulky. Toned yet graceful.
She radiated discipline.
This was Asta Rommel, the lead instructor for the first-year Special Class.
The elite.
Most of the students kept their gazes respectful, though a few couldn’t help a glance or two at her sculpted form.
Well—except for one.
"Wow..." Elijah muttered under his breath, eyes trailing up and down without shame.
Leona, seated beside him, smirked. "Want to add her to your collection too, Elijah?"
She spoke low—only loud enough for Elijah and Elizabeth, who sat nearby in silence, to hear.
Elijah blinked. "I mean... she is a teacher, y’know."
Leona rolled her eyes. "So? You’re the Chosen One. You think rules apply to you now?"
He chuckled awkwardly, but said nothing. She wasn’t wrong. Ever since the Academy opened, he’d noticed the way people turned to stare. Dozens of girls. Fawning. Whispers on the Academic Street.
Still... there was someone else getting stares.
Noah.
People had seen the duel. Had seen him win.
Whispers were already growing. Not just about power—but about allegiances. Students were starting to gather behind both of them.
This was no longer just Noah vs Elijah.
It was about to become a battle of factions.
⸻
Asta surveyed her class. Twenty students. Twenty of the highest-ranked new arrivals. Raw potential.
Her sharp gaze passed over them—then paused briefly on Noah.
His silver eyes met hers, neutral, unreadable. Cool. Almost cold.
So that’s him...
She turned to Elijah. Ah. That look.
She recognized it instantly, even when masked. Lust. The boy could pretend all he wanted—she’d seen that kind of hunger too many times to miss it.
The Hero is a slave to his urges? What a waste.
She shook her head and stepped forward.
"You are the elite," she said clearly. "Top of the entrance trials. As such, you are given privileges: advanced dormitories, private training grounds, monthly merit point distributions, full food access, and higher-tier access to the library."
"But don’t let it go to your heads. These privileges aren’t permanent."
Her tone sharpened like a blade. "Any of you can be challenged at any time. If you lose, your spot in this class is forfeit. Whether it’s another elite, or a regular student who wants in—your place must be earned. Constantly."
Some students shifted uncomfortably.
"Elites don’t rest," Asta continued. "And neither will your enemies or rather your concurrents."
She folded her arms. "Now, this academy is full of factions. The two biggest are the Student Council and the Goddess’s Followers. I won’t waste time explaining them—if you’re interested, go to their HQs and pass their entry tests."
"As for creating your own faction? You’ll need followers, logistics, and more. Go do your research. I’m not your babysitter."
She paused.
"The first semester lasts four months. You’ll be tested on knowledge and combat both."
"You will have to clear 5 missions in the mission center of the academy. The missions can be anything and you can do it alone or with groups."
"Not doing the five missions is an automatic fail." ƒreewebɳovel.com
"And for you, if you fail even one mission you will go down."
"So you have 4 months to do these missions."
"The other class will also be able to challenge you for your seat after one month. "
A beat of silence.
"And my class? Hand-to-hand combat."
She turned toward the door.
"Get up. We’re heading to the training field."
"YES! FINALLY!" a voice rang out.
Rouge, of course. Already on her feet, practically vibrating with excitement.
Malrik, the unfortunate soul at her side, groaned. "You just fought like, yesterday..."
Rouge tilted her head at him. "And?"
Malrik exhaled deeply. Why did I think befriending her was a good idea?
Too late now.
He’d signed up for daily battles, apparently.
Asta, watching the two, smiled faintly. She liked Rouge already.
"Let’s move."
...
Meanwhile, Noah hadn’t paid attention to a single word of Asta’s speech.
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