The week passed in a blur.
Each day began with the sharp bark of Sir Brook's orders and ended with aching muscles and a silent shuffle back to the dorms. From formation drills to magic synchronization exercises, the heroes were pushed to their limits. And in between, the castle buzzed with cautious optimism.
Group B, as expected, was working harder than ever. What they lacked in raw talent compared to Group A, they were slowly making up for in cohesion. Even Ronan, usually quiet and detached, had begun to quietly correct people's stances or offer advice when someone struggled.
"Knees in, Logan," he murmured once during a weapons drill. "You're wasting movement."
Logan blinked, surprised, but adjusted. "Thanks."
Drey watched these little moments unfold from the corner of his eye. No one seemed to notice how often Ronan was just... there. Not drawing attention, not boasting. But helpful. Solid. Dependable.
On the fifth night, a buzz of tension lingered in the air long after the training grounds had cleared. Sir Brook had been especially strict that day, forcing the Vanguard trainees to redo their team exercises when even a single formation slipped.
Meanwhile, Aristo had split the mages into rotating pairs, watching closely as they tried to coordinate different elemental styles.
"You call that synergy?" Aristo said, voice calm but cutting. "Try again. And this time, don't fight the mana—let it flow."
Drey, sweaty and sore, collapsed onto the stone steps near the archery range as the sun dipped low.
"This guy never runs out of riddles," Mia muttered, plopping down beside him.
"At least he doesn't yell like Brook," Logan added, dragging himself over.
"Yeah," Drey said, brushing his damp hair from his eyes. "But I think I prefer yelling over being judged silently."
They shared a weak laugh.
Dinner that night was quieter than usual. The noise of clattering plates and exhausted chatter filled the Grand Hall, but there was an undercurrent of anticipation. A hush spread as Archibald entered the hall, pausing before the central platform.
He gave a slight bow, then spoke.
"Tomorrow, you will have your first excursion outside the castle walls."
The hall fell into silence.
"You will be split into three mixed teams," Archibald continued, his voice clear. "Each will be tasked with scouting designated areas just outside the capital perimeter. These areas are known for minor magical disturbances—residual monster activity."
Sir Brook stepped forward. "Think of this as your first real exposure. You may encounter low-level creatures. Dispatch them if you must—but keep it clean, and stay alert."
Everyone nodded.
"Good," Archibald said. "Departure is at dawn. Rest well."
That night, most of the castle slept.
Drey didn't.
The adrenaline from the announcement still coursed through him. Lying in bed felt wrong. Stagnant. He sat up, quietly pulled on a loose tunic and his training pants, and slipped out into the corridor.
The castle was silent save for the distant echo of boots on patrol. The occasional maid passed him, nodding silently.
He made his way back up the hill, the same one where he'd first trained alone under the moonlight. The large tree stood like a sentinel in the dark, its leaves whispering secrets to the wind.
Drey inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, slipping into the rhythm of his breathing technique. His skin tingled as the cool night air wrapped around him, the familiar hum of nature pulsing beneath his bare feet.
He stretched, then began.
Push-ups. Squats. Lunges. More advanced movement drills Aristo had shown the Mystic Vanguard. He mimicked Alex's footwork, tried the precise pivot Elara used when casting. He didn't have their skills, but he could borrow their discipline.
Sweat dripped from his brow. His arms trembled, but he kept going.
Then came the breathing again.
He sat beneath the tree, palms pressed to the earth, and inhaled. The flow of mana around him felt clearer tonight, almost anticipatory. As if the world itself was bracing for what came next.
His breathing deepened, syncing with the slow rise and fall of the wind through the leaves.
A stillness settled over him as he exhaled.
The air around the tree had changed—quiet, yet alert. The grass swayed not just with the breeze, but with rhythm. Purpose.
Drey lowered his hands to the soil, fingers splayed across the cool earth. He could feel the pulse beneath it—not like a heartbeat, but a presence.
Ancient. Watchful.The leaves overhead rustled in the wind, and for a fleeting moment, the sound carried meaning. Not words, but something close—like a whisper brushing past his thoughts.
A soft chime echoed in his mind
[Elemental Affinity Detected: Wind and Earth (Dormant).]
[Attunement: Initial Sensory Awakening.]
He opened his eyes, heartbeat steady.
His limbs still ached from the workout, but it was distant—muted beneath the quiet exhilaration rising through his chest. As if something had shifted beneath the surface.
He whispered, "Status."
[Name: Drey Edwards]
[Description: Touching the hidden threads of the world.]
[Level: 0]
[Health: 260]★
[Mana: 220]★
[Stats:]
Vigor: 13★
Mind: 21 ★
Endurance: 15 ★
Strength: 20 ★
Agility: 17 ★
Dexterity: 14★
Intelligence: 10
[Class: 6 Spiritual Root Cultivator]
[Elemental Affinities: Wind (Minor), Earth (Minor)]★
[Attunement: Dormant – Awaiting Development]★
He exhaled slowly, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Lets hope I'll be ready for whatever tomorrow brings."
But even as the wind rustled the grass in approval, a faint prickle of unease stirred in his gut.
And somewhere, hidden beyond the trees and stone walls of the castle, a pair of unseen eyes narrowed.
-----------------------
Drey lingered beneath the tree longer than he meant to. The moon had begun its descent, casting long, pale shadows across the grass. Eventually, the creeping light of dawn began to tint the sky. He exhaled, rolling his shoulders once more, still feeling that subtle hum in the earth and air around him.
The breeze brushed against his skin as he stood, and it felt... acknowledging, somehow. Like the wind itself had accepted his presence in the quiet rhythm of the natural world. He whispered a thanks and made his way back to the castle, steps light but sure.
The castle was already stirring by the time he returned to his room. Maids were lighting lanterns and preparing packs. Armor clinked in distant halls. Drey changed quickly, donning a lightweight training outfit and securing the cloth bracers he'd grown used to wearing.
At breakfast, the atmosphere was more focused than tense. Group A and Group B intermingled slightly more than usual, some joking quietly, others sharing last-minute reminders.
Elara reviewed a map with Alex, both speaking in quiet tones. Even Ronan looked... present, eyes scanning the room with intent rather than detachment.
Then Archibald entered, his steps calm and crisp, and the room hushed again.
"You will gather in the south courtyard within ten minutes," he said. "You will find your field packs, supplies, and team assignments waiting. Final instructions will be given before departure."
The south courtyard was already bustling when the students arrived.
Three large tables had been set up, each with neat rows of leather packs, marked with small color-coded tags. A handful of castle staff were sorting final items—ration packets, crystal compasses, enchanted flares.
Sir Brook stood near the far end, arms crossed, silent.
He pointed at the three groups forming behind the tables. "Your teams are already assigned. You'll each head to a different sector along the perimeter and perform basic sweeps—signs of monster migration, elemental surges, or unexplained terrain shifts."
Sir Brook finally stepped forward, gaze sharp. "Each of your teams will be assigned to a different sector along the outer perimeter of the capital's territory," he began, his voice carrying easily over the courtyard.
"You are to sweep and clear the area of any residual magical disturbances or creature presence. Eliminate any threats deemed hostile. Do not wander outside your assigned zone."
He turned and pointed toward a map now unrolled across the center table. Three marked regions stretched across the outer boundary, with one central point highlighted in red.
"Once your sector is clear, you will proceed to this location—Point Kareth. It's a central glade between the three sectors. Once all three teams arrive, you'll regroup and return to the capital together."
He let that hang for a moment.
"This is not just a patrol," he continued. "This is a field test of your coordination, control, and discipline. If you engage, make it quick. Make it clean. And if something feels wrong—report, don't improvise."
He looked at each of them in turn. "Understood?"
A series of nods and firm "Yes, Sir" responses followed.
Archibald, standing just behind him, gave a satisfied nod. "Supplies are packed. Maps are enchanted to update in real time. You leave immediately."
Drey stood quietly as the names were read out. Most of Group A clustered together in the lead team, led by Alex. Elara, Lily, and even Mia were all quickly assigned to other squads, their faces a mixture of focus and faint excitement.
Then came the final group.
"Team Three," Archibald announced. "Ronan Smith, Drey Edwards, Claire Morgan, Carter Reed, Ryan Carter, and Serena Collins."
Drey blinked. It was an odd mix. He wasn't grouped with any of his usual training partners. Claire was one of the support team's more composed enchanters, Carter a long-range thunder mage with a chaotic streak, and Serena, another artillery type, could incinerate a field if given a few moments.
Ryan was a quiet, precise healer—and Ronan, as always, stood at the edge of the crowd like a shadow waiting to be overlooked.
A small part of Drey was relieved. No pressure to perform in front of Alex or Elara. But something about the arrangement also felt... off. Ronan gave him a nod—distant but steady. Drey returned it.
Sir Brook finally stepped forward, gaze sharp.
"Each team will move to a designated zone." He gestured to the hovering projection map beside him, zooming in on the forested lowlands and hills south of the capital.
"Team One will sweep the northern riverbend. Team Two, the outer ruins along the cliffline. Team Three—you will clear the forest crossing at Harthstone Pass. You'll each proceed independently. Once your routes are confirmed secure, you will converge at Point Argis—this ridge here—and return together."
He gave them a moment to study the map.
"If you do encounter resistance, eliminate it swiftly and report. No heroics. No wandering."
There was no bark in his voice—just iron certainty.
Next, Archibald raised a hand toward three figures standing near the gate.
"Your liaisons will accompany each group. Veterans of the local watch."
Sir Aelin Vahr stepped forward—an older knight with a green cloak and a tired but sharp gaze. He moved to stand beside Team One.
Then came a younger woman, her armor light and functional, eyes scanning the students like she'd already evaluated their worth. She introduced herself simply: "Sir Calla Brenn." She joined Team Two.
And finally, a solidly built man with a blunt face and a scar tracing his cheek stepped forward for Drey's group.
"Sir Bren Halwick," he said in a gruff, matter-of-fact tone. "I'll be guiding Team Three."
Drey studied the man as he adjusted the heavy pack on his shoulder. He didn't look like someone easily rattled—and that gave Drey a bit of comfort.
Archibald stepped in one last time. "Remember, this is not just a test of your skills—it's a test of awareness. How you move through unfamiliar land, how you coordinate, how you observe. Stay alert. Stay together."
With that, the gates of the southern wall creaked open, revealing a road that wound down through sloping hills and into the wild.
The students moved in three staggered formations, their earlier chatter giving way to the rhythmic clatter of boots on stone and the occasional creak of leather gear.
Sir Brook walked a short distance behind the group, silent as a shadow, observing everything.
As the castle receded behind them and the capital skyline gave way to rolling wildlands, Drey glanced over his shoulder one last time.
The wind tugged gently at his sleeve—an echo of the night before—and he couldn't shake the feeling that today would mark the true beginning of their journey.