Robin and Norman limped back to the Academy three days later, arriving with the final extraction group.
Their injuries had partially healed through rest and Norman’s single remaining healing potion, but both still moved with obvious pain.
The mission debrief was held in the main assembly hall. Hundreds of students gathered to report their results and hear official rankings.
The Headmaster stood at the podium, his scarred face impassive as teams presented their tallies.
Class A teams reported respectable numbers, ten to fifteen goblin kills each, completed with minimal injuries. Polite applause followed each report.
Class B did similarly well. When Kael’s team approached the podium, they carried the Hobgoblin’s head mounted on a pike.
The hall erupted in shocked whispers.
"Team Kael," The Headmaster announced, his voice carrying authority. "Confird kill: one B-rank Hobgoblin Warchief. Additional kills: twelve goblins. Total ranking points: four hundred seventy-five."
Thunderous applause. Kael basked in it, his smile triumphant. His teammates stood proud, accepting congratulations from other students.
Robin watched from the back of the hall, his expression neutral. Norman’s hands clenched into fists beside him.
"That should be ours," Norman whispered, barely controlling his anger.
"Let it go," Robin said quietly.
"Let it go? They stole our kill! Our proof!"
"And we have no evidence to contradict their story." Robin’s voice was cold, analytical. "It’s our word against a Class B noble with witnesses who’ll support his version. We’d lose that fight."
Classes C and D reported next modest kills, acceptable performance. Nothing exceptional.
Finally, Class F teams were called forward.
Grol’s team reported eight goblin kills. Respectable for their ranking. Other teams reported similar numbers.
When Robin and Norman’s turn ca.
"Team Stark-Grey," the Headmaster said. "Report."
Robin stepped forward, Norman beside him. Both still showed signs of their injuries. Norman’s movents were stiff, Robin’s breathing shallow from healing ribs.
"Twenty-eight confird goblin kills," Robin stated clearly. "Multiple nest eliminations across our assigned sector and adjacent territories."
Silence. Then murmurs rippled through the hall.
Twenty-eight kills was more than any Class F team. More than most Class B teams. For two students with minimal equipnt and the hardest route assignnt, it was extraordinary.
"That’s impossible," soone whispered.
"They’re lying," another voice said.
The Headmaster raised a hand, silencing the crowd. "Evidence?"
Robin produced a bundle wrapped in cloth. He opened it on the podium, revealing goblin ears, the standard proof of kills. Twenty-eight pairs, carefully preserved.
The crowd’s murmurs intensified.
"We followed proper collection protocols," Robin said. "Each kill is docunted. Our route took us through three major nest concentrations. We eliminated all hostile presence in our sector."
The headmaster examined the ears with professional detachnt. His fingers counted, verified. After a long mont, he nodded.
"Confird. Twenty-eight goblin kills. Total ranking points: two hundred eighty." His scarred gaze settled on them. "Highest kill count of any two-person team. Exceptional performance for Class F students."
The applause that followed was different from what Kael had received. Not thunderous celebration but confused, uncertain acknowledgnt.
Many students exchanged glances, so impressed, others suspicious.
Robin and Norman returned to their position in the back of the hall. The recognition was hollow without the Hobgoblin credit, but it served its purpose.
After the assembly, Robin and Norman made their way through the Academy grounds. Students parted before them, creating an unconscious corridor.
Whispers followed in their wake.
"Twenty-eight kills..."
"How did they even survive?"
"Did you see their injuries? They fought sothing serious."
"I heard they actually killed the Hobgoblin but couldn’t prove it."
"That’s bullshit. Kael’s team took it down."
"But those two were found at the scene, half-dead..."
The speculation was imdiate and intense. Two Class F students, the cursed noble and the half-beast had not only survived the hardest route but had outperford teams with better equipnt and higher rankings.
It didn’t fit the established hierarchy. It made people uncomfortable.
They reached the Class F dormitory. Inside, their classmates stared.
Grol approached first. His expression was complicated respect mixed with wariness.
"Twenty-eight," he said simply. "That’s... that’s insane. How?"
"We hunted efficiently," Robin replied. "No wasted ti. No unnecessary risks."
"Bullshit." Grol’s tone wasn’t hostile, just frank. "Efficient hunting doesn’t leave you looking like you fought a war. What really happened out there?"
Robin t his gaze steadily. "We completed our mission. That’s all that matters."
Norman pushed past them, heading for his bunk. His golden eyes flashed with barely contained anger. "I’m done talking. We did the work. They stole the credit. End of story."
The other Class F students exchanged glances. They wanted details, wanted to understand. But sothing in Norman’s tone made it clear the conversation was over.
That evening, Robin sat on the Academy rooftop his usual spot for private reflection. The sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and red.
His status screen floated in his vision:
```
┏━━━━━━━[ Host Profile ]━━━━━━━┓
│ Na: Robin Stark
│ Level: 8
│ EXP: 195/800
│
│ Core Attributes:
│ STR: 25
AGI: 15
│ END: 20
DEX: 15
│
│ HP: 64/80
│ Stamina: 60/60
│ Mana: 52/120
│
│ Skills:
│ Ti Echo [UNLOCKED]
│ └─ Cost: 50 Mana
│ └─ Status: AVAILABLE
│
│ Combat Statistics:
│ Total Kills (Mission): 28 Goblins 1. Hobgoblin
│ Experience Gained: 595 EXP
│ Level Progression: 1 Level
┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛
```
Level eight. His mana had finally crossed the threshold needed for Ti Echo, he could use it manually now, not just rely on automatic activation during life-threatening monts.
The mission had accelerated his growth significantly. But the stolen credit still stung.
Footsteps on the stairs. Robin didn’t turn. He knew that tread.
Norman erged onto the roof, his golden eyes reflecting the dying light. He sat beside Robin without speaking.
They watched the sunset in silence for several minutes.
"They’re calling us the ’Demon Duo,’" Norman said finally.
"I heard."
"Class F’s monsters. The rejects who sohow outperford everyone." Norman’s voice was bitter. "Not heroes. Not champions. Demons."
Robin considered this. "Good."
"Good?"
"Heroes are loved but scrutinized. Champions are celebrated but burdened with expectations."
Robin’s eyes remained on the horizon. "Demons are feared. And fear creates distance. Distance creates freedom."
Norman absorbed this. "You wanted this reputation."
"I wanted people to respect our capability while maintaining emotional distance. ’Demon Duo’ accomplishes that perfectly." Robin finally looked at him.
"We’re not here to make friends or win popularity contests. We’re here to beco strong enough that no one can dismiss us again."
"Kael dismissed us pretty effectively. Stole our kill. Made us look like we stumbled into his fight."
"Kael made a mistake," Robin said quietly. His voice carried absolute certainty. "He thinks he won because he took credit. But he revealed sothing important."
"What?"
"That we’re a threat he felt necessary to suppress." Robin’s smile was cold. "If we were truly irrelevant Class F trash, he’d have ignored us.
Instead, he went out of his way to steal our achievent and refra the narrative. That’s fear, Norman. He’s afraid of what we represent."
Norman’s eyes glead with understanding. "A challenge to the established order."
"Exactly. And now he’s marked himself as an enemy. Made it personal." Robin stood, his injuries protesting but his movents steady. "That’s useful information. We know who to watch. Who to prepare for. Who to eventually destroy."
"You’re planning revenge."
"I’m planning strategy." Robin turned to face Norman fully. "Kael will continue rising. He’s connected, talented, politically protected.
In a few years, he’ll be influential. Powerful. Untouchable by conventional ans."
"And unconventional ans?"
Robin’s smile widened slightly. "Those are my specialty."
They stood on the rooftop as darkness fell completely. Below, the Academy continued its routines, students studying, training, socializing. Completely unaware of the two figures above, plotting in shadows.
"The Demon Duo," Norman said, testing the na. "I can work with that. As long as we’re demons together."
"Always." Robin extended his hand.
Norman gripped it firmly. Their partnership had been forged in midnight training sessions, but it had been tempered in the Gloomwood Forest.
Tested against overwhelming odds and proven unbreakable.
They released the handshake and turned toward the stairs.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges. More training. More growth. More steps toward the strength they both craved.
But tonight, they’d earned rest.
The Class F dormitory was quiet when they returned. Other students gave them space, so from respect, others from unease.
Robin lay in his bunk, reviewing the mission in his mind. Twenty-eight confird kills. Three hundred ninety-five experience points gained. Level eight achieved.
And a reputation established.
Not as heroes. Not as prodigies. But as sothing else entirely.
Demons who’d erged from Class F’s depths and proven they could hunt with the best of them.
Let them fear, Robin thought as sleep claid him. Fear is honest. And honest reactions reveal true intentions.
Kael had revealed his. That information was worth more than any trophy.
The ga had just beco far more interesting.
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