The group from Del's class approached cautiously, their movents synchronized like a well-oiled machine. William's keen senses remained alert, scanning each of their faces with a calculated precision that betrayed years of survival instinct. The desert wind whispered between them, carrying tiny grains of red sand that danced around their boots.
"We're from Del's class," the female student announced, her voice carrying a mix of confidence and exhaustion. Her gaze swept across William's team, taking in the scattered remnants of their Teethworm battle.
William noticed sothing imdiately—a slight irregularity in her stance. A hint of vulnerability that she was desperately trying to conceal. Her left leg seed to bear less weight, a subtle limp that she was fighting hard to mask.
Liam, ever the straightforward one, broke the tension with a rough laugh. "Those Teethworms weren't exactly a welco party," he said, gesturing to the crystal remains.
"Please, join us," William said, his voice calm and asured. He gestured to the open space around their cluster of pine trees. The soft needles carpeted the ground, offering a montary respite from the harsh desert landscape.
As the new group settled, Eleanor's sharp eyes caught the girl's careful movent. Her dical training, honed through countless battles, imdiately recognized the signs of a hidden injury.
"What happened to your leg?" Eleanor asked, her tone professional yet gentle.
One of the male students in the group—a blonde twin—explained, "A Teethworm managed to get a bite. We've applied first aid, but..." He trailed off, exchanging worried glances with his teammates.
The girl—whose na remained unspoken—attempted to maintain her composure. "I'm fine," she insisted, her voice betraying a hint of strain as she lowered herself against a pine tree's bark. Her face was a masterpiece of forced composure, muscles taut with the effort of appearing unaffected.
But her facade crumbled the mont she sat down. A barely suppressed wince crossed her features, revealing the depth of her pain. Her group watched her, their faces etched with concern and a mix of frustration and worry.
Eleanor caught Sofia's eye. A silent communication passed between them—Sofia gave a nearly imperceptible nod.
"You're in luck," Eleanor announced to the group. "Sofia here is a user of light ability. She has exceptional healing capabilities. If you don't mind, she can help."
The transformation was instantaneous. Hope blood across the faces of the newcors. One of the twins spoke, his voice filled with gratitude. "We don't mind. Thank you."
His brother nodded in agreent, relief washing over his features.
Sofia approached the girl, her movents smooth and professional. "Where is the wound?" she asked softly.
A crimson blush erupted across the girl's cheeks. Her embarrassnt was palpable, a stark contrast to the battlefield hardness she had displayed monts earlier.
Eleanor, reading the situation instantly, turned to the males. "Everyone else—go further into the trees. I don't want any of you anywhere near here. Anyone who tries to peek will find themselves temporarily blind. Consider that a promise, not a threat."
William stood, signaling Gavin and Liam. The four boys from the other group followed, moving deeper into the pine grove. Just before disappearing into the trees, William turned back.
"Eleanor, be careful," he said, his voice low but carrying a weight of absolute trust. "Call out if there's any danger."
The pine trees seed to absorb their movents, branches swaying gently, creating a natural screen of privacy. The desert's harsh sunlight filtered through the needles, casting dappled shadows on the ground—a serene contrast to the violent battle that had preceded this mont.
In that quiet space, surrounded by the earthy scent of pine and the distant whisper of sand, healing would begin.
As the boys moved deeper into the pine grove, the soft crunch of pine needles beneath their feet created a rhythmic backdrop to their conversation. The heat of the desert seed to fade slightly under the trees' protective canopy, offering a montary reprieve from the scorching twin suns.
"Those Teethworms are absolute nightmares," one of the blonde twins said, leaning against a thick pine trunk. His bow—surprisingly similar to William's—hung casually at his side. "I'm Marcus, by the way. Archer in our team."
William raised an eyebrow. Another archer in this harsh world was a rare sight. Gavin and Liam exchanged a look, recognizing the unique connection.
The other twin—presumably his brother—chid in. "I'm Lucas. We both use ranged weapons, but even our arrows struggled against those sand-diving monsters." He pulled out an arrow, turning it in the sunlight that filtered through the branches. "We found out quickly that it takes multiple shots to take down a single Teethworm."
Liam let out a grunt of understanding. "Tell about it. My sword was practically useless. Ended up using fire abilities just to have so effective attack."
One of the other male students—broader shouldered and with a massive battleaxe strapped to his back—nodded sympathetically. "I'm Derek. My axe might as well have been a decoration against those creatures. They're too fast, too unpredictable."
Marcus began recounting their recent hunt. "Sarah—the girl healing back there—she got caught off guard. We were hunting in a similar area, and these Teethworms just burst from the sand like living nightmares. One managed to get a bite on her leg before we could react."
Lucas continued the story, their twin synchronization evident in how seamlessly they traded narrative threads. "It was a close call. The Teethworm's bite went deep—nearly took a chunk out of her calf. We managed to kill it, but not before it did so serious damage."
Gavin listened intently, twirling his dual daggers. "Close combat is a death sentence against those things. They pop up without warning, all teeth and aggression."
William remained mostly silent, observing. His dark eyes took in every detail—the way Marcus handled his bow, the slight tension in Derek's shoulders, the nervous energy of the younger-looking student who hadn't yet introduced himself.
"How many crystals did you manage to collect?" William finally asked, his voice cutting through the ambient sounds of the pine grove.
Marcus pulled out a small leather pouch, carefully opening it to reveal their collection. Twelve beast crystals glimred with a soft, ethereal light. "Not as many as you guys as I can see how big your bag is, but enough to keep us in the ga."
The younger student—who had been quiet until now—spoke up. "I'm Ryan," he said, his voice a mix of determination and nervousness. "I'm still learning. My Earth magic isn't as refined as so, but I'm getting better."
Liam gave a rough chuckle. "We all start sowhere. Skill cos with experience—and surviving."
The conversation continued, a blend of battle stories, tactical discussions, and the subtle sizing up that happens between groups who might be competitors or potential allies. The pine trees stood as silent witnesses, their branches creating a natural screen that muffled their voices and protected them from the desert's harsh environnt.
Outside, in the healing circle with Eleanor and Sofia, a different kind of conversation was unfolding—one of pain, vulnerability, and potential recovery.
While the conversation flowed around him, William subtly activated his Shadow Eye ability. The world around him shifted, taking on a different hue—shadows deepening, edges becoming more defined, hidden details erging from the background.
His third eye, a skill born from his Shadow eye, began scanning the four boys. Information flickered before his consciousness, a silent stream of data that only he could perceive.
Marcus and Lucas—the archer twins—registered as relatively unremarkable. Their strength hovered around 10-12, with agility slightly higher. Their archery skills were decent but not exceptional. No hidden talents, no extraordinary potential that would mark them as anything more than average students.
Derek, with his massive battleaxe, showed a strength of 13, typical for a close-combat fighter. His endurance was slightly above average, but nothing that would make him stand out in a competitive environnt.
Ryan, the youngest, was the weakest of the group. His stats barely reached 9, with his ice magic still in its early stages. A novice, still learning, still finding his way in this harsh world.
But it was their soul crystals that truly interested William. He focused his Shadow Eye, searching for any trace of dark energy—the telltale sign of heretic manipulation. His past experiences had taught him to be cautious, to never trust anyone completely.
To his surprise and relief, their soul crystals were clean. Pure. No dark tendrils, no corrupting energy that would suggest external manipulation. They were exactly what they appeared to be—ordinary students participating in a hunting test.
A subtle tension William hadn't even realized he was carrying began to release.
The conversation continued, a delicate dance of information sharing and subtle assessnt. The pine grove around them seed to breathe with their words, branches swaying, needles rustling—a natural backdrop to their tactical discussion.
William's mind, however, remained alert. His Shadow Eye might have confird their innocence, but in a world where threats could erge from anywhere, vigilance was never truly unnecessary.
Outside, the healing continued. The soft murmur of Sofia's light ability mixed with the ambient sounds of the desert, a promise of recovery amidst the harsh landscape.
Reviews
All reviews (0)