Chapter 94: Club eting (2)
The eting ended with a snap of Anya’s clipboard.
"Dismissed. Training hunt tomorrow, sunrise. Don’t be late."
Most mbers filtered out quickly so chatting about equipnt, others rushing to secure cafeteria seats before the dinner rush.
Leon lingered behind, of course, trying to corner Aldric with earnest questions about hunting strategy. The two of them launched into an intense discussion about wind patterns, scent masking, and blade durability as if they were already old colleagues.
I wasn’t surprised. Leon was practically vibrating with the chance to prove himself.
anwhile, Aiden flopped into the nearest chair like he’d run a marathon.
"Man, that vice leader is scarier than half the monsters I’ve seen."
I sat across from him, stretching my shoulders. "You only saw her holding a clipboard."
"Exactly," he shot back. "Imagine what she’s like with a spear."
He had a point.
Leon finally broke off his strategy session and rejoined us, looking smug.
"I’ve secured a personal sparring appointnt with Aldric for next week."
"Of course you did," Aiden muttered.
Leon ignored him. "This club is an ideal platform. Practical missions, structured leadership, contribution recognition , it’s the perfect environnt to sharpen our skills."
Aiden smirked. "Translation: you’re gonna be a teacher’s pet."
"I am not—!"
"Leo the Lionheart, first of his na, slayer of paperwork and club points."
"Don’t call Leo!"
Their voices echoed off the hunting hall walls, drawing a few stares from the remaining mbers.
I rubbed my temple. "...I’m surrounded by idiots."
By the ti we left the Hunting Club, the sun had dipped low, painting the Academy’s courtyards in warm orange.
We didn’t make it far before two familiar figures intercepted us.
Maria, her uniform jacket draped over her shoulders like a cape, raised a brow. "So? How was your first day as hunters?"
Aurelia, walking beside her with her usual cool elegance, added softly, "Judging by Aiden’s slouch, I assu Anya terrified him."
"Terrified?" Aiden gasped. "More like... spiritually crushed."
Maria smirked. "Good. You needed humbling."
Leon folded his arms. "For the record, I impressed Aldric Sterling. He acknowledged my initiative."
Maria tilted her head innocently. "And yet... didn’t he still assign you to Jax’s babysitting squad?"
Leon froze. "...That was a... procedural formality."
Aurelia covered her mouth, eyes glinting with amusent. "Procedural... formality. Of course."
I couldn’t help it—I laughed.
Maria’s gaze flicked to at the sound, and for a brief second, her confident mask faltered. Her lips curved into sothing softer.
"Michael," she said, "you look... more relaxed than usual."
I shrugged. "Maybe it’s the club atmosphere. Less about Study only fun remain and finally I can use by skill to do practical hunting Monsters not in VR."
"Practical, huh?" she teased. "So you chose Hunting Club for the practicality, not the adventure?"
"...Exactly."
Aurelia leaned close to Maria, whispering just loud enough for to catch. "Don’t worry. He already Rank 1 and take Care of you. Isn’t that enough?"
Maria’s face went scarlet. "A-Aurelia!"
Leon blinked in confusion. "What careing ?"
"Nothing!" Maria snapped, hiding her face with both hands.
Aiden grinned wickedly. "Ohhh. This is getting good."
"Say another word," Maria threatened, peeking through her fingers, "and I’ll personally make sure your next training partner is Anya."
Aiden shut his mouth instantly.
I chuckled under my breath, but inside... there was a quiet weight.
Maria. Aurelia. Leon. Aiden.
In this life I have made friends who walk arround , talk together, make fun of each other.
I beca true person as Michael’s Wilson staying with them .
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Ti passed by wind and one weak passed .
I have been in this world for three months by now, it was great experience and I am now at the Training Room of the Club .
The Hunting Club’s training hall was a cathedral of steel and sweat.
Polished stone floors bore the faint grooves of countless sparring matches, and rows of weapon racks lined the walls, each blade gleaming under the flicker of enchanted lanterns.
The air was heavy with the sharp tang of oil and iron, softened only by the faint spice of incense burned to mask the stench of exertion.
By this hour, most mbers had already left. The laughter of young hunters echoing after drills had long since faded, leaving only silence and the faint creak of banners swaying from the rafters.
But not everyone was gone.
At the far end of the hall, near the long oak table where plans and maps were usually spread, sat Aldric Sterling—third-year, Rank 7, and the kind of man who carried authority the way a sword carried its edge.
His posture was immaculate even at rest, the tilt of his shoulders declaring discipline more loudly than words.
His hair, the color of dark steel, caught the lantern light as he leaned back in his chair, studying the first-years before him with an expression too calm to read.
Beside him leaned Anya Sarfire, the vice leader, casual yet dangerous in her repose. Arms crossed, crimson hair brushing her jawline, she looked like a hawk half-bored with the world but unwilling to miss a single movent. Her eyes were cool, sharp, but not unkind it just impossibly difficult to impress.
And standing before them: Michael Wilson, flanked by Leon Lionheart and Aiden Stromfang. The trio looked younger under the glow of the lanterns, their shadows stretching long across the polished floor. But there was sothing in Michael’s gaze tonight was sothing that didn’t match the innocence of a first-year.
The air between the four felt taut, like a bowstring drawn too tight.
Aldric broke the silence first. His voice was low, rich, carrying the kind of weight that made younger students instinctively straighten.
"Tomorrow is Nomination Day," he said. "The Hunting Club has already reached a consensus. Emily Lionheart will be our candidate for President of the Student Union. Her bloodline, her record, her reputation but it would be foolish to waste our support elsewhere."
Leon shifted slightly at his sister’s na, his jaw tightening, though he said nothing. Aiden only gave a sideways glance at Michael, clearly waiting for him to open his mouth.
And Michael did. Not quickly, not nervously—he waited for the words to settle, then stepped closer to the light of the lanterns.
"I don’t intend to challenge Emily Lionheart," Michael said calmly. His voice was not loud, but it carried. "She will win, and likely without serious opposition. My interest lies elsewhere."
Anya’s head tilted slightly, curiosity sparking. Aldric’s eyes narrowed, faint amusent glinting.
"Elsewhere?"
Michael exhaled, as if committing himself.
"I want the Hunting Club’s nomination. Not for President, but for a seat as an Executive mber of the Disciplinary Committee."
The words landed like a blade against stone. Even Leon blinked, montarily startled. Aiden gave a low whistle, leaning back with a smirk.
Anya raised her brows, speaking before Aldric could.
"...You’re not reaching for the crown. You’re reaching for the blade behind the throne."
Michael nodded once.
"The presidency is prestige. But the Disciplinary Committee holds teeth. It is the authority to act, not just to parade. That’s where I can make a difference."
Aldric leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering with interest but also steel.
"Do you understand what you’re asking, Wilson? That seat is no ornant. You’ll be hated by the undisciplined, resented by nobles, targeted by troublemakers. And you’re a first-year. You have neither pedigree nor faction to shield you."
Michael’s gaze didn’t waver.
"Exactly. That’s why I can carry it. I owe no debts to noble houses, no chains to their politics. I can act freely. And if the Hunting Club stands behind , that freedom becos legitimacy."
For a mont, the hall felt even quieter. The lantern flas seed to steady, as though listening.
Michael placed his hand lightly on the oak table between them, fingers spreading against the grain of the wood.
"If I win, it isn’t just my victory. The Hunting Club gains leverage. We’d have direct access to Union patrol assignnts, expedition clearances, and dungeon rights that are normally swallowed by noble factions. Our mbers will see more opportunities to safer hunts, better pay, priority missions. Even our recruitnt will soar."
" More Mission will be allocated by the committee"
His voice gained quiet intensity, the kind that pulled ears toward it without rising.
"You’ve said yourselves before that people whisper the Club is only a playground for nobles. But if you back , if you give your na to a commoner who earns that seat... you’ll change how the academy sees us. The Club won’t just be strong it’ll be trusted."
Aiden chuckled under his breath, shaking his head.
"Listen to him. Sounds like he’s pitching a business deal instead of a nomination. Not bad though, eh?"
Leon smirked faintly, pride flickering in his eyes as he crossed his arms.
"He’s right. Backing Michael would shake things up. About ti soone did."
Aldric didn’t answer right away. Instead, he let the silence stretch and then, like a shifting tide, his mana presence filled the room.
The air thickened. Pressure pressed against Michael’s chest, his lungs, his knees, as though invisible chains tried to bend him down. It was a subtle flex of power—a D-rank’s will pressing against an E’s fra. Not enough to crush. Just enough to test.
Michael’s breath slowed. He locked his knees, spine straightening under the weight. His jaw tightened, but he didn’t bow, didn’t step back. He t Aldric’s gaze head-on, sweat prickling at his neck but resolve burning behind his eyes.
Seconds bled into longer ones. Leon shifted uncomfortably; Aiden frowned.
But Michael stood.
Unbent.
Finally, Aldric withdrew the pressure, his aura fading like a tide rolling back. His lips curved but not for mockery, not for condescension, but the smallest flicker of respect.
"...Unbreakable," Aldric murmured. "I see."
Anya let out a low laugh, finally pushing herself off the wall.
"That was more entertaining than I expected. He didn’t fall from that Aura and withstand in E rank ."
" He is really Amazing"
Aldric folded his hands, studying Michael with new eyes. Then he spoke, firm and clear
"Very well. The Hunting Club will not oppose Emily Lionheart’s presidency. But we will place our second nomination on you, Michael Wilson nomination for the Disciplinary Committee. If you succeed, the Club prospers. If you fail, the weight of sha is yours to carry."
Michael inclined his head, voice steady.
"I accept. If I fall, let it stain alone. But if I succeed, I’ll raise us all."
Leon clapped him on the shoulder, grinning.
"That’s how it should be. Hunting Club doesn’t play small."
Aiden leaned in with a mischievous smirk.
"And if you end up throwing nobles out of the cafeteria when they pick fights, I’ll buy you dinner for a week."
Even Anya chuckled softly at that, shaking her head.
But Aldric’s gaze lingered on Michael, serious once more. His voice dropped, grave and deliberate.
"Rember this, Wilson. Politics is war dressed in silk. Every smile hides a blade. Every deal demands blood. Once you step onto that stage, you cannot step back without consequence. Are you prepared for that?"
Michael’s breath was steady, his words like stone.
"Then let it be war. My will won’t break."
For a heartbeat, the hall seed to darken, shadows stretching like ons across the stone. Yet in that mont, sothing settled into place a vow made not just to Aldric and Anya, but to himself.
The deal was struck.
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