The scent of roasted at and spiced vegetables filled the air as Lucian and his students sat around the long wooden tables, digging into the grand feast. After days of exhaustion, scarce rations, and near-death experiences, the spread before them felt almost surreal.
Julien tore into a roasted leg of beast, grinning between bites. "Now this is what I call a proper reward."
Mira sipped from her goblet, her eyes scanning the surroundings warily. "Feels too generous. What’s the catch?"
Felix, already on his third plate, waved off her concerns. "Who cares? If it’s a trap, at least I’ll die full."
Lucian leaned back, watching his students eat with an amused smirk. It was rare to see them so relaxed. They had earned it. But even so, Mira had a point. This entire event had been brutal, and kindness wasn’t a trait he associated with their hosts.
As if on cue, a sharp cry rang through the air. The Blue Bird, perched atop its stone pedestal, ruffled its feathers before speaking in its eerie, echoing voice.
The feast hall fell into silence, all eyes turning toward the mystical creature.
Mutterings rippled through the crowd. So students looked excited, others nervous.
Julien let out a low whistle. "A battle royale? That explains the feast. They want us at full strength."
Mira scowled. "Which ans it’s going to be a bloodbath. Even if it’s ’non-lethal,’ that just ans they’ll stop us before we die. Doesn’t an it won’t hurt."
Lucian exhaled through his nose, glancing at his students. "Calm down. You’ve been through worse. Besides, there’s only three more days left. Then we can finally leave this hellish Black Stone Mountain and return to the academy."
Leo groaned, slumping forward dramatically. "Three days still sounds like an eternity."
Wallace adjusted his glasses. "A non-lethal battle ans creative strategies will be key. It won’t just be about brute force."
Garrick cracked his knuckles. "Good. I prefer a fight where I don’t have to hold back."
Cassandra, as always, remained silent, her eyes unreadable.
Lucian took another bite of his al, already considering their approach. The battle royale wasn’t just about survival—it was a chance to prove that Class C was far from weak.
And he had no intention of letting them leave this mountain without making an impression.
The fourth day dawned quietly, the sky above Black Stone Mountain painted in hues of soft gray and pale gold. No horns. No announcents. Just silence and the low hum of wind winding through jagged cliffs.
Class C remained in their designated cave camp—a modest hollow carved into the mountain’s stone belly, barely large enough to house them all. The scent of smoke from a small fire drifted in the air, mixing with the earthy musk of damp rock and old sweat. For once, the pressure had lifted. A day of rest.
Lucian sat cross-legged near the mouth of the cave, sharpening his blade with rhythmic strokes. His cloak draped over his shoulders like a tired sentinel. He kept his gaze outward, watching the mist roll through the valley below.
Inside, the students were sprawled in various states of exhaustion and laziness.
Julien leaned back against a boulder, chewing on a stick of dried at. Mira sat nearby, legs folded beneath her, sketching formations into a notebook with quiet focus. Leo was asleep again, sohow managing to snore in complete silence. Wallace was tuning an old mana detector, muttering calculations to himself.
And Felix... was being Felix.
"So, hypothetically," Felix began, sitting cross-legged with a serious expression, "if you could replace your dominant hand with any animal paw, what would you pick?"
Mira didn’t even look up. "Shut up, Felix."
"C’mon, think about it," Felix grinned, undeterred. "Like—imagine having a bear paw. Super strength. Or maybe a raccoon hand, for, y’know, dexterity. Or—oh! A crab claw."
Julien snorted. "You’d replace your hand with a crab claw? What, so you can pinch enemies to death?"
"Not just pinch," Felix said, wiggling his fingers ominously. "Slice. Snip. Intimidate."
Wallace sighed without looking up. "Crabs don’t have intimidation value. They walk sideways and get eaten by seagulls."
"Exactly why no one would see it coming!" Felix said triumphantly. "It’s reverse psychology."
Lucian raised an eyebrow from his spot by the entrance, blade paused mid-stroke. "Felix, if I replaced your mouth with a sock, do you think you’d still talk this much?"
Felix grinned. "Only if it’s a talking sock."
That actually drew a quiet chuckle from Julien, and even Mira cracked a reluctant smile.
Cassandra, sitting near the fire with her knees hugged to her chest, gave Felix a blank look. "You talk like soone who’s never been seriously injured."
"I have!" Felix said proudly. "Rember that ti I got kicked in the chest and flew into a tree? Or when Garrick accidentally broke my arm during sparring?"
"That explains a lot," Garrick muttered from behind a rock where he was doing one-handed pushups.
Felix opened his mouth to say more, but Lucian cut in.
"Alright, enough about crab claws. We rest today, so try not to use all your energy on idiotic debates."
"But ntal gymnastics are still allowed, right?" Felix asked, already smirking.
Lucian gave him a flat look. "You’re banned from thinking for the next six hours."
Felix threw his arms up dramatically. "Tyranny! Absolute tyranny!"
The group settled back into silence after that, the fire crackling softly between them. Despite the looming threat of tomorrow’s battle royale, for a few brief hours, they allowed themselves to just exist. No trials. No bloodshed. Just laughter, rest, and warmth.
Lucian looked around at them—his students, his misfits—and for the first ti in a while, he let himself relax too.
Because tomorrow, hell would break loose again.
But today... today, they could just be human.
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