The next morning arrived like a punch to the skull.
Felix groaned from under a table, clutching his stomach like he’d swallowed a brick. Julien was nursing a bruised ego after Cassandra effortlessly flipped him when he got "too friendly" in his sleep. Garrick snored like a collapsing cave. Mira sat on a barrel outside, already fully dressed, sharpening a knife with way too much focus for this early in the day.
I stepped over Wallace, who’d sohow built a nest of tavern napkins, and shoved the mission board’s posting into the center of the group.
"Wake up, Future Corpses. Fieldwork officially begins today."
Felix peeked out from beneath the table. "I think I’m dying."
"Good. You’ll be lighter to carry when you collapse halfway through."
Julien raised a finger. "Wait—fieldwork? You an like real missions? With pay?"
"With everything, including death by stupidity. And considering this group, that’s likely."
I slapped the parchnt again. "Three missions available. One’s a simple supply run to a nearby village. Another’s a beast-warding job along the trade route. Last is a pest problem in a mining town—sothing about aggressive fire sprites."
Leo, sohow awake just enough to hear the last part, groaned. "Please not the fire ones. I just regrew my eyebrows from last ti."
"No votes. You’re all doing the third one," I said. "Sprites are easy. If you get burned, you deserve it."
Wallace popped up. "Do they explode?"
"Only if you provoke them."
"...Define provoke."
"Breathing near them counts."
Half a day later, we were on the road.
The mining town was called Ashroot—a forgotten little crater at the edge of the southern cliffs. Dusty, dry, and too hot for comfort. The kind of place where the sun didn’t rise so much as attack you.
We walked in like a traveling circus: leading, Garrick hauling most of the supplies, and Felix wheezing like a dying accordion.
Mira kept pace with Cassandra, who hadn’t said much. Her silence wasn’t unusual, but it felt heavier today. Julien whispered sothing to her once—he got a glare that could kill lesser n. He shut up quickly.
The foreman t us at the town’s center.
Grizzled. Missing a few teeth. Looked at my students the way a butcher looks at a cow with a limp.
"You the academy lot?" he asked, spitting to the side.
I nodded. "Class C. Here to clean your sprite ss."
He scratched his beard. "Didn’t expect ’C’ to stand for children. Thought they’d send real battlemages."
"They’ll be fine. If they’re not, I’ll make sure the bodies don’t block the tunnels."
He blinked at , then laughed. "You’re the an one, huh?"
"I prefer realistic."
We were led to the entrance of the mines just as the sun started dipping low.
"Sprites nest deep," the foreman warned. "Nasty little shits. Started out annoying. Now they’re burning equipnt, even scorched a few n."
"How many?"
"Three injured. One... didn’t make it out."
I glanced back at my students.
Julien’s grin was gone.
Garrick looked more serious than usual.
Mira gave a short nod.
Felix... looked like he was trying not to vomit again.
"Alright," I said. "Ti to put all that expensive education to use."
I turned toward the dark mouth of the mine.
"Rember, Class C. Stick together, don’t touch anything shiny, and if you see sothing glowing red and laughing—run first, scream later."
The Ashroot mine welcod us with heat, dust, and a sll like burnt copper. The kind of scent that says: if you go deeper, you’ll regret it. Naturally, we went deeper.
"Keep formation," I said, my voice echoing off jagged walls. "Felix, you’re middle. If anything jumps out, I want it to hit soone useful first."
"Wait—what?"
"Exactly."
Wallace scribbled runes on a chunk of tal, probably setting traps. Julien twirled his dagger. Mira walked like she was expecting to be ambushed at any mont. Garrick just looked excited—he always looked excited before violence. Cassandra... had her hand close to her hidden blade. That girl was too quiet. Too still.
We passed cracked rail lines and broken carts, all lted at the edges. That wasn’t normal. Fire sprites weren’t usually this destructive. Sothing was wrong.
The first attack ca without warning.
A streak of orange light zipped past my head. Julien yelped as sparks singed his cloak. Then ca the shrieking laughter—high-pitched, manic.
Three of the little bastards darted into view—glowing red eyes, molten skin, and wings of ember. They flitted like hornets made of living fla.
"Engage!" I barked.
Garrick swung his hamr, catching one mid-air. It exploded like a firecracker. Felix scread. I didn’t even know where he was anymore.
Mira whispered sothing and flicked a cursed sigil. One of the sprites froze mid-flight, twitching as the shadows pulled it down.
Wallace chucked a rune grenade. It missed completely. The sprite it was ant for snorted and zipped past, setting part of his hood on fire.
Julien ducked and rolled, stabbing one right through its flickering heart. The sprite burst into fla and vanished.
Two down.
I stepped forward, drew my shortblade, and crushed the last one with a flash-ignited strike. Cinders scattered in the air.
Silence returned.
Then a hiss.
From deeper below.
"They’re nesting," Cassandra said quietly.
I turned to the group. "Lesson one. That wasn’t even a warm-up. If you’re already sweating, you’re not ready. Fix your forms. Tighten your spacing. And Felix—"
He peeked from behind a crate.
"—scream quieter next ti. You scared more than they did."
We pressed on. Deeper into the tunnels. The walls glowed faintly now—charred black with strange marks, not sprite-made.
Mira murmured, "This isn’t natural..."
"No," I muttered, running my fingers along the soot-patterns. "It’s not. But the mission didn’t ntion anything worse. So let’s treat this like a sprite problem until it starts killing us like a demon problem."
Wallace gulped. "Comforting."
We reached a chamber wide enough to fit a rchant caravan. Miners must’ve pulled a fortune from this place once.
But now? The walls shimred like glass, heat warping the air.
And in the center... sothing pulsed. Glowing faintly. A nest. Cracked stone, twisted tal, and sothing else buried underneath—flesh?
Then a chi. A sharp, sudden ring of laughter.
The air thickened.
Cassandra stiffened.
Mira took a step back.
Felix whispered, "That’s not a sprite..."
No, it wasn’t.
A shape rose from the center of the nest. Taller than a sprite. Human-like, but covered in dancing fla. Its eyes locked on . Not curious. Not afraid.
Hungry.
I cracked my neck.
"Well... looks like we just graduated from pest control to cursed cleanup."
I drew my blade again.
"Class C. Ti to earn your passing grade. Or your tombstones."
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