Chapitre 63: Happy birthday but here's some bad news
The class was silent as Victoria conveyed the details of October's assessment, her voice steady and authoritative. The weight of her words hung in the air, creating a tense atmosphere among the students.
Eventually, she began transmitting their schedule for the near future. "Beginning from today, your practical fighting sessions will consist of battling against and executing beast soldiers prepared by the academy, so mentally prepare yourself for that," she continued. "From now until the 30th of October, your spars will transform into death battles with these beast soldiers."
As she was about to continue speaking, her words abruptly got stuck in her throat. The sudden pause created a strange tension in the room, an oddity that rippled through the students.
This moment of silence felt charged, almost electric, and it was quickly covered up, alerting no one in particular—except for Anon.
A voice rang out in his ears, "Anon of year one, Dean Rao is summoning you to his office. Please head to the Dean's office immediately!"
Right then, Anon shot a sharp glance towards Seth before looking around the class. Only after his gaze met with Victoria's did his mind click and he returned to usual.
'It seems only Victoria and I heard that.' Anon deduced internally.
Rising to his feet, under Seth's curious gaze, he approached the front of the class, and before the slightly surprised gazes of these students, Victoria did nothing as Anon just up and walked out of class.
...
On the first floor of the general building, all the different classes were located, creating an expansive space that would soon be filled with the sounds of learning and chatter.
The sheer size of the first floor was impressive, with dozens of classrooms branching off from the main corridor.
The second floor held the aroma of food that wafted the air, it was where the cafeteria was located, and finally, the third was the location of the year one instructors, and dean.
As the elevator doors opened, Anon stepped into an expansive hallway, its polished floors gleaming under the overhead lights.
On either side were the doors of the different teachers' offices, but he walked for several seconds, with each footstep seeing him cross over a dozen meters.
Finally, he reached the end of the hallway, where the grand doors to the dean's office stood before him, imposing and solid.
As if sensing his presence, the sliding doors responded, gliding open smoothly to allow him entry.
The sight beyond caused Anon to raise an eyebrow from surprise.
The dean's office wasn't really an office, instead being a large hall that stretched majestically, with high ceilings soaring at least ninety feet above.
With grand arches and intricately designed columns, the hall had an air of timeless elegance, a sensation beyond the norm.
Atop a plush cushion, the aged dean sat with his eyes closed, embodying a meditative posture that seemed to draw the very essence of the hall into himself.
His weathered face, marked by the passage of time, reflected a serene wisdom, while the gentle rise and fall of his breath harmonized with the stillness around him.
As the dean opened his eyes, Anon's body unconsciously trembled, his heart thumping rapidly in his chest. But as a gentle smile spread across the dean's face, a warm sensation washed over Anon, dissipating any lingering darkness.
It was as if the very light of the hall had shifted, wrapping him in a comforting embrace.
"Come here," Veerabhadran Rao instructed, pointing to the floor before him. In an instant, a cushion manifested from thin air, its fabric vibrant and inviting. "Come have a seat."
As he spoke, an elusive feeling enveloped Anon, a gentle pull that seemed to guide him forward. Before he even realized it, he found himself standing before the cushion, compelled to sit.
Settling onto the cushion, Anon heard the dean's warm voice. "Happy seventeenth birthday, young one." The kindness in Veerabhadran Rao's eyes radiated warmth as he continued, "Among the many students, you're one of the youngest, yet so talented—already of the second world."
Sitting cross-legged, Anon pressed down on both of his knees with his palms and bowed his head slightly, expressing his gratitude. "Thank you for your kind words, Sir Veerabhadran Rao."
For someone to express such warmth, care, and comfort was a rare experience.
Yet, Anon's heart remained steady, unaffected even. Instead, he adopted a cool tone and asked, "May I ask why you've summoned me?"
"Young Anon," Veerabhadran Rao's voice resounded powerfully throughout the hall, "Tell me, what do you think of the military academy so far?"
Anon heard the question and remained silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts.
Finally, he spoke with genuine emotion, "It has been unlike anything I've experienced. Besides being challenging, with intense competitiveness between us students, it's also a place of pressure. Yet, it's a space of growth and has allowed me to build a deep sense of camaraderie with my peers."
His words hung in the air for a moment, but Anon's heart sank as he noticed the darkening of the dean's expression.
'Did I overdo it?!' His pupils dilated in a slight panic.
Obviously, what he was saying was utter bullshit, but what was he to say?
That the military academy lacked anything that truly challenged him? Or that he enjoyed taxing the so-called geniuses of the military academy?
"Heh... heh... heh..." Veerabhadran Rao suddenly burst forth with a strange chortle.
"Indeed, for a second world stellar fighter, it must've felt monotonous for you, Seth, Jacob, and the other freaks," the dean said, a smile spreading across his face, though it lacked the warmth of his earlier demeanor. "Worry not. What the founder has prepared for you all in the Blood-Drip Jungle is something only he could think of."
The dean let out a heavy sigh, his expression shifting to something more serious. "I only hope not too many die, but what do I know?"
Hearing this, Anon felt a mix of relief and apprehension.
But these were things he already knew, and as for this "founder", he deduced in one fell swoop that it was the "He" which Victoria referred to, meaning, his father, the creator of the military academy.
'So, father really is back.' Anon thought.
Though he had long assumed this since the last night of the camp when he had been visited, his assumptions were confirmed now.
'Does this mean that father has already seen through Seth?' Anon realized this, 'Then why hasn't he struck yet? But wouldn't Seth also expect this? Obviously, he wouldn't think that father would be off world for the length of time needed for me to become an Otherworldly Knight.'
Frowning inwardly, he concluded, 'Currently, it makes little sense to attempt figuring out the thoughts of these two. Father is above and beyond what I can comprehend, and Seth's background is layered with complexities.'
"Speaking of death," The dean interrupted Anon's thoughts, bringing him back to reality. All his previous expressions disappeared as a strange light shone in his eyes.
A light that Anon recognized.
'Huh?!'
"Anon," The dean's eyes were filled with pity as he slowly voiced these words, "This should be a blessed day for you, and I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you should know of a woman's death, one by the name of Mei Su?"
As these words fell, a heavy silence descended.
Anon's body trembled as his right eyelid twitched uncontrollably.
He remained silent for a while before taking a deep breath of air and replying, "Is that so?"
Internally though, he was in a mess, 'Hahaha, I really didn't expect it, but it happened,' Anon exclaimed inwardly, 'Those eyes really show pity don't they.'
'Pity? Me?!'
He didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
Some people desired others' pity, whilst some others despised it.
Instead of pitying me, help me!
That's what they think, but naturally, in this context, Anon did not seek help in some way, so he did not detest the dean's pity due to that.
More accurately, it was the very act of pitying him...
When Anon felt pity for Nickyle's death, it was solely because he could.
As a member of the living realm, he could feel pity for someone who had been submerged in the deathly cold aura of death.
When he pitied Nickyle's death, it was in an act of superiority that was done in an eloquent and refined manner, much to the degree one would expect of the young lord, the son of the human lord.
So, by pitying him, Anon couldn't help but feel as if the dean was also reveling in superiority.
It was something that infuriated him, and it was the same logic here, that applied when Seth daringly boasted of a ploy to kill his father.
One must understand that whatever path Anon walked on, it led to him killing his father, and as the son of the human lord, the death of the human lord would naturally see him become the human lord.
As the next in line to become the human lord, he could not accept anyone tarnishing that title.
Killing his father would never be as simple as Seth had suggested. The daringness and audacity of such a thought was maddening.
Staring into the dean's eyes, Anon calmed down.
He also understood the difference between him and others, and for the dean, he may not view it as an act of superiority.
More importantly, besides in status, the dean was beyond him in every way, shape, or form.
What could he, Anon, do even if he was enraged?
"I'll make an exception," Veerabhadran Rao said in an understanding tone. "I know of the relationship between you two, and I'm sure young Elizabeth also needs your support."
"So, although the funeral is today, I'll personally ensure you arrive in Blackridge district, and at the funeral, on time."
L’AVIS DES CRÉATEURS 
Six3
Six3 Happy birthday Anon.
Anyways, depending on wether you like this story and you'd like to support me, or like the story and don't, here's some news that can be good or bad... After sixty-three free chapters, and yes, Six3, sixty-three, it was intentional, cough! From the 64th chapter onward, I'll be going premium.
I've seen many books go premium earlier than fifty, at forty and thirty-ish at times, and as an author, I understand, but as a reader, I wanted to be slightly different. Plus, it coincides to make a nice little coincedence with my pseudonym so yeah, please, if you've got any ideas for my story, comment it and let me know, like it, add it to the library, and your gift is my motivation, so don't hold back.
Cadeaux
-- Cadeau
reçu État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
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Power Stone 
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