The path to the school training grounds was usually a straightforward one, but today our progress was interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps closing in from behind. Kael was the first to react, turning with a curious glance. The rest of us followed his gaze, and to our collective surprise, we saw Chris jogging to catch up. He offered a wave that seemed both rushed and oddly formal, a gesture that didn't quite fit the casual school environment.
"Everyone," he said, a little out of breath. "I need to talk to you. It's important."
We gathered around him, a small, curious circle on the sun-drenched path. The moment he started speaking, I could feel the shift in the air. The topic was Cain, a name that alone was enough to make everyone tense. Chris began to explain, his voice low and serious. He revealed that his presence at the academy was not merely as a student. His true role was that of a guard, assigned to protect Cain and report on his well-being. His mission was simple in theory: monitor and observe, only stepping in during extreme situations.
"But after the last expedition," Chris continued, his expression darkening, "everything changed. After losing Zara... the young master has not been himself. My duties have increased because his behavior has become so unpredictable. I didn't know what else to do, so I came to you."
The confession hung heavily between us. He further explained that Cain's current team was largely a facade, assembled for political convenience rather than genuine camaraderie. They were all there to build connections with his powerful family, with no real understanding or bond between them. The atmosphere grew thick with a somber understanding until Wren, ever the one to cut to the heart of the matter, interrupted.
"Wait," he said, his brow furrowed. "Were they engaged? Like, one of those arranged marriages nobles are always doing?"
Chris simply nodded in confirmation, and I felt a sharp, sympathetic pang in my chest. I knew all about that kind of thing. It wasn't exclusive to this world. Back in my old life, politicians and powerful families did the same, forging alliances through matrimony, treating relationships as transactions.
Wren then pressed on, asking the question we were all thinking. "So what are we supposed to do? How do we fit into all of this?"
It was then that Chris's eyes found mine. He looked at me, straight on, his gaze intense and unwavering. I could feel a prickle of sweat on the back of my neck. A deep, sinking feeling told me exactly where this was heading. I was going to be the one thrust into the center of this mess. So, I forced myself to listen carefully, knowing my role was already being decided for me.
Chris laid out the plan. He said that Cain was usually at the practical grounds, relentlessly attacking training dummies, taking all his anger and grief out on them.
"Since when?" Raven asked, his voice laced with concern.
"Since the weekend holiday," Chris replied. "He barely left his room. He didn't even speak to his parents. He just... shut down until the break was over."
The pressure on me intensified with every word. Chris turned back to me, his plea clear and direct. "Please, Adam. I need your help. You have to try and befriend him. Cheer him up. All he does is blame himself, thinking that if he had been stronger, Zara would still be alive."
At those words, the color drained from my face. Befriend him? The idea felt ludicrous, almost dangerous. Cain had publicly accused me of killing her. He stood there after the expedition and claimed that if I had acted faster, she might not have died. Those words still haunted my own sleepless nights. He carried a palpable resentment toward me, a bitterness I felt every time we were in the same room. How in the world was I supposed to break through that wall of hatred and grief?
This was an impossible task. And yet, a colder, more pragmatic part of my mind reasoned that maybe I had to try. If I didn't, would this fester? Would it lead to him waiting for me in some shadowy alley on my way home, hooded and seeking vengeance? The mental image was enough to solidify my reluctant resolve. Fine. Let's just get this over with.
I gave a single, grim nod. Leaving the rest of the group behind, I walked with Chris towards the practical training grounds. The sounds of combat grew louder as we approached the metallic clang of a weapon striking its target, over and over again, with no rhythm but that of pure fury.
And there he was. Cain, isolated in a field of worn-down dummies, a chakram gleaming in his hands. He was a whirlwind of controlled violence, striking the practice dummy with a ferocity that was terrifying to behold. The magical construct flickered, its mana reserves visibly depleting as it struggled to constantly restore its shredded parts. I paused at the edge of the field, a cold knot of fear tightening in my stomach. The memory of the tournament, of his fierce and unrelenting style, flashed in my mind. Was this just training, or was he truly spilling bloodlust?
Chris tapped me gently on the shoulder. "This is where I leave you," he murmured. "Part of my mission is to remain unseen. He can't know I'm here. I'll be watching from a safe distance."
And just like that, I was alone. Taking a deep, steadying breath, I forced one foot in front of the other and began to walk across the field. My heartbeat, which had been a frantic drum in my ears, began to slow and steady, matching the pace of my steps. Each one brought me closer to the storm of grief that was Cain, and there was no turning back now.