The instructor pushed himself up slowly, breathing hard. Blood dripped from his split lip, staining the training mat beneath him. He stared at Kassie, then at me, then back at Kassie — like he was trying to piece together a puzzle that didn't make sense.
Something shifted in his expression. Calculation replacing shock.
"Mortal tier," he said, spitting blood. "You actually expect me to believe that?"
"I don't care what you believe, sir." My voice came out steadier than I felt. "That's what she is."
He straightened, glancing briefly at his summon before locking eyes with me again. The weight of his stare pressed down like he was trying to see through my skull. "So... your summon is a Striker class."
I gave him an obedient look, the kind that screamed 'eager student.'
'You'd be shocked if you knew the truth.'
For now, everyone seemed fooled by Kassie's combat prowess, blind to the true extent of her ability. Still, I wanted to test it for myself. I knew what kind of effect Emperor's Presence had — the suffocating weight, the instinctive fear — and watching Kassie use her own skills would help me understand it better. Help me understand her better.
The instructor held my gaze a moment longer, then nodded. "Good fight, Cade Marlowe. Plenty have underestimated you. You make up for your weakness with sharp instincts." He glanced at the rest of the class, gesturing vaguely in my direction like I was some kind of teaching moment.
I caught Derek's eye, raised my chin, and dragged my thumb across my throat with a cocky grin.
The way his face twisted — absolutely satisfying.
"But at the end of the day, F-rank is still F-rank." The instructor's voice cut through my momentary victory. "You might've beaten a Regular Spirit Summoner like me, but Heroic Spirit Summoners like your classmates? They'll crush you."
My victorious pride died instantly.
'What the hell?'
I wanted to argue — wanted to point out that I'd just won, that my summon had put him on his ass — but that wasn't the point of this. So I swallowed it down and returned to the line while he continued the lecture, his words washing over me like cold water.
***
Days blurred together after that.
Academy courses expanded and actually proved useful. Combat theory, spirit mechanics, gate protocols — stuff that might actually keep me alive. Everyone improved with their summons, including me. Or at least on the surface.
Kassie never caused problems when we were around others. She always acted in my best interest, playing the role of obedient summon with disturbing ease. And she showed incredible growth through combat lessons, which helped me too. I was slowly getting the hang of throwing punches and swinging swords, my body adapting to the rhythm of violence.
Still, compared to people who received combat attributes from their Summons — enhanced strength, speed, reflexes — I was like a mouse trying to race a horse.
After three weeks of intense training, the announcement finally came: our first practical experience.
Spirit Gates.
Everything in the world was made of spirit. The ratio of spirit concentration ranged from negligible to overwhelming. Wild beasts had spirit essence too, but so little it didn't matter — they were just mundane animals, no more dangerous than a wolf or bear. Spirit beasts, however, had high concentrations of spirit flowing through them like liquid fire.
That made them dangerous.
Even space and time were created by spirit flowing from the Great Spirit River, and that connection was imperfect. Human activity strained the link. When it leaked, a gate opened, flooding a region with spirit and transforming even wild beasts into spirit beasts. Worse, stronger Spirit Beasts lived inside the gates — creatures that had never known anything but that concentrated essence.
If they weren't stopped fast, entire regions could be overrun.
This was why Summoners were priceless in Ealdrim. Regular Summoners were valuable, but Heroic Spirit Summoners? Invaluable. The difference between a town surviving or being wiped off the map.
Instructor Stanley left after telling us to prepare for gate exploration tomorrow, his words heavy with unspoken warnings.
I grabbed my things and headed out. Surprisingly, Derek had been quiet since that day. He still made small threats — muttered comments, aggressive shoulder checks in the halls — but when his minions tried to escalate, he shut them down.
I figured there were reasons for that.
First, the hierarchy was crystallizing. Kai sat at the top, his combat abilities skyrocketing with every session. The guy moved like violence was his first language. Right behind him was Elena — the girl with the Russian accent. She was becoming a monster in her own right, all cold precision and devastating efficiency.
Maxwell and Priscilla had their own followings, though Maxwell usually dodged attention like it carried a disease. All of them had fought multiple times, easily placing themselves above Derek. Except Priscilla — her battles with Derek always ended in a draw, both of them too stubborn to yield.
That was one reason Derek had backed off.
The other was—
"Do you live in the clinic?"
Elena's voice cut through my thoughts like a blade. Distinct, like always — that accent making every word sound deliberate. I turned and exhaled.
She'd been talking to me more lately. I hadn't figured out why yet.
"Yeah... I stay there."
She stared at me, her brown eyes catching the sunlight streaming through the hall entrance. Something about the way the light hit her face made her look less intimidating. Almost curious.
"I can put in a word with the Priests. They'd find you something better."
I grinned and laughed a little. "Thanks, Elena, but there's no place better than the clinic. Premium service you guys don't get."
She tilted her head, genuinely confused.
Almost made me laugh.
"Premium service? The bedding?"
I smiled and nodded, playing it off.
'If only you knew.'
"Then I should come to the clinic too?"
My eyes shot wide. "No! Absolutely not!"
She squinted at me, her expression shifting from confused to suspicious.
I forced my flustered heart to calm and rubbed the back of my neck. "I mean... you wouldn't want to sleep in a clinic anyway. The smell alone—" I gestured vaguely. "Do you need something?"
Her gaze dropped for a moment. Her face was usually cold, carved from ice, but now? Unreadable. Softer, maybe. Like she was working up to something.
"Your summon interests me. I don't care if she's a disaster or whatever." She paused, searching for words. "But you having a female summon... like me having one... I thought we could be friends."
Two girls appeared and grabbed her arms before I could respond.
"Elena, come on. Stop wasting time on the F-rank. Let's train — tomorrow's going to be rough."
Elena frowned at the girl on her right, her expression hardening instantly. "I'd like to be left alone. The F-rank and I have training plans."
They both looked at me expectantly, waiting for confirmation.
'Training plans? Since when?'
"It's alright, I don't need training. I'd like to sleep first."
I turned and walked away before the situation could get more complicated. Their voices carried after me, drifting down the hallway.
"Elena, you should hang out more with us. You're always trying to hang out with him, and he's so weak. No motivation to get stronger at all."
"Exactly. Listen to Charlotte — he's no good for you. We should form our own group. I have a Striker class and Resley has a Caster class. He also wants to join us."
I let the rest of their conversation fade as I made my way to the clinic, their judgment rolling off me like water.
'Weak. No motivation.'
Right. Because surviving this long as an F-rank took no effort at all.
The moment I stepped inside, the sharp scent of antiseptic and herbs washed over me — a smell that had somehow become comforting, almost like home. I paused just inside the doorway, breathing it in deeply before exhaling with relief.
This place had become my sanctuary. Strange how that worked.
Lira emerged from her office, her expression shifting the moment she saw me. "You're back?"
I flashed her a grin. "Nope. Just leaving, actually..."
She closed the distance between us in three steps, her movements fluid and purposeful. Then she was right there — close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from her body as she pressed against my chest. Her hands slid down my torso, trailing deliberately toward my waistband.
"I prepared something special for you," she murmured against my ear, her breath hot on my skin.
My heart raced.
Exactly what I loved to hear.
Her fingers found what they were looking for, grip firm on my dick as she kissed along my neck. Heat flooded through me, anticipation building with each touch, each deliberate movement—
And then she pulled back.
"Unfortunately, it'll have to wait."
I exhaled sharply, frustration written all over my face.
"Right. Training."