CHAPTER 63: DISCIPLE CULTIVATION SYSTEM CH63 MAKING ALLIES.

"Sup, ladies!"

A pair of crimson eyes focused through clean glasses glared down at Ellie and Cheshire from above. Their owner’s lips curled into a delighted smile—only for Cheshire to wipe it away by attacking him.

Placing one leg on the side of the truck, she leaped forward, her sword burning with azure Aura as it clashed with the newcomer’s.

"Chill, Cheshire, it’s just me!"

Her opponent, a black-haired youth, met her sword with his own and pleaded for her to stop, his arms groaning under the pressure of her attack.

"Damien!"

Taking in the sight of that clown, she sighed and sheathed her sword.

"Look, I don’t have time for your games. Just leave before I cut you down."

"Wait, I don’t mean any harm." He raised his hands in surrender. "I was just looking for someone to team up with."

"Are you serious?" Cheshire stared at him suspiciously.

"I am."He nodded. "I’ve already eliminated about twenty students. Now, I just need to make my way to the retirement zone, and I’ll be done. But the problem is..."

"The retirement zone," Ellie interrupted, her eyes closed.

"Exactly. I scouted around—turns out we’re in the North Zone, so our gatekeeper is Professor Grim."

The sudden mention of their class’s professor left them dismayed.

Professor Grim, a usual in these games, typically placed conditions on her students if they wished to pass her. It could be eliminating a certain number of students, landing a single strike on her, or even something as simple as rock-paper-scissors. The gist of it all was that she was unpredictable—hence, facing her alone was ill-advised.

"Had it been someone as straightforward as Professor Levi or Miss Cerci... heck, even Instructor Villier, I would’ve blazed through by myself. But no way I’m doing that with that woman. She gives me the creeps."

Pushing his glasses up with an unwilling look, he explained.

"So basically, you want to team up," Cheshire concluded, her katana back in its sheath.

"Yes!" Damien responded.

"I see. But why not just fight another gatekeeper?"

"..."

"Last I checked, we weren’t restricted to fighting the gatekeeper in the zone we spawned in."

"..."

"So why go through all this trouble when you can go fight Prof. Levi in the South or Cerci in the West?"

Damien facepalmed but still offered his argument.

"Don’t you think others have made the same decision?"

"I mean, it’s rather logical, knowing who Instructor Grim is."

"Exactly. So I say we challenge her. Many will avoid her, meaning the possibility of her softening her challenge might be high."

Ellie and Cheshire didn’t want to admit it, but his argument was actually really good.

"What do you say, Ellie?"

Of course, they still needed to be in agreement for a final decision to be made.

"I say we risk it," Ellie winked.

Facing any instructor was better than Art.

"We’ll work with you, then."

Their decision was made, and Damien was added to the group—turning the duo into a trio.

---

Teamwork.

The concept was born when an individual could not achieve a goal on their own, so they sought the company of others, joining forces to overwhelm their problem and achieve their objectives.

Frankly speaking... Trish believed teamwork was for the weak.

She had been groomed as a child to never rely on others except herself.

"You are a weapon... anything else is a distraction aimed at hindering your use."

Her grandmother had always told her that.

But she also wondered about something.

If she was a weapon, then who was her wielder?

A weapon relied on others to bring out its potential. In essence, if she couldn’t be wielded, wouldn’t that mean she was weak too?

Finding her thought process too abstract and distracting, she approached a heavily guarded building with hurried steps.

The building currently contained about a hundred students, all gathered under one exceptional student calling himself a king.

To gather all these people in such a short time required one to have already made arrangements outside, so it served to say this "King" was rather visionary.

And yet, Trish was unfazed by the numbers.

She hadn’t been noticed yet, but she doubted it would change anything.

She had a singular goal in coming here, and that was what she sought to achieve before she left.

So she walked... each step bringing her closer to the entrance, barricaded by a thick, enormous ice wall.

It was as if she had come in contact with a fortress—one she intended on demolishing.

Eventually, she met her first obstacle: a student on guard duty.

"Yo, who the hell are—"

Right as they began to speak, her sword flashed in a pale arc and cut them down.

Watching the student’s body break apart into fragments of light, she glanced at the next student guarding the gate.

He attempted to draw his blade, but she was faster. Before the student knew it, his head had been cut off, rolling to the ground with a shocked expression.

"It shouldn’t hurt that much!"

Pain was still felt, so she made their deaths as quick as possible. She didn’t want to traumatize anyone—just eliminate them and be done with it.

[Student Trish has accumulated 2 points.]

With the two guards eliminated, she breached the fortress and forced open its gates, entering a compound full of students who, due to their organization, one might mistake for soldiers.

They blinked at her appearance—not because it was sudden, but because of exactly who she was.

Trish Snowfield.

The daughter of the Twin Blades and the granddaughter of the Sword Saint.

She was among the reasons they had joined forces and united.

And now, she stood at their very gates.

Confident in their numbers, they each readied their weapons and charged forward, their assault causing the very ground to rumble.

Neutral to the volume of enemies running toward her, she casually strode forward.

Be it a hundred or even a thousand—as long as they were first-years, Trish was confident not even one of them could defeat her.