CHAPTER 306: TRAINING (2)

The wind carried a faint scent of ozone.

By the time the illusion faded fully, the world outside the barrier felt strangely peaceful, like the chaos of the simulated battlefield had been nothing but a fever dream.

Merlin sat at the edge of the field, shirt sleeve torn where the blade had cut him. Blood had dried, crusting faintly over the shallow wound.

Nathan crouched beside him, tossing him a small canister. "Here. Morgana’s version of disinfectant."

Merlin caught it, twisting the cap open. The stinging smell hit instantly. "This smells like death."

Nathan grinned. "So it’s probably working."

Elara, standing a few steps away, crossed her arms. "You should’ve dodged. That construct wasn’t subtle."

Merlin looked up at her with a small smirk. "Maybe I wanted to test its damage output."

Her eyes narrowed. "You’re impossible."

"Efficient," he corrected.

Nathan snorted. "You call bleeding efficient now?"

Merlin dabbed at the wound with gauze, the pain sharp and immediate. "In some cases."

Elara sighed, her tone softening despite herself. "You can’t always push through things by acting like they don’t hurt."

For a second, her words hung there, heavier than intended. Merlin blinked once, then nodded faintly. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I know."

Nathan, realizing the shift in tone, stood up quickly. "Anyway! I’m starving. You two lovebirds can heal in peace, I’m heading to the mess hall."

"Lovebirds?" Elara’s ears twitched slightly, her face instantly coloring. "Nathan—"

But he was already walking away, hands shoved in his pockets, grin wide and knowing.

Merlin glanced up, fighting the smile tugging at his lips. "You really need to work on your reactions."

She turned sharply, cheeks still faintly pink. "You really need to stop provoking them."

"I didn’t say anything."

"You don’t have to."

Silence followed, but it wasn’t awkward, not anymore. It was... comfortable. The kind that felt earned.

Elara knelt beside him, her hands glowing faintly with green light. "Hold still."

He tilted his head slightly. "You’re using mana for this?"

"Just a little." Her voice was quiet, focused. "It’ll speed it up."

Her palms hovered just above the wound. A soft pulse of earth energy seeped into his skin, soothing the sting, closing the shallow cut slowly but steadily.

Merlin watched her, his golden eyes catching faint light from her spell. "You’ve gotten better."

"I had a good reason to practice."

"Oh? What reason?"

She hesitated, still looking at his shoulder. "...You get hurt too often."

He blinked, and then let out a small laugh, low and genuine. "Fair."

The glow dimmed. The wound was gone, only a faint line left behind.

Elara stood, brushing off her hands. "You should rest."

"Later." Merlin rose, stretching his arm experimentally. "Morgana said that was our first evaluation as a unit. That means there’ll be more."

"Obviously."

"Then rest can wait."

She shook her head. "You’re incorrigible."

"Stubborn," he corrected again.

"Same thing."

By the time they reached the dorm complex, the sun had already begun dipping low, warm orange spilling over the horizon. The academy grounds glowed faintly, lampposts humming with mana light as students wandered about in small groups, the day’s training sessions ending.

Nathan was sitting outside their dorm, eating what looked suspiciously like leftover pastries from the cafeteria.

"Took you two long enough," he said through a mouthful. "I was about to file a missing persons report."

Elara rolled her eyes. "You’d file it with the wrong office."

"Details."

Merlin leaned against the doorframe. "You saved any for us?"

Nathan looked down at the bag in his lap. "I did. Then I got hungry."

Elara sighed. "You’re impossible."

Merlin smirked. "Efficient."

Nathan groaned. "Don’t start with that again."

The three of them laughed, a quiet, tired, genuine sound. It carried faintly through the dorm corridor, mixing with the murmur of other students returning from training.

That night, Merlin couldn’t sleep.

He sat by the window, moonlight spilling across the room. The academy’s lights shimmered in the distance, faint, steady, too calm.

’She said we’d need it.’

Morgana’s words still echoed in his head. Her tone hadn’t been warning, it had been matter-of-fact. Like she already knew something was coming.

He looked at his hand, flexing his fingers. Lightning flickered faintly at the tips before fading.

’In the novel, this shouldn’t happen yet,’ he thought. ’But timelines shift. The butterfly effect is real.’

A faint chime from his wristband snapped him out of his thoughts, a message.

[Notice: Special Division 2A – Mission Briefing Tomorrow, 0600.]

So it begins.

He shut the notification off and leaned back against the window. The city stretched out below, silent, gleaming, alive.

For once, he didn’t feel like a reader looking into a story.

He felt like he was already deep inside one — and this time, the next Chapter wasn’t written.

Morning broke cold and sharp.

The academy courtyard shimmered under the early light, dew clinging to the marble tiles, steam rising faintly from the enchantment vents that kept the paths warm through the chill.

Merlin stood near the assembly platform, gloved hands in his pockets, coat collar pulled high against the wind. He’d been awake since before dawn. The message had been simple "Report to the eastern training ground at 0600."

Simple messages rarely meant simple things.

He glanced sideways as Elara arrived, her long coat fluttering behind her, silver hair pulled into a loose braid that caught the morning sun. Her expression was calm, but there was a faint crease between her brows.

"You’re early," Merlin said.

"So are you," she replied, stopping beside him. "Couldn’t sleep?"

"Could say the same."

For a while, they stood in silence, watching the rest of their year trickle in, groups forming around instructors, whispers echoing low in the cold air.

Nathan appeared next, yawning wide enough to crack his jaw. "You two look like you haven’t blinked since last night," he muttered, rubbing his eyes.

Elara’s tone was dry. "You look like you didn’t even try to wake up."

"I didn’t," he said proudly.

Merlin hid a smirk. "Efficient."

Nathan groaned. "Not that again."

Before Elara could retort, the sound of boots on stone cut through the murmur. The students straightened almost instinctively as Headmistress Morgana stepped into the courtyard.

Her presence had always been something that silenced noise without effort. Not because she demanded it, but because the world itself seemed to pause when she entered. Her long coat flowed like living shadow, black hair falling freely over her shoulders, her silver eyes bright and cold as a storm’s core.