CHAPTER 58: THE COMBATANTS

A brilliant morning sun bathed the courtyard of the Knights’ Academy in golden light. Students had gathered from every year, lining up across the stone pathways and balconies. A large circular platform had been erected at the center of the grounds, carved with the sigil of the Academy and the emblem of Sylvanna itself. Professors stood in a dignified semicircle, their robes fluttering in the wind, while whispers rippled through the sea of uniforms.

Then the principal appeared.

Clad in white and blue ceremonial robes, Principal Arkhan Valefort ascended the stage, his staff clicking against the marble. His aged eyes, deep-set under sharp brows, swept over the assembled students like a hawk watching over its flock.

With a slight nod, a professor cast an amplifying spell. Arkhan’s voice carried clearly to every corner of the campus.

"Students of the Knights’ Academy," he began, "today, I stand before you not as your principal, but as a witness to history."

The air stilled.

"You have heard the words of the Five Races. You have seen the banners raised, the unity declared, and the challenge issued. The Joint Combat Meet, hosted this year by Vaykara, the continent of the Beastkin, has extended an invitation to us—to you."

A breathless murmur passed through the crowd.

"This is not merely a tournament. It is an opportunity. The world watches now not just for strength, but for harmony, for diplomacy, for pride in one’s roots. Sylvanna will not be absent from this gathering of legends."

He paused.

"As such, this Academy has the honor of selecting its combatants, who will represent not only our institution, but the entire human continent."

Silence.

Then, he raised his staff and pointed toward the senior wings.

"For third and fourth years, you will select your own representatives. No interference from the Academy. Discuss among yourselves, choose your strongest. Your honor and responsibility are yours alone to carry."

Then, turning toward the younger half of the field:

"For first and second years, your path will be different. You will compete in a mock combat event, where your capabilities will be judged not by your peers—but by your professors."

Gasps.

Excited chattering broke out among the first-years. Some cheered. Others gulped in nervous anticipation.

"The top four combatants, regardless of year, will be selected as official representatives for Paradise. Additional students may accompany as reserve observers or support roles."

The principal gave a final nod and stepped back. The stage was now hers.

With a composed and regal step, Alicia Rowan approached the platform.

Her presence silenced the crowd.

Wearing her dark navy blazer with the red-stitched emblem of the student council, she bowed respectfully toward the senior wings, where many fourth and third years stood with folded arms and raised brows.

"With due respect to my seniors, may I speak?"

A brief pause.

Then a nod—from Ruvell, the sword dueling champion of the fourth years.

And another—from Professor Emeritus Harnell, who stood as an unofficial mentor to the senior class.

That was enough.

Alicia faced the crowd with a clear voice, devoid of hesitation.

"It is my belief that this Combat Meet is more than a spectacle. It is a turning point. Our Academy—our kingdom—will be judged by how we present ourselves before the world. And that begins here, now."

She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t need to.

"To the seniors: choose wisely. Your choices will define the image of Sylvanna to the other races. If politics cloud your judgment, it will be the younger generations who will bear the burden."

Her gaze briefly met a few notable faces in the third-year group. Some shifted uncomfortably. Others smirked.

"To the juniors: prove yourselves. This is not about lineage. Not about your family name. This is about what you can do under pressure, in front of gods and monsters alike."

She gave a short bow and stepped back.

A beat of silence.

Then, slowly, applause. Polite at first. Then growing louder. The seniors nodded in approval. Even the stricter professors allowed the corners of their lips to curl upward.

The message was received.

The selection process had begun.

The next three days would be chaos.

And within that chaos—opportunity waited.

***

"Alright, I have got the gist.", I said to Monica.

Inside the capital itself, there is an adventurer’s guild, to provide missions, and coins in exchange, if you complete it.

I have registered myself as an E rank adventurer, to earn some money, in order to satisfy my needs.

And, most of the people here, are from outside the capital, and mostly commoners, so none of them recognises me.

This would be my message gathering based point, from which I would gain information about various events and such, and calculate my next plan.

Currently I am investigating the Rowan family circumstances, and Monica was the most suitable informer, so I called her here.

Without much fuss or questions, she told me whatever she knew about the Rowan family.

Well, basically, not much.

I already knew that much from the novel, so it wouldn’t be of much help.

But the next piece of information was important.

Who would go to the Joint Combat Meet as combatant, and who would go as supporter?

That would be declared through a mock battle among first years and second years, I guess individually.

Monica drank the last sip of tea she had ordered.

"By the way, why do you want to know about the Rowan Family?", she raised a question.

"....Nothing, just curious after seeing that Cedric Rowan in that dungeon.", I replied, lie mixed in with truth.

Telling her the truth is out of the question.

Moreover, I am just using her to gain more information, so why should I tell her my plans?

"Oh, alright.", she replied looking a little dissatisfied from my answer.

Her position in my plan was clear.

The Academy, and me, between us, she is the only connecting link.

So I will use her , however needed, to execute my plans in the academy.

Moreover, she has become a little more trustworthy, so risks of betrayal have lessened, but not eradicated.

So I have to be aware of her as a potential threat too.

Now, for the most important part, I wanted to say her.....

"Monica, make sure you are chosen as one of the Combatants, from first year."

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Next : Arousal Of The Vampires

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