CHAPTER 20: SUPPLIES

Morning came too fast.

I didn’t get much if a sleep, all night I was thinking about how to prepare for the survival camp.

I’m certain that both Gale and Halloran would pull something to endanger both me and my students and I need to prepare for that as well.

I sighed, rubbing my face. My body was awake, but my brain still felt half-dead.

No point in lying around. I pushed myself up, got dressed, and grabbed my coat. If I wasn’t going to get proper sleep, I might as well be productive.

Stepping outside, the academy grounds were quiet. Most students were probably still in bed, but that wouldn’t last. I had a small window before the chaos of the day kicked in.

First order of business—supplies.

I needed to figure out what the academy would provide for the camp and what I’d have to handle myself. Food, water, emergency gear—all of it mattered.

Second—tools and some sort of weapons.

The academy wasn’t going to hand us anything beyond the bare minimum. I needed to check what was available and fill in the gaps myself.

That meant a trip to the armory.

It was located near the training grounds, a sturdy stone building with reinforced doors. Most students weren’t allowed in unless supervised, but instructors had access as long as they logged their requests.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The scent of oiled metal and aged wood filled the air. Shelves lined the walls, stacked with weapons, training gear, and survival equipment. And behind the counter, as expected, was Dale.

Middle-aged, grumpy, and built like a retired mercenary, Dale had been running the armory for years. He handled all requests personally, making sure nothing went missing without proper documentation.

He looked up as I approached, barely lifting his head from the ledger he was scribbling in.

"What do you need?"

"Hunting spear, utility knives, flint-and-steel, rope," I listed.

"Survival camp prep?"

"Yeah."

Dale grunted, flipping through the records. After a moment, he nodded and got up, heading to the back. I waited, arms crossed, listening to the clatter of equipment being sorted.

A few minutes later, he returned and set everything on the counter. Then he grabbed his quill and pointed at the ledger.

"Sign here."

I took the quill and scribbled my name. Dale scanned it, gave a short nod, and waved me off.

"Try not to lose anything. You break it, you replace it."

"No promises."

He snorted, "Come and pick up the things when the survival camp starts."

I nodded and left the armory, stepping back into the crisp morning air.

One thing handled. Now onto the next.

Next stop—the logistics office. If I wanted to know exactly what the academy was providing, I needed to check the supply lists myself.

The office was in the administration wing, a place I usually avoided unless necessary. It was filled with staff who either took their jobs too seriously or not seriously enough.

When I arrived, the clerk at the front desk barely glanced up. "Instructor name?"

"Lucian Drelmont."

She flipped through some documents, pulled one out, and handed it over. "Each class has its own assigned supply kit for the survival camp. This is Class C’s."

I took the list and skimmed through it.

Basic rations.

Standard tents.

Minimal medical kits.

Two enchanted lanterns.

And that was it.

I frowned. "This is everything?"

The clerk nodded. "Instructor Halloran was in charge of supply allocation. He approved all the lists."

I clenched my jaw. Halloran was responsible for distributing the academy-provided kits, and of course, he’d given my class the bare minimum.

"What about the other classes?"

The clerk hesitated, but I kept staring. Finally, she sighed and pulled out another document. "For comparison, here’s Class A’s list."

I scanned it.

Higher-quality rations.

Reinforced tents.

Expanded medical kits.

Mana-infused torches.

Basic warding runes for campsite protection.

Survival potions.

I let out a slow breath.

Halloran wasn’t even trying to hide it. He had outfitted the elite classes with everything they needed while leaving Class C to struggle.

I set the document down. "Who do I talk to about adjustments?"

The clerk gave me a pointed look. "Requests go through Instructor Halloran."

Of course they do.

I exhaled through my nose and nodded. "Understood."

Fine. If the academy wasn’t going to make things easier, I’d handle it myself.

I left the office, rolling my shoulders to shake off the frustration. Halloran clearly wanted to make things difficult for me and my students, but I wasn’t about to let him win that easily.

I needed alternatives.

The academy wouldn’t give me better supplies, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t find them elsewhere.

As I were thinking about the alternatives the familiar transparent window popped up again infront of me.

___

[System Log]

— Designation: Lucian Drelmont

— Status: Instructor (Noctis Ardentis Academy)

— Assignment: Class C

[Active Directives:]

— Maintain Instructor Status and gain the trust of Class C.

— Survive the Black Stone Mountain survival camp with the bare minimum supplies.(New)

[Reward For Completion:]

—Class C students trust +20, Ring of Cernex.

[Penalty For Failure:]

— Immediate Expulsion & ???

___

Great. Another directive.

I stared at the screen, focusing on the new entry.

Survive the Black Stone Mountain survival camp with the bare minimum supplies.

The system wasn’t just acknowledging how screwed I was—it was making it an official challenge.

I shifted my attention to the rewards.

Class C students trust +20. That was valuable. Getting them to trust me was already an uphill battle, and this would give me a solid boost.

But the real prize was the Ring of Cernex.

I had no idea what it did, but since it’s a named item it should be useful. And if the system is offering it as a Reward then it’s definitely worth it.

Named artifacts weren’t just random trinkets. They usually had history, power, or both. And considering how much I needed an edge, I wasn’t about to ignore it.

I dismissed the screen with a flick of my fingers, my mind already shifting to my next steps.

For fuck’s sake I can’t gather anymore supplies due to the new directive, That was the catch.

The directive wasn’t just a challenge—it was a restriction. If I tried to gather more supplies, I had no doubt the system would interfere, one way or another.

If I pushed my luck, maybe my newly acquired gear would just... vanish. Or I’d find myself mysteriously unable to use it when it mattered. The system had been vague about penalties before, and I wasn’t eager to test how far it would go.

I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply.

Alright. No extra supplies. That meant I had to work with what I had.

The tents were flimsy, the rations were basic, and the medical kits were a joke. But I still had my students, and if I played this right, I could turn our disadvantages into strengths.

Training. Preparation. Strategy.

If we couldn’t rely on better gear, then we’d have to rely on ourselves.

I glanced at the rising sun, my jaw tightening.