CHAPTER 44: FOX HUNT

The forest stretched before us, thick with tangled roots and dense foliage. The air was cool, but the lingering scent of sweat and smoke from our earlier battle clung to my clothes.

Class B was neutralized—tied up and left in a neat little pile under Garrick’s watchful gaze. Felix made sure the knots were tight, just in case any of them got ideas.

Now, we had a different prey.

"Julien, take the front," I said, motioning him ahead. "Your instincts are sharp enough to keep us from blundering into something stupid."

Julien cracked his knuckles. "Say no more."

"Mira, watch the flanks. If you see anything suspicious, don’t engage—just let me know."

She smirked. "Aw, you do care."

I ignored her.

"Leo, stay close to Felix. Leave him alone for a moment he will probably trip down on a leaf and injure himself."

Felix scoffed. "That happened one time."

Leo smirked. "It was a flat surface."

Felix grumbled something under his breath but didn’t argue.

"Garrick, you’re with me," I continued. "If we need to break through anything, you’re leading the charge."

Garrick cracked his knuckles. "Just say the word."

"Wallace you are going to keep the flag, also look after Cassandra."

Wallace blinked. "Wait, what? Why do I have to—"

"Because you’re the least likely to do something stupid," I said bluntly.

Wallace opened his mouth to argue, then hesitated. "...Fair point."

Cassandra, standing a little behind him, tilted her head slightly. Her expression was unreadable, as always.

I glanced at her. "You good with that?"

She gave a slow nod.

I wasn’t sure if that was a yes or just an acknowledgment, but it would have to do.

With everyone in position, we moved.

Julien led us deeper into the forest, stepping lightly as he scanned ahead. The path was uneven, roots twisting underfoot, but we kept up the pace. The trail Victor’s professor left was obvious—too obvious.

"Think this is a trap?" Mira murmured as she walked beside me.

"Absolutely," I said.

She grinned. "Good. Was getting bored."

We followed the tracks until Julien suddenly raised a hand, signaling a stop.

I crouched beside him. "What?"

He pointed ahead.

There, nestled between the trees, was a small clearing. In the center there was a small campfire, it was extinguished but still warm. Someone had been here recently.

Felix leaned in. "Maybe they left in a hurry?"

"Or they’re watching us right now," Mira murmured, scanning the trees.

She wasn’t wrong. The forest felt too still. No rustling leaves, no distant chirps—just silence, thick and unnatural.

I signaled for everyone to stay low.

Julien motioned to the ground. "Footprints. A lot of them."

I followed his gaze. The tracks were scattered, some leading into the undergrowth, others circling back. Deliberate misdirection. Someone didn’t just leave in a hurry. They wanted to look like they did.

"Victor’s professor," I muttered. "He’s setting a trap."

Leo groaned. "Because of course he is."

Garrick tightened his grip on his training sword. "So what’s the move?"

I exhaled. "We spring it. On our terms."

Felix’s face twisted in horror. "You want to trigger the trap?"

"Better than waiting for them to pounce on us," I said. "We take control of the battlefield. Julien, Mira—flank wide and watch for movement. Garrick, you and I go in first. If anyone jumps out, we smash through them. Wallace, stay back with Cassandra and keep an eye on the flag. Felix—"

Felix winced. "Bait?"

I patted his shoulder. "You’re catching on."

Leo clapped him on the back. "I’ll be bait with you, buddy."

Felix groaned. "That doesn’t make it better."

Ignoring his suffering, we moved into position.

Julien and Mira disappeared into the trees, silent as shadows. Garrick and I stepped forward, slow but deliberate. Felix and Leo crept behind us, tense and ready to bolt.

Nothing happened.

The silence stretched.

Then—

Snap.

A blur of movement.

A figure burst from the shadows.

Not a student.

Professor Kellan.

His uniform was unbuttoned at the collar, dark eyes sharp with amusement. "Class C. I should’ve known you’d cause trouble."

I smirked. "Nice trap. Shame it didn’t work."

Kellan chuckled. "Who said it didn’t?"

Then he snapped his fingers.

More figures stepped out of the trees.

Not just the professor Kellan, the high ranking students of class B came out.

Leo let out a strangled noise. "Oh, we’re so dead."

I clicked my tongue. Damn it.

Professor Kellan alone was already a headache. He wasn’t just some random instructor—he was a combat specialist. And now, Class B’s elites were standing behind him, looking far too smug for my liking.

Julien cursed under his breath from the treeline. "This is so rigged."

Mira’s voice came through low. "Orders?"

I scanned the field. The high-ranking students weren’t just for show. I recognized some of them—Victor’s inner circle. His best duelists, his fastest scouts. This wasn’t just an ambush. It was a flex.

Kellan clapped his hands together. "Now, I could say something dramatic like, ’You should surrender,’ but let’s be honest—" His smirk widened. "You won’t."

Garrick shifted beside me, muscles tensing. "We’re fighting, aren’t we?"

"Oh, absolutely," I muttered.

Felix groaned. "Professor, please, for once, let’s not—"

I took a step forward. "We’re fighting."

Kellan nodded approvingly. "Good choice." Then his expression turned sharp. "Try to make it interesting."

And then he moved.

I barely had time to react before he closed the gap, faster than any instructor had the right to be.

A test.

He wasn’t going for the kill—just a lesson. But I wasn’t about to play the helpless student.

I raised my arm, "I don’t want use this. But you leave me no choice."

I quickly drew a triangle with a square in it on the air, then chanted. "Oh, great spirit of fire, heed my call—"

Heat flared at my fingertips as mana surged, igniting into a controlled blaze. But before I could complete the incantation—

Kellan moved.

He closed the gap in a heartbeat, his hand snapping up. "No, you don’t."

I felt the shift in mana before I saw it—his presence crashing down like a storm. Wind magic erupted around him, the sudden pressure snuffing out my forming spell before it could fully manifest.

My body tensed. He disrupted my casting?

Kellan’s smirk widened slightly. "Impressive reaction time, Drelmont. But don’t rely on verbal chants in close combat."

Then he struck.

I barely twisted in time to avoid a direct hit. His palm grazed my shoulder instead of slamming into my ribs, but the sheer force sent me skidding backward.

Damn it. This wasn’t like fighting students.

This was a professor. A trained combatant who knew exactly how to dismantle unpolished fighters.

"Professor, your spell failed," Felix called helpfully from behind me.

"Thank you, Felix," I gritted out, catching my balance.

Kellan didn’t press forward immediately. He watched, assessing. "Fire magic’s not bad. But you’ll need more than raw power against me."

Around us, Class B’s elites spread out, closing in on my students. Mira and Julien stayed hidden, waiting for the right moment. Garrick stood his ground, muscles tensed. Wallace clutched the flag tighter. Cassandra, as always, was unreadable.

I exhaled. "Flame Lance."

A spell ignited in my palm—an instant cast.

In Sword of Radiance, spells fell into two categories: instant cast and verbal casting. Instant casts were weaker but faster, while verbal casting was stronger but left the caster vulnerable.

In a real fight, flexibility mattered more than raw strength.

Kellan’s smirk faltered, just for a second.

Then Flame Lance shot forward.

Fast. Too fast for him to counter mid-motion.

His eyes widened, and he twisted, but not fast enough.

The lance pierced his left thigh.

A sharp hiss of pain escaped him, though he masked it quickly. He staggered back, blood seeping through his uniform.

Julien, still hidden, let out a soft, disbelieving whistle. "Did he just—"

"He actually landed a hit," Mira finished, her voice carrying a hint of delight.

Felix’s jaw dropped. "Wait, does that mean we can win?"

"Focus!" I snapped.

Kellan exhaled, rolling his shoulders. His smirk returned, but it wasn’t quite as cocky anymore.

"Instant cast and verbal chants?" He let out a soft chuckle. "Didn’t expect that from you, Drelmont."

I didn’t respond. My heart was pounding, but I kept my breathing steady.

That hesitation—it was the first real opening I’d seen.

"Garrick!" I barked.

He didn’t need further instruction. With a roar, he charged.

Kellan shifted, but his injured leg slowed him for just a moment—just enough for Garrick to close the gap.

A heavy swing arced toward Kellan’s side.

A test. Would he block? Dodge? Counter?

Kellan grinned.

Then he stomped his injured leg into the ground.

A shockwave of wind exploded outward.

Garrick was blasted backward. I barely managed to brace myself before the force knocked me back as well.

I hit the ground hard, rolling to a stop.

Damn it.

Kellan straightened, shaking out his leg like the injury was a minor inconvenience. Blood still dripped down, but his stance was solid.

"Alright," he said, cracking his neck. "Lesson’s over."

His presence shifted.

Less amusement. More intent.

He was done playing around.

I exhaled sharply.

Mira, Julien—whatever you’re planning, do it now.