I Refuse the Tragic Ending

The next morning, Kael reported to the faculty office.

Professor Vista was waiting for him, accompanied by Professor Helen, who had been assigned to oversee his practical training.

Several documents lay on the table, including preliminary reports about the damaged sanctuary.

”Sit down, Student Grayford,” Vista instructed.

Kael took the offered chair.

”We’ve reviewed the initial accounts,” Vista began. ”Your swordsmanship appears to have played a significant role in redirecting the caster’s attacks.”

”I was mostly trying to keep them away from the pillar.”

”That much is obvious,” Vista replied. ”What interests us is how you managed it.”

Kael considered his answer.

He could describe the sensation he had experienced when his sword struck the dark magic. He could explain how he adjusted his blade’s angle and used the spell’s momentum against it.

But he couldn’t honestly claim to understand everything that had happened.

”I used the principles of my sword manual to redirect the force,” he explained. ”The mana around my blade helped interfere with the attack, but my control isn’t good enough for me to say exactly how it worked.”

Professor Helen nodded thoughtfully.

”At least you understand the limits of your own knowledge. That is a better starting point than assuming you have mastered something because it worked once.”

Kael considered her explanation before adding another detail.

”There was something else that helped,” he said. ”The moonstone I used when upgrading my sword. I don’t think I could have redirected those attacks with an ordinary weapon.”

Kael showed his sword.

Professor Helen took it and caressed the blade carefully.

”That is an important distinction. Moonstone has properties that can help a weapon interact with certain forms of magical energy. Your sword wasn’t simply enduring the dark magic. The enhancement likely helped it withstand the contact long enough for you to redirect its force.”

She gave him an approving smile before handing back the sword.

Kael took the sword she handed back.

”So it wasn’t just my technique,” he concluded.

Helen nodded and said, ”Your timing and technique mattered, but the moonstone was also a major factor.”

Professor Vista folded his hands.

”The incident in the Emerald Forest was not a normal examination failure. Someone deliberately attacked the students and attempted to destroy an ancient defensive formation. We do not yet know the identity of the caster or his objective.”

Kael listened carefully.

”We are investigating the incident,” Vista continued. ”Until we know more, students are prohibited from entering the Emerald Forest without authorization. The academy will also review its field examination procedures before approving future expeditions.”

Kael had expected as much.

It was unfortunate, but sending students back into a forest where an unknown caster had nearly killed them would hardly be sensible.

Professor Helen opened one of the documents.

”Your injuries should heal with sufficient rest. Afterward, I will supervise your mana-control training. Given what you demonstrated during the incident, it would be irresponsible to leave you experimenting without proper guidance.”

Kael blinked.

That was unexpected.

He had assumed the instructors would simply warn him against repeating the technique.

Instead, he was being offered supervision.

It was an opportunity he would be foolish to reject.

”Thank you, Professor. I’ll make good use of it.”

”I expect you to,” Helen replied. ”But understand something. Your success against that caster does not mean you can withstand stronger spells indefinitely. Your technique relied on timing, angle, and the ability to redirect force. Your mana control remains crude, and your physical condition limited how much pressure you could withstand.”

”I understand.”

”Good. Once the healer clears you, we’ll begin by examining how you circulate mana around your sword. We won’t attempt to reproduce the battlefield technique immediately.”

That suited Kael perfectly.

He didn’t get any rewards from that examination, however, he got to have a professor to supervise his training. That alone was a huge success.

...

The meeting ended shortly afterward.

Kael left the faculty office with more questions than answers, but also with a clearer direction for his next stage of development.

He would recover, begin supervised training with Professor Helen, and investigate the interaction between mana and swordsmanship.

It would not make him powerful overnight. But it would give him a foundation. And foundations were exactly what he needed.

That afternoon, Kael visited the academy library.

He had intended to spend the day resting, but a short visit would not strain his injuries. More importantly, he wanted to review the material he had gathered before the examination.

He found a quiet table and opened his notes.

Among them were observations copied from the old notebook he had discovered in the library, the one written by Professor Aldren.

Kael had already learned that Aldren’s research into body refinement and mana circulation was more practical than most of the academy’s introductory manuals. The notebook did not offer easy solutions, but it encouraged the reader to observe the body carefully and avoid forcing mana through pathways that could not yet handle it.

Kael returned to the relevant pages.

His recent experience had given those notes a new significance.

Mana was not merely a resource he could summon and circulate. Its movement depended on control, physical condition, and the body’s ability to withstand the flow.

During the battle, he had created a thin layer of mana around his sword and used his swordsmanship to redirect incoming magic.

It was an improvised method, not a complete technique.

If he wanted to develop it further, he needed to understand how mana behaved when it encountered different materials.

He searched the surrounding shelves and found a book describing the properties of enchanted weapons.

Most examples involved specially designed staffs or weapons with built-in mana channels. Ordinary swords received little attention because they were not intended to conduct magical energy.

The explanation made sense.

His sword had not been designed to channel magic. He had been relying on his own mana control to create a temporary layer around the blade, then using his swordsmanship to redirect the incoming force.

That meant he had several problems to solve.

He needed to stabilize the mana surrounding his blade, reduce the amount of energy wasted during contact, and develop enough physical conditioning to withstand the recoil.

Each problem was manageable.

Together, they would take time.

Kael copied several references into his notebook.

Then he found another book describing the relationship between ancient formations and their anchors.

Large defensive formations could distribute their functions among multiple structures. Destroying one anchor might weaken the entire formation without immediately disabling it, while altering the energy circuit could change how the formation responded to external forces.

Kael stopped reading.

The sanctuary’s formation had behaved in precisely that way.

Lilith’s adjustment had not made the pillar stronger. It had changed how the barrier interpreted incoming magic.

That distinction mattered.

A defensive formation did not always need more power to become more effective. Sometimes, the way it used that power was more important.

Kael copied the reference.

He had no intention of becoming a formation researcher, but understanding the basics could prove useful in the future.

Especially if he planned to explore the Moonlit Catacombs.

He closed the book and looked at his notes.

Swordsmanship.

Mana control.

Physical refinement.

Formation theory.

Dungeon exploration.

His next steps were becoming clearer.

He would train under Professor Helen, refine his mana circulation, and improve his physical condition. He would also want to continue studying the Moonlit Catacombs until he was ready to return.

He had missed his first opportunity.

He would not waste the next one.

Kael continued reading until he noticed someone standing on the opposite side of the table.

He looked up.

Lilith was holding a book.

”You’re still studying?” Lilith asked.

”Something like that,” Kael replied.

She glanced at the open notebook and then at the copied pages beside it.

”You’re researching the formation?” She asked.

”Partly. I wanted to understand about it,” Kael answered.

Lilith pulled out the chair opposite him and placed her book on the table.

”I see.”

She opened it and began reading without saying anything else. For several minutes, neither spoke. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. Lilith simply didn’t seem interested in filling it with unnecessary conversation.

Eventually, Kael looked up.

”Did you find anything useful about the sanctuary?” He asked.

”Not yet,” Lilith replied.

”Are you planning to study it further?”

Lilith turned a page.

”Only if I find something worth investigating.”

Kael raised an eyebrow.

”After what happened, I thought you’d be interested.”

”I was interested because the formation behaved differently from what I expected,” Lilith explained. ”Most formations aren’t worth spending time on. Once you’ve seen enough of them, the basic principles become predictable.”

Her gaze briefly shifted toward the notes in front of him.

”But that one was different. It was old, partially damaged, and still capable of adapting when its boundary circuit was modified.”

”So that’s what caught your attention,” Kael remarked.

”Among other things, yes,” Lilith replied.

She didn’t explain further.

Kael could understand her reasoning. Lilith wasn’t someone who would spend her time studying something simply because it existed. The emergency had forced her to examine the formation, and its unusual behavior had given her a reason to continue.

”By the way,” Lilith said, ”you helped keep the final pillar standing.”

”Several people contributed,” Kael replied.

”That wasn’t what I asked,” Lilith said, looking at him.

Kael met her gaze.

She rested one hand against the edge of the book.

”You redirected the caster’s attacks while the rest of us were working on the formation. Without that, we might not have had enough time.”

”I just help,” Kael answered.

Lilith’s eyes briefly moved toward his shoulder.

”Your injuries suggest that.”

Kael smiled faintly.

”Are you thanking me?”

”Would you prefer that I didn’t?” Lilith asked.

”Not particularly.”

”Then consider it a thank-you,” she replied.

Her expression remained almost unchanged.

She returned to her book, apparently finished with the conversation. Kael studied her for a moment before looking back at his notes.

He remembered that Lilith would eventually become the leader of the shadow group in the original game. She wasn’t someone who openly sought attention or went out of her way to build relationships with others.

Even now, she seemed perfectly content to focus on whatever interested her.

He decided not to force the conversation.

After a while, Lilith spoke again.

”Did you find something?” She asked.

”Some information regarding old formations. But nothing particularly detailed.”

”Then it might be useful to compare it with what I found,” Lilith suggested.

Kael considered the suggestion.

”Are you asking to exchange notes?”

”I’m saying that if you find something relevant, you can tell me,” Lilith replied.

”That’s a rather one-sided arrangement,” Kael remarked.

Lilith gave him a brief look.

”Then don’t.”

Kael chuckled.

”Fine. I’ll share what I find if you do the same.”

She gave a small nod before returning to her reading.

That was the extent of their agreement.

No promises of friendship, no unnecessary pleasantries. Just an exchange of information when either of them found something worth sharing.

For Lilith, that seemed sufficient.

Kael returned to his notes.

A few minutes passed before he noticed Lilith looking at his shoulder again.

”Something wrong?” He asked.

Lilith immediately lowered her gaze to her book.

”Your shoulder.”

”What about it?”

”You’re sitting awkwardly. If it hurts, you should stop pretending it doesn’t.”

Kael blinked.

He hadn’t expected her to notice.

”It’s manageable.”

”That’s not what I asked.”

He gave a faint smile.

”Are you worried about me?”

Lilith stopped turning the page. For a brief moment, she looked directly at him.

”Don’t misunderstand. I simply don’t want someone who helped keep the formation intact collapsing in the library. It would be troublesome if the staff started asking questions.”

”Of course,” Kael replied, suppressing a chuckle.

Lilith narrowed her eyes slightly.

”You’re laughing.”

”Not at all.”

”Yes, you are.”

Kael leaned back carefully.

”Then I’ll try to look more injured next time.”

”That would be even more troublesome,” Lilith muttered.

She returned to her book, though her attention seemed to wander for another moment. Kael found her reaction amusing, but he decided not to tease her further.

After all, she had only shown a little concern. There was no reason to make a big deal out of it.

A little later, Kael began gathering his notes.

”Leaving already?” Lilith asked.

”I’ve been sitting here for a while. I should get some rest.”

She glanced at his shoulder.

”That’s probably a good idea.”

Kael picked up his notebook with his uninjured hand.

”Thanks for the advice.”

”I wasn’t giving you advice,” Lilith replied.

”Then what was it?”

”An observation.”

”Right. An observation.”

Lilith looked away.

”Just go before you start making another unnecessary comment.”

Kael smiled.

”See you around.”

She didn’t immediately respond.

Only after he had taken a few steps did she speak.

”Don’t forget what you promised. If you find anything useful about the formation, let me know.”

Kael turned his head.

”I won’t.”

Lilith gave a small nod and returned to her book.

He left the library with a faint smile.

...

That evening, Kael returned to the dormitory and found the members of Team 37 gathered around a table.

The team just decided to make Kael’s room their headquarters just because he was.

Darius was inspecting his greatsword. Elias was restringing his bow. Mira had arranged several books and medical supplies beside her, while Quinn sat in the center of the table, attempting to steal a piece of dried fruit.

The scene looked almost ordinary. Kael pulled out a chair and sat down.

”What’s going on?”

Elias looked up.

”We’ve decided to become stronger.”

Kael glanced at Darius.

”That’s a surprisingly sensible decision. Who came up with it?”

”I did,” Darius answered.

”Then I take back the compliment.”

Darius gave him an unimpressed look.

Mira smiled faintly before speaking.

”We were discussing the examination. If we had been stronger, we might have been able to protect more people without exhausting ourselves so quickly.”

Her expression grew serious.

”I spent so much mana healing everyone that I could barely stand near the end. If another student had been injured, I might not have been able to help.”

”You kept a lot of people alive,” Kael reminded her.

”I know. But I also know I can improve.”

She looked down at her hands.

”I want to become a better healer. I want to learn how to conserve mana, treat more serious injuries, and protect myself when someone gets past the frontline.”

Kael nodded.

That was a sensible goal.

Mira had always been kind, but her willingness to help others sometimes came at the expense of her own condition. Learning to manage her mana more efficiently would make her a more reliable healer without forcing her to exhaust herself every time someone needed help.

”What about you two?” He asked.

Darius rested his hands on the table.

”I need to improve my endurance and learn how to fight enemies that don’t give me a clear opening. My strength is useful, but it doesn’t matter if I can’t reach the opponent.”

He glanced at his greatsword.

”I also need to stop relying on brute force whenever a fight becomes difficult.”

Elias raised a hand.

”And I need more arrows.”

Kael stared at him.

”That’s your conclusion?”

”No, that’s the first part. The second part is that I need better accuracy, better positioning, and a way to deal with enemies that can deflect ordinary arrows. But more arrows would still help.”

Darius snorted.

Elias shrugged.

”I’m an archer. Ammunition matters.”

Kael couldn’t argue with that.

”What about Quinn?” He asked, glancing at the spider.

Quinn raised its front legs proudly.

”Qiu!”

”It wants more food,” Elias translated.

”That isn’t training.”

”Tell that to Quinn.”

Kael rubbed his forehead.

Despite the joke, Quinn had also demonstrated considerable potential during the battle. Its silk had restrained undead, connected broken structures, and helped redirect a spell that would otherwise have destroyed the final pillar.

The familiar’s abilities were not limited to trapping enemies.

Its webbing could serve as a defensive tool, a method of controlling terrain, and even a means of influencing the direction of incoming attacks.

But Quinn’s silk had nearly failed under the caster’s concentrated magic.

It needed stronger threads, greater mana reserves, and better control over how it produced and anchored its webs.

Kael looked at the spider.

”We’ll work on your web strength and mana control too. But we’re not increasing your food allowance just because you helped save everyone.”

Quinn lowered its front legs.

”Qiu...”

”That’s final.”

Mira quietly placed a small piece of fruit in front of the spider.

Quinn immediately brightened.

Kael turned toward her.

”You’re undermining my authority.”

”I’m rewarding good behavior,” Mira replied softly.

”That’s how it starts.”

Elias and Darius laughed.

For a while, they continued discussing their plans.

Their goals were different, but the conclusion was the same.

They could not rely on Kael to solve every problem, nor could they expect their current abilities to carry them through every dangerous situation.

The examination had shown them exactly where they were lacking.

It had also given them a reason to improve.

Kael listened to their discussion, occasionally offering suggestions when someone asked for his opinion.

He did not tell them how much their survival mattered to him.

He did not need to.

They were already making the decision themselves.

And that was better than forcing them to follow his plans.

When the conversation finally ended, Kael looked around the table.

”All right. Once our injuries have healed, we’ll establish a proper training schedule. We’ll work on individual weaknesses and practice together often enough to improve our coordination.”

Darius nodded.

Elias raised his hand again.

”Does that schedule include breakfast?”

”Yes.”

”Excellent. I support this plan.”

Mira smiled.

Quinn chirped and reached for another piece of fruit.

Kael leaned back in his chair.

For the first time since the examination began, he saw a clear determination to improve in their eyes.

The examination had tested their ability to survive. What came next would determine how much they could grow.

...

Three days after the meeting with Professor Vista, Kael finally received permission to resume light training.

His shoulder had healed enough for ordinary movement, though the healer had warned him against putting too much strain on it. The bruising around his arm had also faded, leaving only occasional discomfort when he moved too quickly.

It was not a complete recovery, but it was enough to begin.

Kael arrived at the academy’s practical training grounds shortly before sunrise.

Professor Helen was already waiting.

She stood beside a wooden training table, where several objects had been arranged: a simple iron dagger, a wooden practice sword, a small mana crystal, and a notebook.

Her eyes moved toward Kael’s shoulder.

”You’re three minutes early,” Helen observed.

”I didn’t want to give you a reason to send me back to the infirmary.”

”That depends on whether you intend to behave sensibly.”

Kael placed his sword on the table. ”I’ll try.”

Helen gave him a doubtful look before picking up the wooden practice sword.