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Just as Reina stepped forward, her voice rang clear through the tension in the room. "Based on the evaluations from the tests, we will assign you all to trainers according to your capabilities. We want to match you with those best suited to help you grow," she stated, her tone firm yet reassuring.
Garmond sat in silence, mulling over his options. Doubts gnawed at him. Would he truly face Azazel and his entire army with nothing but his wits and grit? It felt like utter madness to him.
"Should I really challenge someone like Azazel when I have no powerhouse backing me?" The very thought sent shivers down his spine. The list of enemies he needed to overcome loomed in his mind like a hellish parade of monsters, each one stronger than the last. How could he possibly defeat them all in the scant time he had left?
As each second ticked by, he felt the weight of Azazel's growing army pressing in on him, an ever-expanding threat bent on conquest. The meticulous plans Azazel had laid out felt insurmountable.
"Nathan Hendrix, you'll be training under Mr. Chris," Reina announced, her voice cutting through Garmond's spiraling thoughts. Hendrix turned his gaze toward the figure meant to be his instructor.
Chris appeared to be very young, perhaps even annoyingly handsome, and dressed in a simple leather cuirass that hugged his athletic frame. He wielded a long sword, exuding an air of dignified confidence. His short silver hair gleamed under the harsh lights.
"Why do the bad guys always get favored?" Garmond muttered, irritation bubbling within him. "And why does the instructor have to be so damn good-looking?"
As Reina continued to call out names, assigning students to various instructors, Garmond's heart sank. When she reached his name, he was grouped with Chris. "Of course, I'd end up with the most irritating teacher in the bunch," he grumbled under his breath.
"Is this whole reincarnation thing just a joke? Nothing's been going right since I got here," he thought, frustration tightening his chest.
Suddenly, a commotion snapped him from his thoughts. "You aren't taking my sister away from me!" Trevor's voice sliced through the air, firm and unyielding.
Garmond turned to see Trevor confronting the instructors, Devine being ushered away to a different teacher. The scene felt charged, tension crackling like electricity between the two parties.
"I can't let you take her and do whatever you want! I'm done with all this!" Trevor's anger was palpable, and Garmond felt an uneasy knot form in his stomach.
Garmond wanted to intervene but hesitated. The watchful eyes of the inspectors made him freeze, fear coiling around him like a serpent. "This idiot doesn't realize how much stronger they are than us," he thought, irritation flaring within him. "But I can't just stand by and watch."
"Well, if you want your sweet little sister back, you'll have to come take her from me." A bulky figure stepped forward, a massive grin stretching across his face.
Urgency surged through Garmond. He knew he had to act, but before he could move, Trevor had already lunged, unleashing a flurry of punches at the giant.
The bulky instructor effortlessly evaded Trevor's strikes, clearly holding back, allowing the fight to play out. Garmond felt a flicker of relief amidst his concern. But as he watched, he was astonished by Trevor's fighting skill. It was a sight he'd never expected to witness.
Trevor moved with fluidity and precision, each punch and kick executed with purpose. His body became a whirlwind of motion, and even the instructors seemed momentarily stunned by his prowess.
But despite Trevor's impressive display, it was clear there was a chasm of strength separating him from the instructor. The instructor evaded with ease, a mocking grin never leaving his face. Every attack Trevor launched was countered with deftness that highlighted the stark difference in their abilities.
"Trevor, stop!" Devine shouted, tears brimming in her eyes as she watched her brother fight with such reckless abandon. "Please!"
But Trevor pressed on, deaf to her pleas.
"Aren't you listening to your sweet little sister?" the bulky man taunted, ducking under a wild kick aimed at his head.
In that moment, Garmond sensed it—a faint but chilling aura emanating from the instructor. The air thickened with the promise of violence, the instructor's hand glowing with a menacing red energy as he prepared to strike.
Time seemed to slow as the blade sliced through the air, aimed straight at Trevor. With a flick of his wrist, the instructor caught the knife mid-flight, simultaneously landing a clean strike on the nape of Trevor's neck.
Trevor's body crumpled to the ground, limp as a rag doll. The instructor turned his gaze toward Garmond, his grin widening with mockery. "Do you want to play hero as well?" he taunted, and Garmond felt the heat of rage rising within him.
With a wry smile, Garmond shot back, "I was just curious to see how well you could fight."
"That's the most ridiculous reason I've ever heard," Ariana chimed in, her voice dripping with exasperation. Garmond could imagine her facepalming from afar.
"Should've come up with something better," she continued, her tone teasing.
"Hey, smart brain, why don't you tell me what I should say?" Garmond retorted, annoyance flaring.
"You should've asked earlier," she countered.
Ignoring her, Garmond refocused on the instructors, all eyes now drawn to him as if he were the center of a storm. The space around him widened, students gradually retreating, sensing the rising tension.
"Idiots. And later, they expect me to be friends with them," he cursed silently, watching the slow retreat.
From what he had gathered, the instructors were holding back. They could have ended Trevor's antics in an instant, yet they allowed the chaos to unfold. Garmond felt a flicker of hope; perhaps they wanted to keep everyone alive for some reason.
"Keep your knife well; it might come in handy," the bulky figure said, tossing the blade back toward Garmond. He swallowed hard as the knife embedded itself in the ground right between his feet.
"If he really wanted me dead, I'd be a goner by now," Garmond thought, heart racing in his chest.
Once the chaos settled, Reina resumed her speech. "You'll be shown to your respective rooms, where you'll stay until the six-week program concludes. You'll be separated during training. Follow instructions carefully to ensure everything runs smoothly. Any attempt to escape from the school grounds will result in immediate death."
Her words landed with a heavy thud, the reality of their situation sinking in. Stay, train, and become powerful soldiers under the empire, or attempt to flee and die. For Garmond, the choice had already been made.
Whether he would face Azazel again or not, he knew he needed strength to survive. Training for a few weeks seemed like a small price to pay.
But questions loomed. What was the real plan behind all this? These cunning bastards made it feel too good to be true. Even if they were training for the empire, what guarantee was there that they would serve it after? There had to be a catch.
A gnawing feeling settled in his gut, one he couldn't quite shake. Even Ariana, whom he had grown to trust, seemed oblivious.
Once Reina finished, she led Trevor and Devine toward the sickbay, the gravity of their earlier confrontation lingering in the air.
"Follow me; I'll show you to our quarters," Chris said, his voice smooth and irritatingly confident. Garmond couldn't help but bristle at the luck of the guy.
"...pft, he even has a nice voice!" he muttered, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.
"Are you jealous?" Ariana's laughter rang in his ears, amusement dancing in her tone.
"It's just irritating to see someone like him…"
"Better than your former self," she interjected, a playful jab.
"Better?! No way! He's nowhere near that. It'd take him decades to match my sexy figure! He looks like a twig!" Garmond shot back, grasping at the only leverage he had against the teacher—his slender physique.
"Lilian, lead them to our quarters; I'll return shortly," Chris commanded the golden-haired girl Garmond had only just recognized.
"Lilian, huh? The same girl from the cafeteria," he mused, watching her closely. Then he turned to assess his team: Hendrix, Lilian, and the frowny-faced boy. It wasn't the best group, but he could tolerate it for six weeks.
"So that's five teachers and four students assigned to each," he calculated quickly. But a nagging question crept into his mind.
"What about those without magic? What are they going to do?" The thought lingered, curiosity gnawing at him.