"Take a seat," the instructor barked, snapping Elias out of his thoughts.
Elias quickly shuffled to an empty chair near the back of the room, joining the other students who were already seated.
The classroom had a utilitarian design, with plain walls and rows of sturdy desks. On one side of the room, a large whiteboard displayed a hastily drawn diagram of what looked like a formation of people surrounding a campfire.
Once the room settled, the instructor folded his arms across his chest and began to speak.
"Survival," he said, his voice rough but commanding, "isn't about brute strength. It's not about flashy skills or how much mana you can burn through. It's about staying alive when everything out there is trying to kill you."
Elias shifted in his seat, leaning forward to catch every word.
"My name is Marshal Vex," the instructor continued. "I've been a Hunter for enough years, and I've seen enough green recruits go out there and get themselves killed because they thought they were invincible. I'm here to make sure that doesn't happen to you."
Marshal tapped the board with his metal hand, the sound sharp and distinct. "First lesson: formations. When you're out there, your brigade is your lifeline. You don't go anywhere without a formation. You break formation, you die. Simple as that."
He gestured to the diagram on the board. "This here is a standard defensive formation. The tank stands at the front, taking the brunt of the damage. Damage dealers stay on the flanks, and the healer stays protected in the center. Everyone has a role, and if one person screws up, the whole formation falls apart."
Elias studied the diagram closely, noting the positions and roles.
He'd never been part of a team like this before. Back in the settlement, survival was an individual effort. Everyone looked out for themselves, and teamwork was a foreign concept.
Marshal's mechanical fingers flexed as he continued. "Second lesson: dungeons. These aren't your average hunting grounds. A dungeon is a domain — a territory claimed by a higher-class monster. Inside a dungeon, the rules are different. The air feels heavier, the terrain shifts, and the monsters are more aggressive."
He paused, letting the gravity of his words sink in. "But the worst part? Dungeons are alive. The monster that created it can sense you the moment you step inside. It'll send traps, minions, whatever it takes to make sure you don't leave alive."
Elias's stomach tightened at the thought. A dungeon sounded like a death trap, yet it was something every Hunter was expected to face.
"To survive in a dungeon," Marshal continued, "you need three things: awareness, preparation, and adaptability. Always watch your surroundings. Bring the right gear — food, water, potions, weapons, and backup weapons. And when something goes wrong, which it will, be ready to change your plan on the fly."
Elias raised his hand hesitantly. "What if the monster is too strong? Shouldn't we just retreat?"
Marshal fixed him with a steely gaze. "Good question, kid. And yeah, sometimes retreat is the smartest move. There's no shame in running if it means living to fight another day. But…" He raised his metal arm, his fingers curling into a fist. "Retreat doesn't mean panic. You retreat as a unit, in formation. Anyone who panics and runs off on their own? They're as good as dead."
The room fell silent, the weight of his words settling over the students.
Marshal stepped away from the desk, pacing slowly as he spoke. "Now, let me give you a piece of advice you won't find in any textbook. Out there, the monsters aren't the only things you need to worry about. Hunger, exhaustion, the cold — they'll kill you just as fast. That's why you need to keep moving, keep your wits about you, and never, never let your guard down."
He stopped and looked directly at Elias. "You, for example. You've got the look of someone who hasn't been outside the walls yet, am I right?"
Elias nodded, feeling a bit self-conscious under the man's scrutiny.
"You've got potential," Marshal said, surprising him. "But potential means nothing if you don't put in the work. Out there, it's not about how strong you are when you start. It's about how smart you are when things go wrong."
The class continued with more detailed discussions about survival tactics. Marshal shared stories of his own experiences, each one more harrowing than the last.
He talked about the time he'd been ambushed by a pack of Shadow Hounds, losing his arm in the process, and how he'd barely made it back alive.
Through it all, Elias couldn't help but feel a growing sense of admiration for the man.
Marshal's no-nonsense attitude and wealth of experience made him someone worth listening to, even if his bluntness could be intimidating.
As the class drew to a close, Marshal leaned against the desk again, his tone softer now. "One last thing. If you take nothing else from this lesson, remember this: no one survives alone. Find a brigade you can trust. Stick together, watch each other's backs, and you'll have a fighting chance."
Elias nodded, the words resonating with him. He thought of Caleb and the Cobra Brigade. Maybe this was what he needed—a team, a group to rely on.
The bell rang, signaling the end of the class. As the students began to file out, Marshal called out after them, "Stay alive, rookies. And don't forget — your next mistake could be your last."
Elias left the room feeling both humbled and determined. The weight of everything he'd learned pressed heavily on his shoulders, but he knew it was knowledge he'd need to survive.
Elias trudged through the winding hallways of the inner Academy, exhaustion pulling at every muscle in his body.
The day had been relentless, a whirlwind of lessons, instructors, and information. His limbs ached from hours of sitting and note-taking, while his mind spun with the weight of everything he'd learned.
The Academy was proving to be as rigorous as he'd imagined, and the prospect of facing yet another day of this left him longing for the relative quiet of his dorm.
The hallways were quieter now, the bustle of students thinning out as everyone made their way toward their assigned quarters.
The hum of the lighting above and the occasional creak of footsteps on the polished floors were the only sounds keeping him company.
He was so lost in his thoughts that he barely registered the figure rounding the corner ahead of him.
The collision happened in an instant.
Elias stumbled back, the force of the impact knocking him slightly off balance. "Ah, sorry about that," he muttered, rubbing his shoulder and glancing up to see who he'd bumped into.
His apology caught in his throat when he saw her.
It was the blue-haired girl from the willpower test. Up close, her striking appearance was even more noticeable.