The dense forest echoed with the sounds of battle. Ashton moved swiftly, his precise strikes cutting down his opponents one by one. His calculated movements and ruthless efficiency sent chills through the students he faced. Yet, despite the fight unfolding before him, he felt an eerie sensation—as if someone was watching him.
Hidden within the shadows of the trees, a pair of crimson eyes followed his every move. A young woman stood silently, her long black hair flowing in the soft breeze. She observed him with an amused smirk, taking in every detail.
Ashton had barely caught his breath when she stepped forward, emerging from the darkness. The moment their eyes met, his body tensed.
Who?
The girl approached him without hesitation, her steps slow yet deliberate.
"Not bad," she murmured, her lips curling slightly. "Not bad at all… for a farming mage."
Ashton's eyes widened slightly. How does she know?
His talent wasn't something that had been made public. Only academy officials had access to that information. If she was a first-year like him, there was no way she should have known.
The girl chuckled at his reaction. "No need to look so surprised," she said casually. "I'm Emily Bane. You've heard of me, haven't you?" She tilted her head, her red eyes gleaming. "Daughter of the Hunter Association's CEO."
Ashton remained silent, his mind racing.
If she wasn't here to fight, then why was she here? More importantly, why would the daughter of the Hunter Association's CEO know about him? He was just an ordinary student—or at least, that's what he wanted people to believe.
Emily's gaze darkened. Her amusement vanished, replaced by something more severe.
"You can be friends with Felix Ashford if you want," she said, voice low but sharp. "But stay away from Samael."
Ashton narrowed his eyes. Samael?
"I don't know why he's so interested in you," Emily continued, her expression unreadable. "But you're nothing. Do you really think he'd waste his time on someone like you?"
She scoffed, stepping even closer. "Do you even realize what you are? A farming mage. What can you even do?"
Then she laughed—cold, mocking, and cruel.
Ashton clenched his fists, but his expression remained unreadable. He didn't need to respond. He had heard enough.
If this was how they saw him—if this was what they thought of him—then he would prove them wrong.
Let them mock him.
They would soon see the truth.