Roa crouched in the underbrush, eyes fixed on the trio.

  Especially her.

  Suri.

  [Camouflage] still veiled her from sight, her breath slowed, her presence a thread woven into the shadows. She allowed herself short bursts of rest, pacing her mana with care. Better safe than get mana exhaustion.

  The trio should’ve headed to the cafeteria—like most students—but didn’t. They wandered instead, detouring toward the western edge of the training grounds. Curious. Suspicious.

  And then—unexpectedly—they turned. Leisurely. Conversing like any other student, yet walking straight in her direction.

  Roa smiled. Perfect.

  Now she’d hear them too.

  She activated [Omni Eyes], a soft shimmer coating her vision as she swept the surroundings. No magical constructs outside their bodies. No active illusion fields. Not even mana, at least the one that was under control.

  But then Kana moved.

  Not walk. Not turned. But lunged herself all of a sudden… In her exact position.

  One moment the black-haired girl was strolling casually. The next, she was in motion—too fast for most to follow. But Roa’s reflexes, honed by years of adventurer guild quests.

  She drew her dagger without thinking.

  And instantly regretted it.

  [Camouflage] dropped, breaking in a flicker of static as its core condition shattered: Unable to use weapons while cloaked.

  Kana froze mid-lunge, eyes narrowing. “She’s not one of the professors. Is she?”

  Suri stepped beside her, arms loose at her side. “Oh. She’s with Pit. I didn’t know they were this close to discovering us. They’re quite good...”

  No alarm. No panic. Just quiet recognition, as if this was inevitable.

  Behind them, Boris silently pulled his training spear free. It hissed as the head sliced air.

  “We have to kill her,” Kana said.

  Her voice was cold—colder than Roa expected. No edge. No anger.

  And then Roa saw it.

  Kana’s eyes. Red eyes. Still. Focused. The kind of stare you only saw once: right before death.

  Roa’s body screamed to run.

  Not good!

  She remembered the others. Guards from the organization disguised as merchants, veterans—all found with crushed bones, split helmets, or not found at all. All reports unconfirmed. Whispers, until now.

  Now, standing before her, she saw the truth.

  These weren’t ordinary students.

  The copper-class bands were a mask.

  The fear came fast , cutting through her bones. Every instinct shouted. Fight or flee.

  But her body disagreed.

  Her knees buckled.

  The dagger slipped from her grip.

  She fell to the ground and knelt.

  Cowardice? Maybe.

  But Roa had survived this long by listening to fear. And her father’s words came back like a mantra: Those who run live to fight again. The dead don’t win. Only the living get a second chance.

  So she bowed her head.

  Swallowed her pride.

  She wouldn’t win. Fleeing was out of question.. If she was caught trespassing in the academy… Even Pit wouldn’t be able to save her. It was one of those situations she was so familiar with.

  ….

  Kana expected a professor.

  Or worse—the shadow man.

  But when the [Camouflage] shimmered out, it revealed someone else entirely. A woman. Mid twenties. Unfamiliar.

  Kana’s frown deepened. “She’s not one of the professors. Is she…?”

  Suri stepped forward, her stance relaxed but eyes sharp. ““Oh. She’s with Pit. I didn’t know they were this close to discovering us. They’re quite good.”

  That changed things. Pit was different—the man specialized in chasing secrets. In extracting them with his skills designed for it.

  Kana’s expression turned cold. “We have to kill her.”

  A simple statement. Not out of anger. But necessity.

  If they killed her here, she could stash the body in her [Inventory]. No evidence.

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  And yet…

  Her eyes flicked to Suri. Then Boris.

  This would be their first.

  Not the first monster. Not a corrupted beast.

  A person.

  Kana hesitated. The weight of the act hung over them all.

  The woman—Roa—didn’t run. She didn’t raise her blade. She knelt. She was very surprised though she didn’t show it.

  “I don’t want to die,” she whispered. Her voice cracked at the edges, like porcelain stressed to the point of shattering.

  Suri spoke softly, but her words struck like a knife. “If we let her live, she might report us to Pit. And then the real problems will come.”

  Kana nodded slowly, weighing the options.

  A corpse meant silence—but it also meant war. Pit wouldn’t ignore a missing operative. They’d dig, probe, maybe even escalate into something public. A greater threat than they were ready to handle.

  “No,” Kana said at last. “Then in exchange for your life—”

  She stepped forward, eyes gleaming red.

  “You will lie to Pit. You will tell no one about us. You should realize it by now.”

  Roa blinked up at her, the weight of her fear still pinning her to the ground.

  Suri crouched beside her, her gaze clinical now. “You’re Roa, right? Where are you staying?”

  Her eyes widened for a moment after hearing her name.

  “Outside the academy,” Roa said quickly. “Elm Street. First inn on the right.”

  Suri nodded, satisfied. “Good. I know you’ve figured us out. That means you’re smart enough to realize I’ll be watching you.” She glanced at Kana. “And if I see anything I don’t like—”

  She didn’t finish the sentence.

  She didn’t have to.

  Kana felt a twitch of surprise.

  Am I really that terrifying?

  Behind her, Boris finally exhaled, the practice spear still held but lowered. His hands were trembling. He didn't hide it well.

  No one died today.

  But the line had been drawn.

  And from now on, Roa was part of a game she couldn’t walk away from.

  …

  Roa was gone.

  She’d vanished back into the wind, [Camouflage] active again as she slipped past through hidden passage of the academy and into the safety of Elm Street.

  Kana watched her disappear with narrowed eyes before turning back. “Let’s eat,” she said, though her tone was distant.

  They made their way toward the cafeteria. Suri’s stomach grumbled like a dying beast.

  “Are you sure she won’t betray us?” Kana asked as they walked.

  Boris and Suri exchanged a glance.

  “You really don’t know how terrifying you are, do you?” Suri said.

  Kana blinked. “I don’t think so.”

  Boris’s voice dropped, half-serious. “Kana… I’m more scared of you than I am of my Da. And I wish I’m just kidding.”

  Kana let out a breath—half a laugh, half resignation. “That... is strangely comforting.”

  The academy cafeteria was packed. Hundreds of students—most looking like they'd just survived a war—jostled for food and a place to sit. The first subject of the day had been rough on everyone.

  Rin waved from a corner table, waving her arms like a windmill to catch their attention. She’d managed to save them seats.

  Leo and Yuri weren’t there, though likely off with their other classmates.

  Kana’s eyes scanned the room one last time with her [High Awareness] running. But nothing stood out.

  For now, they were safe.

  But she knew better than to relax too long.

  The shadow man would appear who knows when.

  ….

  It was all white.

  Not just the snow—though that never stopped—but the air, the land, even the horizon itself. For those not born in the north, it was a place meant to swallow you. Sight, sound, direction. All stolen by howling winds and the ever-churning sky.

  There were no roads. No cities. No visible signs of civilization beyond the pale shadows of distant mountains. Even the animals had long since vanished into their dens, waiting out the next season.

  Except for one thing.

  A cluster of tents, reinforced by enchantments and northern engineering, stood defiantly against the wind. They formed a rough ring, hunkered down like soldiers beneath a storm.

  Inside one of the larger tents, a figure leaned over a table cluttered with papers and maps. Prince K exhaled a thin breath of fog into the air, black disheveled long hair, his sapphire eyes glinted as if he knew everything. He wore a heavy cloak lined with fur, but even that couldn’t quite keep the cold from seeping into his bones. The north had a way of doing that—pressing into your soul, reminding you that you did not belong.

  He read the letter again in front of him. It trembled slightly from the breeze that snuck in through the tent’s seams. Bad news had a habit of traveling far too fast these days.

  He was almost in his thirties. It was probably around twelve years. That’s how long he’d been stationed here. Not in exile—but close. His father, King J, had given him a task few could refuse and fewer still would survive.

  Find the source of the northern Dungeon Overflow.

  A task with no clear end, no timeframe, and—most importantly—no immediate value in courtly eyes. At the time, many believed the King had sent his son away to protect him from the quiet war of succession, from his cousins. Or to remove him from it entirely.

  But Prince K didn’t waste those twelve years.

  One of his rarest gifts, the skill [Aptitude], let him see the potential in people. Not their strength. Not their charm. Their future. What they could become.

  And so he watched. Listened. Chosen.

  Now, seven individuals followed him—people of staggering potential, hand-picked across the years.. Together, they formed something stronger than a battalion.

  And now? They were close. The answers lay somewhere beneath the frost.

  Still, the latest report from the capital was disturbing.

  The Academy planned to send students north. For training. A polite word for meat shield.

  He knew better.

  This wasn’t about experience or exposure. It was their way for them—so everyone would know.

  They were sending young people to die. To a place none of them understood.

  He had already sent one letter of protest. Carefully worded. Politely ignored.

  Now he wrote another—less careful, more direct.

  Because if they wouldn't listen to the cold facts, they’d soon listen to the consequences.

  All they needed was a single capable unit to handle the threat because the cause was someone. And definitely not a parade of young hopefuls marching into death.

  Prince K looked up at the ceiling of the tent, as if he could see through it. His breath misted into the air again, and he exhaled through his nose.

  Another Northern storm?

  But it wasn’t the weather he feared.

  But their nonsense plans.