'Did she look at me?' Azrael didn't miss the moment—he had locked eyes with one of the so-called angels.
However, since her gaze had swept over the crowd without lingering on him for too long, he hadn't thought much of it.
As the members of the Elite School entered the Moon Breakers, principal Arthur welcomed them officially.
The Proven and the Marked of the military school merged into one group, while the newcomers stood on the other side, listening to the usual long, inspiring speech from the man.
Azrael paid little attention. His eyes were fixed on the members of the Elite School. These Chosen weren't just students from the best academy in the world—they stood at the very pinnacle of it. Naturally, he expected great things from them.
But his observation was cut short by Arthur's sudden announcement.
"So, while we give the chance for every Proven to challenge a member of the opposite faction, we will be sending the Marked into a room with a confined Rift."
Azrael's eyes darkened. He had assumed that the rivaling meeting was meant for duels only, but he had missed a simple fact. Not everyone was going to challenge someone, and both of the schools wanted to show what they had nurtured. So the most efficient way to do so was by sending them into real combat.
The speech ended. Every Marked began walking toward the underground room that held the Rift—classified at Feral Danger Level.
'In hindsight, I should have seen that coming,' he cursed his lack of foresight. They had used the Rifts only once, it had been obvious they had been saving the monsters for something. He'd been too focused on training to consider the political implications of the visit.
Without further delay, the gates opened letting the Chosen enter. This room was different than before. First, the sky was higher, meaning they were much deeper underground—no doubt, this one was designed to be significantly more difficult.
Second, instead of a forest, they were in a mountain range. The air had been simulated to be thinner, putting pressure on their bodies. The terrain was uneven, making scouting significantly harder.
And if that wasn't enough, the worst was that it was snowing—not real snow of course, but one that had been artificially designed since the sky wasn't real.
However real or not, the coldness was the same. The way it bore deep in his bones despite the uniform he wore made it clear this wasn't just going to be a show for how many monsters one can kill but for how long one can endure in the deadly climate.
Azrael would be forced to think ahead. Not only to be careful how many abominations he was going to kill, keeping his Corruption in check, but also staying clear of their blood. For it acted like water, if he drenched himself in liquid, his body temperature would leave his body several times faster.
He spared Victor a glance, the behemoth of a man seemed unfazed as usual, like he had been forged by the cold itself.
"I greet the Chosen from the Elite School,"
Sure enough, the one overseeing them was Iris—again.
Just like he expected, she didn't even bother to spare her pupil whom she taught how to wield a scythe for a whole two months a single glance. Instead she kept her attention on the newcomers.
'She is heartless alright,' Azrael mused.
"You are all familiar with the procedure by now, I am sure," Iris spoke, managing to sound somewhat like an individual that did give a crap about formalities.
"So I'll keep it simple. Endure the onslaught until every last creature is dead. That's your only directive,"
She pointed to the device on her wrist.
"Since the area is much larger than normal, surveillance won't be possible. Your wrist devices will track how many beings you kill."
'Wait,' Azrael's eyes widened, a flicker of realization passing over his face.
For a brief second, Iris's gaze moved, stopping at her pupil—the one she had taught how to use the scythe effectively—as she spoke calmly,
"There are no rules."
'Ah,' for a second, Azrael's stoic facade cracked open, revealing a maniacal smile.
'So it's a free-for-all. My Corruption Rank won't be the only thing rising today.'
His eyes momentarily darted to the group of the Elite School.
'Prey.'
Realizing that he had let his true feelings show, his smile disappeared instantly. It had happened so quickly, no one seemed to notice. Azrael wasn't famous, after all. No one had been watching him.
No one… except a pair of sharp blue eyes that had been quietly observing him this entire time.
"Let the friendly competition begin." With these parting words, Iris left their side.
The two groups of Marked stared at each other.
Most picked up on the subtle clues that the instructor had given them. There was no surveillance nor rules.
Some hesitated, should they approach the rivaling faction and speak with them? Offering a truce, a temporary alliance? Or should they attack one another?
The Moon Breakers were going to be at a massive disadvantage should that happen, for the Elite School had two angels that had been rumored to be able to tilt the scale of any battle no matter how dire.
Those who had placed at the first tenth places in the elimination ceremony were studying the Elite group closely.
Who would make the first move?
The answer was: none of the ones being watched.
The instant Iris left their group, Azrael acted.
He turned and locked eyes with Victor.
The man nodded.
With a smirk, Azrael vanished—swift and silent like death itself. Victor followed a second later, his massive body cleaving through the ground with the sheer weight of his steps.
No one could react in time. All the Chosen heard was a loud bang—then two figures disappearing into the snow and trees.
Azrael's plan was simple.
He would distance himself from the majority and hunt monsters, raising his score as quickly as possible—hopefully earning a skill or two along the way to make himself more powerful.
Eventually, the others would spread out. He would use the chaos and the element of surprise to take them out—one by one.
This would grant him great advantage, for he was not only raising both of his Ranks but also had help from Victor. From what Azrael had observed, the man didn't place a high value on human life, which was a good thing. All he needed to do was to convince him that killing Chosen would benefit them by getting rid of the competition.
And he had a theory. Unconfirmed—but likely.
Killing members of the opposite faction… might even be encouraged.
With a flick of his finger, Azrael summoned Gravebloom into his hands.
A faint smile tugging at his lips.
Today he was going to advance.