Chapter 585: Never Again

After reaching the clearing, the group remained where they were, rain still falling steadily over their bowed heads and soaked cloaks, each of them too focused on breathing to care about the cold seeping into their bones. Chests rose and fell hard, some faster than others, boots planted in wet earth as they tried to steady trembling legs. No one spoke at first. There was only the sound of rain striking leaves, the dull thud of water hitting mud, and the uneven rhythm of exhausted breaths.

It was several minutes later when Sir Kaelen emerged from between the trees, his presence calm and composed despite the storm. His cloak barely stirred as he approached, eyes sweeping over the group with quiet scrutiny. “Well done,” he said at last, his voice firm but not unkind. “You’ve completed the trial.”

A few heads lifted at that, surprise flickering across weary faces. Kaelen continued without pause, informing them that although they had succeeded, they had exceeded the expected duration by nearly thirty minutes beyond the original allotted time. There was no reprimand in his tone, only acknowledgment. After delivering this, he gestured toward the denser canopy nearby.

“Move under the trees,” he instructed. “Wait there until the others arrive.”

The group obeyed without argument, shuffling toward the sheltering branches where the rain softened into scattered droplets. As they settled beneath the foliage, leaning against trunks or lowering themselves carefully to the ground, the storm gradually began to ease. The relentless downpour thinned into a light drizzle, and with it came the distant sound of movement. Through the haze of mist and fading rain, they caught sight of the first group of students emerging from the forest. Their condition mirrored the group’s own—mud-streaked, shoulders slumped, eyes dulled by exhaustion.

Not long after, more students began to appear. Some arrived alone, staggering into the clearing with hollow expressions, while others came in pairs or small clusters, supporting one another as they crossed the final stretch. Time passed slowly as the clearing filled. By the time the sun had fully disappeared beyond the horizon, every student had returned. The rain had ceased entirely, leaving behind a cool, damp silence, and above them the night sky stretched wide and illuminated, stars peering down through broken clouds.

Once the students had somewhat regained their breath and the murmurs of quiet conversation had begun to settle, Sir Kaelen returned to the center of the clearing—this time accompanied by another instructor. Their arrival drew the attention of everyone present, conversations trailing off until only silence remained. Dozens of tired eyes fixed on them.

Kaelen stood tall, hands resting calmly at his sides. “You’ve completed your first trial,” he announced, his voice carrying clearly through the clearing. “And for that, you deserve congratulations.”

A few students exchanged glances, relief flickering briefly before Kaelen continued.

“I’ll admit,” he said, “I’m impressed. Every one of you managed to complete this trial in under ten hours.”

The reaction was immediate. Confusion rippled through the crowd.

“Ten?” someone muttered under their breath.

“I thought he said eight,” another whispered, louder this time.

Kaelen waited, allowing the uncertainty to fester before raising a hand. “Yes,” he said, acknowledging them. “I did say eight hours.” He paused, eyes sharp as they scanned the students’ faces. “But in truth, this trial was designed to take ten.”

Murmurs spread again, louder now, edged with disbelief. Kaelen continued, unbothered. “The terrain of this forest, the mountain paths, the instability of the ground—even without the rain, it is naturally brutal. Add the weather, and it becomes far worse.” His gaze hardened slightly. “I told you eight hours because I wanted to see something.”

The clearing fell silent.

“I wanted to see your resilience,” Kaelen said. “Your persistence. How far you would push yourselves when you believed you were already behind.”

A few students clenched their fists. Others looked away, conflicted. Anger simmered beneath the surface, but alongside it was something else—recognition. They remembered the moments they nearly gave up, the choices they made under pressure, the strength they didn’t know they possessed until they were forced to find it.

“And what I saw,” Kaelen finished, “earned you my respect.”

The admission struck harder than any reprimand might have. Some students bristled at the deception, but none could deny the truth of his words. They had gone beyond what they thought possible.

“You’re allowed to feel however you wish about it,” Kaelen went on, his tone unyielding now. “Angry. Frustrated. Proud. It changes nothing. What’s done is done.” His eyes sharpened. “As your instructor, I act as I see fit. If anyone here has a problem with that—” he gestured vaguely toward the forest, “—you’re free to leave the academy.”

Silence followed, heavy and absolute. No one moved. No one spoke.

Kaelen let the moment linger before shifting his attention. His gaze settled on Sheila and her group, studying them with deliberate focus. He held that look for a long moment, as though weighing something unseen, before drawing a breath—clearly preparing to speak.

“Sheila Granger,” Kaelen called, his voice cutting cleanly through the stillness, “and the rest of your group—step forward.”

A subtle shift passed through the clearing. Heads turned. Eyes followed as Sheila and the others straightened themselves and moved ahead, boots squelching faintly against the damp earth. They stood together instinctively, a familiar formation born of hours spent relying on one another, even as fatigue weighed heavy in their limbs.

Kaelen regarded them for a long moment before speaking again. “You were the first to complete the trial,” he said plainly. “Not by luck. Not by chance.” His gaze sharpened. “But by decision-making. Teamwork. Coordination. Unity.”

He let the words settle before continuing.

“Every movement you made was deliberate. Every risk calculated. Watching you adapt, improvise, and execute under pressure was—” he paused, choosing his words carefully, “—a sight to truly behold.”

There was a quiet stir among the students. Some looked impressed. Others looked uneasy.

Sheila felt her chest tighten slightly, pride mixing with something far less comfortable. Beside her, a few of the others exchanged brief glances, unsure whether praise from Kaelen was ever meant to stand alone.

And then Kaelen’s tone shifted.

“Because of that,” he said, “this group—this exact formation—will not be permitted to operate together again.”

The words landed like a sudden drop in temperature.

“What?” Dylan muttered under his breath before he could stop himself.

Brows furrowed. Confusion rippled through the group almost immediately. Sheila opened her mouth as if to speak, then hesitated. Asher’s jaw tightened, irritation flashing across his face. Only Liam remained still, his expression unchanged, eyes already distant—as though he had anticipated this long before the words were spoken.

Kaelen did not miss the reactions.

“You’re wondering why,” he said. “Most of you, anyway.”

He turned slightly, pacing once before stopping again in front of them. “Let’s be honest. Everyone here knows what you are,” he continued. “Your group is a walking cheat code.”

A murmur spread through the clearing.

“Every single one of you ranks within the top ten of the first-year students,” Kaelen said, voice firm. “At least, you would—if we were still using the old ranking system.”

That earned a few sharp looks from the surrounding students.

“You combine that level of individual capability into a single unit,” Kaelen went on, “and the result is imbalance. Efficiency beyond what the trial was meant to test.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “If you were split among other groups, or if even one or two of you had been removed today, most of what you accomplished would not have been possible. Not even close.”

He paused, then added pointedly,

“Especially that descent.”

A few members of the group felt it immediately—the weight of the truth behind his words. The mountain slide. The timing. The coordination required for every role to function perfectly. One mistake, one weaker link, and the entire plan would have collapsed.

Sheila swallowed slowly.

For the first time since Kaelen began speaking, understanding dawned fully. He wasn’t punishing them. He was acknowledging reality.

They had been able to do what they did precisely because they were who they were—together.

Sheila glanced briefly at the others. She could see it in their faces now as well: reluctant acceptance. Even Asher’s irritation dulled into thought. Dylan exhaled quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. Liam, as expected, showed nothing—but his silence spoke of agreement rather than resistance.

Kaelen nodded once, as if confirming his own assessment.

“From now on,” he said, “if any of you choose to work together, it will be in pairs.”

A beat.

“Three at most.”

His gaze hardened.

“All seven of you will never again operate as a single team under my training.”

The words settled, heavy but final.

When Kaelen turned away from them, his attention shifting back to the rest of the students, Sheila felt something strange stir within her—not loss, but resolve. If this was the cost of being strong, then so be it.

Kaelen raised his voice slightly.

“That concludes your first day of training,” he announced. “Return to the academy. Visit the infirmary. Get yourselves treated and rest while you can.”

A faint, humorless smile touched his lips.

“Tomorrow will be anything but less excruciating than today.”

At his signal, the air before the clearing distorted. Two portals tore open with a low hum, swirling with arcane light. One by one, the students began to move, exhaustion dragging their steps as they passed through and vanished from the clearing.

Sheila and her group lingered only a moment longer, exchanging brief looks—no words needed—before following the others into the portals, leaving the forest silent behind them once more.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep