023

  Meliodas sat across from Professor Aurelius in his study, a cup of warm tea steaming gently between them, the room was quiet as none of them spoke. They sat like that for a while.

  Finally, Aurelius spoke.

  “What is it you wished to discuss, student?”

  Meliodas lifted his cup, took a measured sip, then set it back down.

  “I’ve been thinking about what we discussed yesterday,” he said. “And I… have a lot of questions, Professor.”

  Aurelius regarded him over the rim of his own cup.

  “You could have waited for the next lecture,” he replied calmly. “Or are you reconsidering enrollment in my course?”

  Meliodas shook his head immediately.

  “No. I’ll be attending…definitely.” He hesitated for a moment, then continued. “It’s just that… something occurred to me. A possible solution.”

  Aurelius’ eyebrows rose slightly.

  “A solution to what, exactly?”

  Meliodas straightened in his chair.

  “You said that Tyka, Liora, and I wouldn’t have been able to defeat the Burrowfang under normal circumstances, and I think you were right.” he said

  Aurelius folded his hands together.

  “And?”

  “I think,” Meliodas continued carefully, “that I may have found a way we could have.”

  For the first time, Aurelius leaned forward.

  “Explain,” Aurelius said.

  Meliodas hesitated for only a moment.

  “If Liora had been on our team,” he began, “Tyka would’ve been able to fight the young Burrowfang properly. With her healing him, he could hold the line for a few moments. That would’ve given me enough time to cast my spell, and then—” he spread his hands slightly, “—we would’ve won.”

  Aurelius listened without interruption.

  Then he laughed.

  “You believe student Tyka could have held the line?” Aurelius asked. “Then you are deeply mistaken, student.”

  Meliodas frowned. “I don’t think so, Professor—”

  Aurelius raised a hand, interrupting Meliodas.

  “Tell me something,” he said calmly. “Are you judging Tyka by his current ability… or by the version of him enhanced by you and Owen?”

  Meliodas froze, as the answer he had thought of caught in his throat.

  Aurelius nodded slowly, as if he had expected that silence.

  “Yes,” he said. “That is a common mistake, and a dangerous one.”

  He leaned back slightly.

  “Always assess your team and your enemy at their true baseline. Do not judge someone by another’s support, Student meliodas .”

  He paused, then continued more evenly.

  “If Owen had been part of your group, then yes,” Aurelius admitted. “I believe you could have defeated the Burrowfang. Injuries would have been severe, but survival would have been possible.”

  Meliodas’ eyes widened slightly.

  “But,” Aurelius added, “you also could have won without him.”

  Meliodas leaned forward instantly. “How?”

  With a flick of Aurelius’ finger, ash gathered on the table, shaping itself into crude figures: four small silhouettes, Meliodas, Tyka, Liora, and the Burrowfang.

  “Your mistake,” Aurelius said, tapping the ash Burrowfang, “was treating it as a wall to break through.”

  The figures began to shift slightly then moved.

  “A Burrowfang hunts by vibration and patience as it is more of an reactive predator instead of pursuing his prey blindly. Your mistake was to rush it. Worse, you allowed it to dictate the pace of the battle.”

  ****

  Meliodas sat on the beach near the mage plaza, staring up at the sky as Aurelius’ words replayed in his mind, over and over again.

  “Shifting perspective...” he murmured to himself.“ So simple, and yet impossibly complicated in the middle of battle.”

  Back then, he hadn’t really understood what a Burrowfang was. He had faced it with instincts and improvisation, not knowledge. If he had possessed what he knew now, its behavior, its habits, the way it hunted, Meliodas would have reacted differently, the knowledge would have made him react better.

  Meliodas nodded slowly to himself, enrolling in Monster Etymology had been the right decision.

  He exhaled, running the information through his mind again, mentally rebuilding the encounter step by step in his mind, until familiar shouts broke his focus.

  Kazzek’s evaluation.

  Meliodas had checked on it earlier. Tyka was still there, still pushing forward. Only ten, maybe fifteen students remained exactly as Professor Kazzek had predicted. Liora was still holding on as well, steady and relentless. If she endured one more day, she would be done by tomorrow afternoon.

  He smiled faintly, I’ll see her then he thought

  Meliodas pushed himself to his feet, brushing fallen leaves from his clothes. His anticipation grew as he thought ahead.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  Tomorrow.

  Professor Aurelius had told him he was welcome anytime, to talk tactics, monsters and theory.

  Meliodas felt a deep sense of anticipation as he couldn't wait.

  ****

  Liora lay sprawled on the ground, chest rising and falling heavy in uneven breaths. Every muscle in her body screamed in protest, as sweat soaked through her clothes, clinging uncomfortably.

  She had endured a full day of Kazzek’s “evaluation,” if it could even be called that.

  Hell was more accurate she thought as Liora satedied her breathing.

  With a groan, she pushed herself upright and scanned the clearing. The number of students had thinned dramatically. Where there had once been dozens, now only a handful remained.

  Tyka was still there.

  She turned her head toward the river just in time to see him surface, dragging himself onto the bank before plunging back in moments later. His massive frame was coated in mud and water, muscles trembling with exhaustion, but he dindt stopped.

  Not once, he had it far worse than the others. That much was obvious.

  It made sense, really. Tyka wasn’t just trying to pass. He wanted Professor Kazzek as his mentor, and Kazzek was not the kind of man who accepted students lightly.

  Liora swallowed and looked around again. She counted silently, Eight.

  Only eight students remained.

  Her gaze lingered on the others. Most wore the strained expressions of desperation rather than ambition. Their ranks, judging by the faintly glowing badges at their waists, were unimpressive somewhere between thirty and fifty.

  Liora sat back, she looked at the sky enjoying the rest for a moment, after a few more seconds Liora heard some of the nearby bushes rustling, she looked at them as Morvack emerged from them, carrying crates of food and water.

  “Stop!” Kazzek roared across the clearing. “You have thirty minutes to eat, after that, well you know what.”

  Liora observed Morvack as he moved between the students, distributing rations and flasks. Groans and murmurs followed him like ghosts as he worked.

  When Morvack reached her, he greeted her with a sympathetic smile and handed her a ration and a flask of water.

  “Sorry,” he said quietly. “No real food, only rations, you’d only throw it up in a few hours.”

  “Thank you,” Liora replied, reaching for the ration.

  The moment she lifted her arm, a sharp pain shot through her arm.

  “Ah—”

  Morvack’s smile vanished. He caught her arm gently but firmly, eyes narrowing as he examined it. Dried blood clung to her robes, if they could even be called that anymore since the robes were torn in various places, they looked like something a homeless man would wear instead of an academy student .

  He placed a hand over her forearm and let his Straum flow.

  “It’s broken,” the aqualen said bluntly. “You should stop, Liora. If you don’t treat this properly, there’s a real risk of permanent damage.”

  Liora said nothing.

  Morvack frowned. “How did it come to this…” he muttered. “You’re a healer.”

  He paused, then hissed softly. “Your Straum’s completely depleted. You can’t even heal yourself.”

  Without waiting for permission, Morvack released his own power.

  A deep blue glow spread outward as a controlled current of water wrapped around Liora’s body. She felt it immediately; it was cool, steady and deliberate. Her arm began to mend slowly, bones knitting back into place as smaller wounds sealed shut one by one.

  After a few minutes, the current vanished.

  Liora flexed her fingers carefully. The pain was still there but it was more manageable now. Her bone wasn't fully healed but it would serve its basic functions. She looked up at the shark-humanoid before her and smiled faintly.

  “Thank you.”

  “It’s my job,” Morvack replied evenly. “Every year it’s the same. First-years rushing to secure a mentor, pushing themselves past any sort of reason, just to fail miserably.”

  His black eyes locked onto hers, his expression hardening.

  “You should really consider stopping, Liora,” he said. “Be proud of what you’ve accomplished. Rest and try again in a few weeks.”

  Liora shook her head. “I can’t,” she said quietly.

  Morvack studied her in silence.

  Her eyes burned with raw determination, fire mixed with regret. Not only ambition but necessity.

  A student driven forward by reasons that didn’t allow retreat, no matter the cost.

  Morvack sighed.

  “Impressive determination,” he said at last. “But hear me well. I can help you, but if you break that arm again, or worse… lose it…” His voice dropped. “I won't be able to hell it properly again, not even you will be able to.”

  Liora said nothing.

  Morvack stared at her a moment longer, then turned away.

  “Very well,” he whispered. “If you refuse to stop, then I’ll help you just a little.”

  He walked to a nearby palm tree, wrapped one massive webbed hand around its trunk, and pulled. The tree ripped free from the earth with a violent crack, roots tearing loose as soil scattered across the ground.

  Liora froze, impossible, he’s a healer… how does he have strength like that? She thought.

  Morvack laid the trunk on the ground, his free hand glowing deep blue. Water compressed instantly, shaping itself into a razor-sharp blade extending from his palm.

  He worked quickly, slicing the trunk into clean sections with efficient and practiced motions.

  By the time he finished, Liora had forced down the last of her ration. It tasted awful. But she didn’t complain after all she needed the energy.

  Morvack returned to Liora without a word. He knelt beside her, movements careful as he gently took her injured arm. From the pile nearby, he separated several palm leaves, tearing them into long, fibrous strips. He fitted a carved piece of the trunk along her forearm and began wrapping it in place, firm but precise.

  “Don’t use it,” Morvack said, grinning slightly as he finished securing the splint.

  Liora nodded.

  Morvack lowered himself onto the ground beside her, resting his arms on his knees.

  “Do you know why you don’t see many nobles here, Liora?” he asked.

  She shook her head.

  “The only ones who make it through Kazzek’s evaluation are commoners,” Morvack continued. “Because the most important thing in situations like this is willpower. Having a reason strong enough to keep moving forward.”

  He paused briefly.

  “Nobles lack that. Most of them have lived their entire lives with private instructors pushing them, but never truly to their limits.”

  His gaze drifted back toward the clearing.

  “The only real fighters among the nobles usually appear in Ocean Class, ranked fifteen and below. And even then…” he shrugged. “They receive special privileges. Most don’t bother with mentors at all, the only reason this program exists is to give everyone a fighting chance, if you can prove yourselves.”

  He looked at her again. “I hope you can make it,” Morvack continued. “You seem to have a strong reason to move forward.”

  With that, he pushed himself up and began walking away, already moving to treat the remaining students.

  “Good luck,” Morvack said, raising a hand without turning back.

  Liora’s thoughts lingered. A string of reasons surfaced, images of her home, then her mother, sharp and vivid.

  Yes. I can’t give up now, She forced herself upright, teeth clenched.

  After all, Tyka has to go on far longer than I do. I can do this.

  A small smile touched her lips just as Kazzek’s voice thundered across the clearing.

  “Break’s over!” he roared. “If you’re injured, Morvack will treat you. The rest of you, get over here.”

  ****

  Meliodas sat on the bench once again, the day replaying itself in his mind.

  It felt strange how often he had ended up with Professor Aurelius lately. Once again, their conversation had stretched until nightfall discussing creatures, habitats, behaviors, and the subtle differences between monsters and true Straum beasts. Time simply vanished when Aurelius spoke.

  Before heading to Aurelius’ laboratory, Adelion had stopped him.

  He had asked, politely, but with unmistakable curiosity to finally see Owen.

  Meliodas had agreed.

  He summoned the small golem, and as expected, Adelion had been left utterly speechless. Owen demonstrated his capabilities without hesitation, manipulating refined Straum flows with precision and clearing impurities of the ambiente Straum as he absorbed it.

  “What a spectacular familiar,” Adelion had finally said, genuine awe breaking through his usual composure.

  Yet, to Meliodas’ confusion, Adelion hadn’t pushed further. No probing questions. No invasive examinations, he had simply smiled, offered his congratulations, and said: “I’ll see you next session, Please make sure to bring him.” He pointed at Owen then he had left.

  A loud thump snapped Meliodas out of his thoughts.

  He blinked and turned toward the sound but before he could fully register what had happened, an awful smell hit him. He instinctively pinched his nose and started breathing through his mouth.

  “…Liora?”

  She was sitting beside him, no, slumped besides him.

  Liora had collapsed completely, her head resting against Meliodas’ shoulder. Her hair was a tangled mess and her glasses were cracked. Countless cuts covered her arms and legs, dried blood streaking across skin that was still damp with sweat, what remained of her clothes clung to her frame, torn and filthy.

  Meliodas didn’t flinch, he didn’t recoil and only a faint smile was seen on his face.

  A wide grin stretched across Liora’s face as she slept, exhaustion finally claiming her.

  She had passed.