Senior Healer Elira Valcora sat alone in her modest office, the glow of a single ented crystal mp lighting up her office. She held a delicate gss of amber liquor, its subtle warmth fleeting soce against the storm of thoughts in her mind. The familiar sounds of the first-year se of the Imperial Academy Infirmary beyond her door provided a background of fort, but her gaze was fixed on the ripples of her drink, as if seeking answers in its depths.

  It was early in the school year, far too early for the first-year ss to be ag so brazenly against each other. Yet here she was, nursing a drink and p the dangerous pret already set by the as of some of the current crop of first-year ss at the Academy. The i with the Bcksword boy — Krion, she reminded herself — was troubling. Nothing had been said by him, nor by the Sehat had brought the Bcksword s and his bodyguard to the Infirmary, but she could read between the lines. A few discrete inquiries with the Sentinels who had been stationed he Pit yesterday had all but firmed what she suspected. Krion had been forced into a Dungeon by an as-yet-unknown number of ss from other Houses, and he had barely survived the ordeal with his Leporine bodyguard. Already enemies of House Bcksword were seeking to settle the grudges of their Houses in blood before the school year had even properly begun.

  Elira let out a long breath, swirling the liquid in her gss. “It always starts younger with each geion,” she muttered to herself. The Academy was ner to such power pys. After all, its main purpose was not merely to educate the ss of the Empire’s Houses, but to prepare the young nobles for the uing grind of politid power struggles that awaited them beyond this Pocket Pne when they graduated. Adversity, the Imperial doe decred, bred resilience.

  A, Elira couldn’t help but wo the cost of that resilience.

  The Academy’s tacit approval of these flicts — so long as they stayed within carefully prescribed boundaries — was built on a foundation as old as the Empire itself. The idea was a simple one: by exposing ss to the betrayals and rivalries they would face beyond the Pocket Pne of the Imperial Academy, they would be molded into capable leaders and survivors. After all, the thought went, if they couldn’t navigate these treacherous waters now, how could they hope to stand at the helm of their own Houses iure?

  The Senior Healer dowhe st of her drink, the burn ihroat satisfying, as well it should be given the cost of what she had just finished. No, as much as she disliked the approach taken by the Academy, it had stood the test of mauries now. The Houses heir heirs sharpened like bdes, their ing and strength honed in the crucible of their time here.

  Elira set her gss down with a k and leaned ba her chair. She reflected with some distaste on what she would have to look forward to soohan she had expected this year. Bloody duels, injuries from unknown sources, and political maneuvering spilled over into brawls. Thankfully in her decades here, open warfare had never occurred, and direct assassinations in csses had remained off-limits for even the most bloodthirsty or vengeful of ss. Her thoughts returo the s of House Bcksword.

  It left a bitter taste in her mouth, and not from the drink. The young lord, barely more than a boy, was ued and already bearing the weight of a House that had seeer days. Krion’s House was a shadow of its former self, its influend power dimio a husk of what it once was. That much was on knowledge. She’d seen it all before: when a House fell from grace, the sharks circled, eager to strip away ower and influence remained.

  But to force a s of his background into a Dungeon — a lethal, uable enviro — was a new level of ruthlessness.

  Still, she couldn’t deny that Krion had survived, and that was no small feat. She poured another measure of liquor intss and took another sip, her mind cirg back to the night before. She had dohe simple uniform of a low-ranked nurse in order to examine Krion and his panion, Hatsune. Both had been exhausted, battered, and dangerously close to the brink. Yet she had noticed something else — a quiet determination in Krion’s eyes.

  Elira had seen that look before in legionnaires who survived the impossible. It was the look of someone who had been fed, not by choice, but by circumstance. Her thoughts swirled around Krion Bcksword, the s of a deing House whose as the previous night had shaken her more than she cared to admit. What she had learned about his survival i — solo, burdened with an injured bodyguard, and without even a css — was staggering. It defied all logic, all expectation.

  Krion’s performance wasn’t just impressive; it was nearly unpreted. It was ohing for a properly banced group of ss with csses and properly equipped bodyguards to handle a Dungeon with grace, another entirely for an ued s to not only survive but quer a Boss as well. No true training, no css abilities, just raw determination and grit.

  Her posure cracked further as she repyed their versation in her mind. She’d fronted him uhe guise of routine questioning, but her curiosity and disbelief had bled through far more thaended. She wi the memory. It wasn’t often she lost her temper — or her carefully maintained air of superiority — but the absurdity of his situation had pulled her from her usual equilibrium.

  “You were supposed to be posed, Elira,” she muttered to herself, her voice tinged with irritation. But how could she have been prepared for someone like Krion? Her information on him had been accurate at least — House Bcksword’s young s was said to be reserved, g the arroganmon among noble heirs — but even that hadn’t prepared her for the quiet iy in his eyes, the way he’d answered her questions, even the way he had looked on the Leporine as something more than a tool. More, he hadn’t oried to use his rank to shield himself ain her favor, a rarity among the Academy’s first-year ss who usually did so until they learned better.

  Still, had he done so, she wouldn’t have hesitated to put him ba his pce if he had tried. Unnded s or not, her noble rank as a tess carried weight greater than his for now, let alohe fact she might have revealed her position as a Senior Healer. But he hadn’t. His humility, paired with the sheer audacity of his aplishment, had left her uled.

  Yes, she couldn’t deny there was something different about Krion. He hadn’t just survived — he had defied the odds in a way that made her wonder if House Bcksword’s dee might not be as iable as everyone among the peerage assumed. The boy had an indomitable will, that much was clear. But willpower alone wasn’t enough in the Academy. Without allies, without resources and followers, he was vulnerable, no matter how impressive his personal strength. She thought back to the scars she had seen that traced all over his body. Those scars told a story, a sileament to a life far more brutal than any first-year s should have ehe way they crisscrossed his body, standing out starkly against his skin. His scars, bined with what she could guess of his stats, painted a picture of someone who might one day bee a monster — not ieral sense, but in the way that power, tempered by pain and perseverance, could turn a person into somethiraordinary and terrifying. Elira’s fiightened around her gss as a chill ran down her spine. Monsters weren’t born among the nobility; they were made. And Krion Bcksword had begun to dispy the early makings of one.

  She hated mysteries, and Krion was shaping up to be the biggest one she’d entered in years.

  How had he do? How had an uncssed, unprepared sao survive what should have beeaih, dragging an injured bodyguard along with him no less? The thought g her, refusing to let go.

  For a moment, she almost felt sorry for whoever had tried to kill him. Using a Dungeon as a on was an old trick, ohat was usually effective. Dungeons were impartial executioners, and evero ss could fall to their maations if caught off guard. But Krion had survived to quer the Dungeon. His attackers, whoever they were, had uimated him, and that mistake would cost them dearly.

  “They have no idea what they’ve unleashed,” Elira murmured, her voice barely audible over the muffled voices ing from outside her door. She turned her attention from the Bcksword s to what was happening outside her door. Apparently, someone had e to drop off some files with her secretary or was otherwise visiting. Cire was o her position, but she was effit. If she wanted a few minutes for office gossip, that was fih Elira.

  Shifting in her chair, she set the remains of her drink aside. It had dotle to soothe her turbulent thoughts, but she was grateful for the momentary reprieve it offered. She had just begun to reach for the papers she’d been reviewing when there was a kno her office door.

  “e in,” Elira called, her voice measured.

  The door opened and Cire stepped inside, her expression cautious but professional. “Senior Healer Valcora,” the woman began, ining her head, “a pair of Sentinels are here. They wish to speak with you.”

  Elira raised an eyebrow, a flicker of curiosity repg the fatigue etched into her features. Sentinels rarely made formal visits unless something signifit had occurred. “Did they say what it was regarding?”

  “They mentiohe S Bcksword and his bodyguard,” Cire replied. “The lead Sentinel identified herself as J-65.”

  “Very well,” Elira said, rising from her chair. She smoothed the front of her uniform. “Send them in.”

  Her secretary nodded and stepped out, returning moments ter with the two Sentinels in tow. Based on what Cire had said, it was easy to identify J-65 as the one who entered first, their polished armor catg the light of the mp in her office. Behind her followed a sed Sentinel, his stance looser but no less imposing. Both wore the distinctive masks of their position, which hid their expressions behind the smooth, faceless surfaces.

  “Senior Healer Valcora,” J-65 said, her voice even but i. “Thank you for seeing us on such short notice.”

  “Of course,” Elira replied, gesturing toward the chairs opposite her desk. “Please, have a seat.”

  J-65 ined her head but remaianding, their posture remaining straight and formal. “We are here to inquire about the events surrounding s Krion Bcksword and his bodyguard, the Leporine woman, Hatsune. We uand they were brought here after an i involving The Pit.”

  Elira csped her hands in front of her, her expressioral. “That is correct,” she said. “What would you like to know?”

  J-65 wasted no time. “What you tell us about their dition upon arrival? And, more importantly, what transpired in the Dungeon?”

  Elira leaned back against her desk, her gaze steady. “When they arrived, both were in poor dition. Hatusne was gravely injured, suffering from severe blood loss and internal damage in several locations. S Bcksword, while less physically harmed, colpsed from exhaustion almost immediately upon esg the Dungeon. Both received immediate medical attention and were stabilized within the hour. As of this m, they are fully healed, and there have been no plications.”

  “And the Dungeon?” J-65 pressed. “What do you know of what occurred there?”

  Elira hesitated, not out of uainty but caution. The details surrounding Krion’s performan The Pit were extraordinary, and she wasn’t sure how much she was at liberty to share. “I tell you this much: S Bcksword successfully cleared the Dungeon, includiing the Boss.”

  The sed Sentinel, who had remained silent so far, shifted slightly, their masked head tilting as if to firm they’d heard correctly. J-65, however, remained posed. “Cleared the Dungeon? With an injured bodyguard?”

  “Yes,” Elira said simply. “But I don’t think it was a plete clear, only the Boss and the monsters in the way between it and the exit. From what I uand, S Bcksword carried his bodyguard out of the Dungeon himself after defeating the Boss.”

  For the first time, J-65’s rigid demeanor faltered, if only for a moment, though Elira was unsure what emotions the masked woman was feeling. “He carried her out?”

  Elira nodded. “Indeed. His as were nothing short of remarkable, though I ot speak as to the specifics of how he achieved such a feat. S Bcksword was not particurly forthing about the details, and I did not press him. It was clear to me he had endured enough for one night.”

  The Sentinels exged a brief gnce, a silent versation passiween them. J-65 turned back to Elira. “You mentiohat he did not reveal everything. Did he hint at anything unusual or hy?”

  Elira shook her head. “No. He was uandably exhausted and in no state for a thh debriefing. My priority was ensuring his and Hatsune’s recovery, rag every detail of their ordeal.”

  The room began to bee heavy with tension as Elira’s carefully chosen words hung in the air. The two Sentinels remaiill, their postures stiff and unreadable, but the silence alpable. She watched them closely, her own posure intact, though her heart beat faster than she would admit.

  The sed Sentinel, standing just behind and slightly to the side of J-65, was the first to break the silehank you for your cooperation, Senior Healer. We’ll take this information into at.”

  It seemed like the interview was over, and Elira began to rex ever so slightly. But J-65 remained rooted ihe faint tension in her posture suggesting she wasn’t do.

  “Senior Healer,” J-65 said, her voice sharper than before, carrying an iy that made the Elira blink. “If you have any additional information, even simple specution, I would suggest you share it now.”

  Elira stiffened. “I’ve told you what I know. If you’re looking for more, I suggest asking S Bcksword himself.”

  J-65’s tone didn’t soften. “You’ve been at this Academy for years, and your insights are valuable. Tell me — what do you think happened?”

  Elira hesitated again, the Sentinel’s mask failing to tain the feeling of a pierg gaze locked on to her, much as a hawk would watch a mouse before striking. She’d been careful to avoid speg too openly, but J-65’s insistence made it clear this wasn’t a request she could easily deflect. Letting out a slow breath, she went back behind her desk to sit in her chair, folding her hands ly on her desk.

  “If you insist,” she said slowly, puttihoughts in order. “I believe S Bcksword and his bodyguard were deliberately forced into the Dungeon. It’s not unheard of for rival Houses to use such tactics. The Dungeon’s i dangers make it the perfect cover for an attempted assassination. If he and and his bodyguard had perished, no one would have looked further than their own recklessness.”

  The sed Sentinel shifted unfortably at her words, clearly uneasy with the implications of the first assassination attempt among the first-years so soon this year. J-65, however, remained motionless, though something about her stance felt taut, like a b stretched to its limit.

  “And who dod you believe was behind this?” J-65 asked, her voice low but charged with barely restrained anger.

  “I don’t know,” Elira admitted. “I only specute. It would have to be someoh enough influee such a setup but not so high-ranking as to fear backsh if discovered.”

  J-65’s fists ched, the leather of her gloves creaking audibly. Though her mask hid her face, her fury was evident in the rigid lines of her posture. Elira had seeinels angry before, but this was different — personal, almost visceral. For a moment, Elira wondered if she had overstepped.

  “Thank you for your dor,” J-65 said after a moment, her voice tight. She turned sharply to the other Sentinel. “We’re done here.”

  The sed Sentinel nodded quickly, clearly eager to leave. The two of them exited the office without another word, the heavy door closing behind them with a definitive thud.

  Elira released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She leaned ba her chair, staring at the closed door with narrowed eyes. Something about J-65’s rea her. It wasn’t just anger — it ersonal.

  “A Sentinel doesn’t react like that without reason,” Elira muttered under her breath. She tapped her fingers against the armrest of her chair, her mind rag. “What could it mean?”

  Her thoughts lingered on the peculiar exge for a few moments longer, but there was little she could do to uhe truth. She wasn’t about to start prying into a Sentinel’s motives, no matter how straheir behavior. With a sigh, she pushed the matter to the back of her mind.

  There were more immediate s to deal with — personnel issues, for ohe Infirmary had been stretched thin sihe summer months, and the strain was beginning to show. The Academy’s stant need for skilled healers wasn’t limited to its walls; numerous Legions serving in the field required reinforts, and the demand for fresh recruits, and fresh healers, was only growing.

  Elira opehe folder holding information oest roster of didates, skimming through the names and dossiers with practiced efficy. Most were promising, but the challenge y in ensuring they were properly trained before bei off to the front lihe Academy prided itself on produg some of the fi healers in this region of the Empire, and Elira wasn’t about to let that reputation slip under her watch.

  “We’ll o accelerate the training cycle,” she mused aloud, jotting down a few notes. “But not at the expense of quality. If we push too hard, we risk burnout — or worse.”

  Her gaze drifted to the recruitment figures for the erm. The numbers were det, but not as high as she’d hoped. The ongoing flicts across the Empire had made it difficult to attraew talent to the degree it was he prospect of beio the front lines was hardly appealing to most.

  Elira sighed, rubbiemples. “It never ends.”

  Still, she couldn’t afford to dwell on the challenges for long. There was work to be done, and she had a duty to ehe Academy’s healers were prepared for whatever y ahead. With renewed focus, she returo her pnning, the weight of her responsibilities settling fortably on her shoulders.

  But in the back of her mind, the image of J-65’s ched fists and barely tained fury lingered.

  I hope you all ehe test chapter!

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