Chapter 99: Frey is Well-Versed with the Knights Colleges Norms

Chapter 99: Frey is Well-Versed with the Knights' College's Norms

Frey, Lance, and Hyperion walked along the path to the Knights' College in silence, exchanging no conversation along the way.

Jacaranda trees lined the path like guardian spirits, silently proclaiming the mystery and tranquility of the campus. When spring arrived, these trees would proudly display their gorgeous purple blossoms, creating a beautiful, vibrant vitality that drew throngs of students and capital residents to pause and admire them. Such a sight transformed the area into a bustling, lively spectacle.

At the end of the path lay an old wooden building. It was only a single story high, yet it was spacious enough to rival a small martial arts dojo. From a distance, it was obvious that many of the windowpanes were shattered, and the passage of time had left permanent marks on its wooden walls.

Despite the poor exterior, the interior of this seemingly forgotten structure was teeming with life. A cacophony of sounds—laughter, curses, roars, and booming crashes—spilled out, blending together like the chaotic din of a violent, storm-like brawl.

Frey stopped and pointed toward the wooden building as he spoke to his two companions. "This is the place. The group left behind here is nothing but a bunch of stubborn hotheads. Even the dean finds them a headache."

The "dean" he referred to was not Lawrence, the head of the Sages' College, but the Dean of the Knights' College.

"Frey, how should we go about negotiating with them?" Lance asked, looking at the young man who exuded an air of unbridled defiance.

Frey had his sunglasses perched casually on his face that had eyes as sharp as a hawk's. When that was combined with a physique radiating explosive power, it made the other youth resemble an enforcer of a notorious gang.

While such an appearance might not typically suggest a friendly exchange, Lance knew the value of a coordinated approach during official business, aka the good cop, bad cop strategy. Having one negotiator project a tough, uncompromising image while the other adopting a gentle, conciliatory demeanor could effectively disrupt the opposing party's resolve and soften their stance.

Frey first made sure his weapon was securely stowed in his inner jacket pocket, then glanced toward the wooden cabin. "Let me try negotiating first. I'm quite familiar with the rules of the Knights' College."

"I'll leave it to you, then." Lance nodded. After all, he belonged to the Sages' College and wasn't well-versed in the Knights' College's norms, so this was a good opportunity to learn.

Upon witnessing Frey's rough-and-tumble mannerisms, worn like a second skin and reminiscent of a brazen bandit's, Hyperion immediately felt a sense of foreboding. She was certain that this was hardly the standard conduct expected of the Knights' College!

Upon further reflection, she realized the alternatives were hardly better. If Lance were to handle the negotiations, it would likely devolve into a scheme of trickery and swindling. As for herself, her status as a half-demon meant she wouldn't exactly be welcomed with open arms.

Ultimately, Frey, being a "local," was indeed the most suitable choice. As a melee fighter himself, he would presumably best understand the nuances of communication between other warriors.

Hyperion spoke up from the side. "If you need any assistance, we'll back you up."

Frey gave a slight nod and walked forward. "Thanks to you both."

The door stood slightly ajar, as if inviting passersby to enter. In reality, the lock had succumbed to the ravages of time and could no longer close securely. The three members of the student council arrived at the entrance, and they looked into the dimly lit hall.

Inside, a group of burly men had gathered. Some were seated, and some were standing. Each one was clearly a formidable warrior. Even Frey, who was himself a capable fighter, looked like nothing more than an ordinary young man when compared to them.

The oppressive aura radiating from the group was as unstoppable as a wild, surging wave. Despite that, the undisputed leader among them was a woman with long, deep-red hair. She existed on an entirely different level compared to the other members.

Though tall, she appeared quite petite when contrasted with the hulking men surrounding her. She was also dressed in the rugged attire of a melee warrior. Her hair was tied in a high ponytail with bangs sweeping past her right eye, and she wore a chest wrap and trousers, with bandages binding her arms and legs.

Her fiercely aggressive gaze gave her an imposing, domineering air.

Frey pointed at the targets inside the room and whispered the intelligence he had gathered to his two companions. "The leader is Zirvini, a third year student from the Knights' College. She’s Rank 6 and a Gold Licensed Challenger, and has strong morals but a fiery temper. There is very little hope of subduing her through force. The main challenge lies in simultaneously handling the Rank 5 brawler at the three-o'clock position while suppressing the group of Rank 4 fighters."

Lance and Hyperion both turned toward him and nodded in agreement. They fully agreed with his intention to avoid a direct confrontation.

Resorting to violence would not resolve the school dispute, but rather exacerbate it. This would not only violate the principle of campus harmony and damage the student council's positive image, but it might also prevent the scheduled demolition work from being completed on time. Therefore, their objective for the day was to reach an amicable agreement that satisfied both parties.

A burly man inside noticed a slight movement at the doorway. His voice boomed like a gale, stirring up the air currents within the hall. "You three over there! What are you whispering about?"

Hyperion was startled and took a wary step back. She was not adept at dealing with such rude, violent warriors. Lance, however, remained completely composed. He pushed open the door and calmly, "Fellow students, is this the club house for The Warrior's Soul?"

The woman with deep red hair inside the wooden cabin answered with a look of disdain, "That's right."

Her expression hardened, turning stern and hostile. The visitors' composed aura and their inspection-like tone made everyone in the hall immediately think of the student council.

"So, what have you come here for?" asked the club members in unison. Their voices possessed a formidable power capable of terrifying normal freshmen into collapsing to the ground in fear.

However, the three student council members standing at the entrance were clearly no ordinary individuals. They remained unaffected, showing absolutely no fear of the burly men's threats.

Hyperion adopted a strictly professional demeanor, her tone reminiscent of a bank clerk collecting a debt. "We are from the Student Management Council. Per the school administration's decision and the enforcement order from the Fire Department of the Kingdom of Hutton, we are here to clear out this building and have it demolished today."

With Lance there to back her up, she had nothing to fear. No sooner had she spoken, however, than an overwhelming, domineering aura instantly filled the wooden cabin. It was in direct rebuttal to her words, accompanied by a series of furious roars.

"This is a place of great importance to us! You lot lack the soul of a warrior—get out of here!"