Chapter 80: The hunt continues

The next day, unexpected news arrived from the administrative barracks. Despite the massive tension that had occurred the previous day, the Headmaster had officially sent out a decree stating that the freshman excursion should continue as planned. The announcement sent an immediate ripple of anxiety throughout the campsite, but the reaction toward Thomas’s group was much more direct.

Ever since Deacon Eider had delivered his public warning outside the tents, a thick wall of isolation had dropped over Class 1-A. The instructors and the other academy students showed visible discomfort whenever they happened to be anywhere near Thomas. People completely averted their eyes, whispering in hushed tones behind the corners of the canvas structures. The alternative classes were actively avoiding his entire group, completely separating them from the general social circle of the camp to ensure they did not draw any unwanted attention from the golden hoods.

Thomas stood quietly near his tent, keeping his face calm as he watched a group of Class 1-B freshmen deliberately turn their backs and walk the long way around the dirt path just to avoid passing him. He did not say a single thing about it, keeping his composure entirely level.

“They are treating us lik a disease,” Ryan muttered, kicking a loose rock into the damp soil. He adjusted the strap of his chest guard, his expression clouding over with frustration. “Even the instructors won’t look us in the eye when they pass the rations.”

Mina and Lina stood close by, their faces neutral but their postures showing the stress of being completely cast out by their own peers. “Let them avoid us,” Mina said softly, though her fingers tightly gripped the hem of her jacket. “We don’t need their help anyway.”

Before the assembly could fully disperse, Sabrina calmly walked over to their grounds to say hi. She moved with her usual relaxed confidence, completely ignoring the heavy, warning stares coming from the senior instructors. But this time, she was quickly followed by her own classmate from Class 1-B. The High-blood boy looked incredibly anxious, his eyes darting toward the administrative stone building where the deacons resided.

“Sabrina, what are you doing?” the classmate asked in a tense whisper, reaching out as if to pull her back by the sleeve. “You need to stop hanging out with this group for your own sake. Did you completely forget what the deacon said yesterday? Being near them is basically begging for a hiding from the Holy Church.”

Sabrina didn’t flinch. She slowly turned her head and looked at her classmate, her deep violet eyes gleaming with a sharp, piercing intelligence that instantly cut off his words. She shook her head smoothly.

“I choose my own company, dude,” Sabrina said flatly, her voice completely detached from his panic. She turned her back on him and looked directly at Thomas, a pleasant smile returning to her attractive face. “We will see each other back at the academy, Thomas. Make sure you stay alive out there.”

She stepped closer, her tone dropping into a serious, quiet whisper that only Thomas could hear. “Be careful.”

With that final warning, she turned on her heels and strolled back toward her class sector, completely ignoring her classmate who was still muttering anxiously behind her. Thomas watched her leave, filing her words away. Despite the total isolation from the rest of the school, having a Grade S talent like Sabrina openly defy the social boundary was a good thing.

Julian emerged from his tent and sat down on his foldable chair to review their deployment map. “The camp is compromised,” Julian spoke smoothly. “But the Headmaster’s order means we still have points to collect. Pack your gear. We are setting out within the hour.”

After the official announcement concluded, Thomas and his group went back inside their tents to change into their hunting attire. Since Thomas and Julian’s customized equipment from the academy forge had still not been delivered to the marshlands, they had to make do with what they had on hand.

Thomas changed back into his old casual clothes from the outskirts, dressing in the same faded linen shirt, dark trousers, and worn-out shoes he had worn when they ran into Subject 4314 inside the cave. The fabric was still slightly damp from the swamp humidity, but his frame felt perfectly light and athletic underneath it. Julian wore his silver armour with the emerald cape draped loosely over his shoulders, but this time, he carried a long, polished steel sword buckled securely to his waist. Ryan wore his cheap leather armour that he had managed to buy in the outskirts market, and the same went for the girls. Mina wore her simple leather guard while Lina topped her look off with the cheap, tattered healer’s cloak before leaving the campsite. They all wore exactly what they were wearing the first time they entered the woods.

Once they stepped past the shimmering energy boundary of the safe dome, the damp, sulfurous smell of the wetland instantly hit their noses. The atmosphere outside was incredibly thick, the dark trees blocking out most of the sun’s light to create a perpetual twilight across the black water.

“Which way are we heading, Tom?” Ryan asked, drawing his short blade as his boots sank an inch into the mud.

“We are going the exact opposite way from Subject 4314’s domain,” Thomas said flatly, pointing his finger toward the western perimeter of the map. “We need to clear our points without walking straight back into that uncharted land.”

Julian checked the compass on his wrist, his bare ebony eyes tracking the faint mana currents in the air. “I agree, but do not assume we are entirely out of danger just because we changed our direction. Subject 4314 explicitly stated that its root networks are incredibly vast. The tendrils are capable of traveling much deeper into the marshland as we have all witnessed when it dragged me under. Simply being present in these marshlands is already highly deadly for us.”

Thomas nodded tightly, keeping his guard up. He knew Julian was right. The creature’s roots could erupt from beneath the mud at any single moment, and with the total lack of support from the instructors who were avoiding them, they were entirely on their own out here.

They began their long, quiet march through the deep muck, their boots making soft, wet squelching sounds against the roots. The further they walked from the campsite dome, the denser the grey fog ever-present in the marsh became, the dark silhouettes of the twisting trees closing in around their flanks. .