Chapter 85: The Problem With Being Strong

( James Vellaroux’s POV)

The first monster died before I fully understood where I was.

My hand closed around the nearest sword.

Not mine.

Too light. The balance leaned toward the tip, the grip was worn, and whoever had forged the blade had cared more about quantity than quality.

But, it would do.

I stepped forward.

Light flowed along the steel as I swung.

The creature’s head separated from its shoulders and struck the stone beside me. Black blood sprayed across the battlement.

Something roared behind me.

I turned immediately.

Another monster had dragged itself over the wall.

Then another appeared behind it.

Good.

Whatever had happened, at least this part was clear.

Kill the enemy.

I moved.

The first creature swung a claw toward my chest.

Too slow.

I stepped inside its reach, drove the sword beneath its ribs, twisted, and pulled free before the second creature reached me.

Its mouth opened.

Space folded.

The courtyard disappeared for half a heartbeat.

I reappeared behind it.

One cut through the back of its knee.

Another across the neck.

It fell.

"James!"

I turned.

Thirty-seven students wearing Zenith uniforms occupied the ruined fortress behind me.

Class Two.

My class.

Some had recovered from the sudden transition already. Others were still staring around as if expecting Zenith’s orientation hall to return if they waited long enough.

A girl near the weapon racks hadn’t moved at all.

Another student stood beside a dead monster with both hands trembling.

At the western gate, someone shouted.

"More coming!"

I looked toward the walls.

The fortress was already damaged badly enough that whoever had defended it before us had clearly lost.

One tower had collapsed entirely.

The western battlement had a crack running almost halfway through it.

Smoke rose from several buildings inside the walls.

And beyond them...

Movement.

Hundreds of figures.

Possibly more.

My grip tightened around the sword.

A translucent message appeared before me.

—

ZENITH FIRST-YEAR SPECIAL EXAMINATION*

Reach the central Citadel before dawn.

Time Remaining: 7:59:12

—

More information followed.

Artifacts restricted.

External equipment restricted.

Personal abilities unrestricted.

Fatal damage meant elimination.

Equipment found within the examination could be used.

I glanced at the sword in my hand.

Convenient.

"Anyone who can fight, get a weapon!"

My voice carried across the courtyard.

That finally broke the remaining confusion.

Students moved toward the racks.

There were enough weapons for everyone.

Spears.

Swords.

Shields.

Bows.

Several sets of armor.

Whoever had controlled this fortress had prepared for a siege.

Apparently not well enough.

A heavy impact struck the eastern wall.

Stone cracked.

Several students stumbled.

Then a massive grey hand appeared over the battlement.

The creature that followed was almost three meters tall, with four arms, thick grey skin, and enough muscle to make the stone beneath its feet fracture when it landed.

The students nearest it retreated.

I didn’t.

Space twisted beneath my feet.

I disappeared from the courtyard.

The next instant, I was above its right shoulder.

My sword came down.

Light exploded along the blade.

The strike cut deeply into its neck.

Not deeply enough.

The creature roared and swung two arms toward me.

I shifted again.

Its hands struck empty air.

I appeared behind its left leg and cut.

Once.

Twice.

The creature staggered.

I moved before it could recover, drove the blade into the base of its spine, then released another burst of Light.

The monster collapsed hard enough to shake the courtyard.

For a moment, everything went quiet.

Then someone cheered.

Several others joined.

I pulled my sword free.

"Don’t cheer."

They stopped.

"Move."

That worked better.

For the next twenty minutes, the situation became simple.

A breach opened.

We closed it.

Monsters climbed the walls.

We killed them.

An Earth mage reinforced the eastern battlement while two archers took position in the remaining tower.

A Plant mage covered the base of the western wall with thorns, forcing smaller creatures toward a narrow opening.

Our SS-potential student proved useful almost immediately.

Tristan Rhael.

Spear.

Lightning.

Fast.

His first thrust punched directly through a monster’s throat. The second creature barely reached the courtyard before lightning burned through its chest.

Good.

He knew what he was doing.

A larger beast reached the northern wall.

I killed it.

Another group broke through the western breach.

I crossed the courtyard and dealt with them.

Three flying creatures descended toward the archers.

Space shifted.

I reached the tower before they did.

One.

Two.

Three.

Bodies fell from the sky.

I landed on the battlement and looked across the battlefield.

The fortress was strong.

Walls.

Weapons.

Defensive positions.

Enough supplies to survive for a while.

If the other classes had started somewhere worse, Class Two had been given the better battlefield.

A grin pulled at my mouth.

I wondered where Elizabeth had ended up.

Probably somewhere requiring an unnecessary amount of thinking.

She would already be reorganizing everyone, identifying resources, considering six possible routes, and somehow making people believe they had volunteered for whatever she wanted them to do.

I had monsters.

I preferred monsters.

A creature climbed over the wall.

I killed it.

"James!"

Tristan again.

I looked down.

He stood in the courtyard, staring up at me.

"What?"

"Get down here."

Another monster appeared on the battlement.

I cut its throat first.

Then shifted down.

Tristan had blood running from a cut above his eyebrow.

Shallow.

"You hurt?"

"No."

"Then what?"

His expression didn’t change.

"We lost three people."

My hand tightened around the sword.

"What?"

He pointed toward the western side of the courtyard.

Three students were missing.

No bodies.

Eliminated.

"How?"

"One got surrounded near the armory."

"Why was he alone?"

"Because six people followed you toward the eastern breach."

I looked toward the eastern wall.

"And the other two?"

"One tried holding the inner gate after the first breach. Another went to help him."

"They should’ve called for support."

Tristan stared at me.

"They did."

I stopped.

The sounds of fighting continued around us.

Arrows.

Steel.

Monster cries.

Stone breaking.

I hadn’t heard them.

Tristan wiped the blood from his forehead.

"You were fighting."

"I was stopping the breach."

"I know."

"Then what exactly are you complaining about?"

"I’m not complaining."

His voice remained calm.

That irritated me more.

"I’m telling you we lost three people while you were killing everything you could reach."

"That’s what I’m supposed to do."

"No."

He gestured toward the fortress.

"You’re supposed to get us to the Citadel."

I looked toward him.

"We can’t go anywhere while monsters surround the walls."

"I know."

"Then we clear them."

"And after that?"

I frowned.

"We move."

"Where?"

"The Citadel."

"Which direction?"

I opened my mouth.

Nothing came out.

Tristan waited.

I didn’t like the look on his face.

Not smug.

That would have been easier.

He was simply waiting for an answer.

"I’ll find out."

"That’s the problem."

My eyes narrowed.

"What problem?"

"You keep doing everything yourself."

"I can reach the breaches faster than anyone here."

"Exactly."

"So?"

"So every time something happens, everyone waits for you to fix it."

"They shouldn’t."

"You’re the class leader."

"I never told them to follow me."

"You shouldn’t need to."

That answer landed harder than I expected.

I looked across the courtyard again.

This time, I forced myself not to look at the monsters.

I looked at my class.

One healer was breathing heavily against the inner wall.

Almost empty.

Two students had abandoned the southern battlement because I had repeatedly appeared wherever the fighting became dangerous.

The archers were nearly out of arrows.

A B-potential student near the gate was limping and still holding position because nobody had rotated him out.

No reserve group.

No controlled ammunition.

No signals between walls.

No assigned fallback position.

If another major breach opened while I was somewhere else, nobody knew who would give orders.

Because every time something went wrong...

I had gone there.

Personally.

Father’s voice surfaced in my memory.

’You attack the problem in front of you because it is satisfying.’

My jaw tightened.

I had disagreed when he’d said it.

Apparently I had been wrong.

Annoying.

"Tristan."

"What?"

"Take six people and reinforce the southern wall."

His eyebrow rose.

"You’re ordering me now?"

"Would you rather keep talking?"

A faint smile appeared.

"No."

"Good. Three stay at the inner gate. Rotate them every ten minutes. Nobody holds a position until they’re exhausted."

Tristan nodded.

I turned.

"John"

An A-potential student near the weapon racks looked over.

"Yeah?"

"Count everything we have left. Bows, arrows, spears, shields. Nobody takes replacements without reporting it."

His expression changed slightly.

Then he nodded.

"Got it."

"Who here has Healing?"

Three people raised their hands.

"One of you stays completely out of combat."

A boy frowned.

"But I can fight."

"And if all three healers get eliminated?"

He stopped.

Exactly.

"You stay back."

I pointed toward another student.

"You. Establish signals between each wall. One flare for a breach. Two for retreat. Three if something large appears."

"Understood."

I looked over the courtyard again.

Better.

Not good.

But better.

What did we actually know?

Almost nothing.

Including where the Citadel was.

"Tristan."

He was already walking away.

He turned.

"What?"

"You’re in command until I return."

That made him stop.

Then he smiled.

"Try not to kill the entire army while you’re gone."

"I’ll consider it."

***

The command tower had survived better than most of the fortress.

Maps covered one wall.

I moved through them quickly.

Local defenses.

Supply routes.

Old villages.

Military positions.

Useless.

Useless.

Useless.

Then...

There.

A larger map.

The central region.

A black symbol marked a fortress near the heart of the kingdom.

ASTERRA CITADEL

Distance...

Roughly four hours on foot.

Maybe less if we pushed.

Longer if we kept fighting.

The timer was already below seven hours and twenty minutes.

We had spent too long inside the fortress.

My eyes moved across the map.

One major road led directly toward the Citadel.

Red markings covered the northern section.

NORTHERN HORDE MIGRATION

I stared at it.

Straight through.

Fastest route.

My first instinct was immediate.

Break through.

Then I remembered three empty places in the courtyard.

And Tristan telling me they had called for help.

I looked again.

A second road curved south.

Longer.

Fewer hostile markings.

My fingers tapped once against the edge of the map.

Direct route would save time.

If everyone could keep pace.

If nobody got separated.

If the horde wasn’t larger than the markings suggested.

Too many ifs.

I hated detours.

I hated losing time more.

But dragging thirty-four people through a monster horde because I could personally survive it would be stupid.

I exhaled through my nose.

South.

Something golden glowed beneath the table.

I stepped aside and kicked the table away.

A disk floated above a small stone pedestal.

Runes covered its surface.

---

GUARDIAN SEAL LOCATED

CLASS TWO GUARDIAN SEAL

---

There we go.

I touched it.

The disk dissolved into golden light.

Another notification appeared.

---

CLASS TWO GUARDIAN SEAL ACQUIRED

Guardian Seals: 2/5

---

I stared at the number.

Two.

Someone else had already found theirs.

Elizabeth?

Probably.

Another message followed.

---

THE CITADEL REQUIRES ALL FIVE GUARDIAN SEALS.

ONE SEAL HAS BEEN ASSIGNED TO EACH CLASS.

---

I read it twice.

All five.

So this wasn’t five separate races.

We needed one another.

That complicated things.

I didn’t like complicated things.

Give me an opponent.

Give me terrain.

Give me a weapon.

Those problems had answers.

Depending on four other classes to survive?

Less convenient.

I memorized the route and returned to the courtyard.

Things had changed while I was gone.

For the better.

Tristan was standing near the southern wall, directing two groups between positions.

John had reorganized the weapons beside the courtyard instead of leaving everyone to grab whatever they wanted.

The healer I had removed from combat was treating the limping student.

Nobody was waiting for me.

I stopped for half a second.

Good.

That was good.

"Everyone!"

Heads turned.

"We’re leaving the fortress."

Several students immediately looked surprised.

One of them shouted, "Why?"

"The Citadel is roughly four hours away and this fortress is already failing."

"We can hold it!"

"For how long?"

Silence.

I pointed toward the cracked western wall.

"Another hour? Two?"

Nobody answered.

"We aren’t here to defend this fortress. We’re here to reach the Citadel."

Tristan approached.

"Direct route?"

"Blocked by a monster horde."

He studied my expression.

"You’re not planning to go through it."

It wasn’t a question.

"No."

His smile appeared immediately.

"Progress."

I pointed the sword at him.

"Say that again and you’re taking point for the entire journey."

"Understood."

"We leave through the southern gate in ten minutes. Take only what you can carry without slowing down."

John raised his voice.

"Spears?"

"Enough for everyone who knows how to use one. Shields for the front and rear. Don’t overload anyone."

"The armor?"

I looked toward the heavy sets resting by the racks.

"Leave most of it. Light armor only."

Several students began moving immediately.

This time, I didn’t move with them.

I almost did.

There were weapons to inspect.

Defenses to check.

People to organize.

My feet actually shifted toward the supply racks before I stopped myself.

No.

John had it.

Tristan had formations.

The healers knew their work.

I didn’t need to touch everything.

That felt wrong.

Then a notification appeared above the courtyard.

---

Guardian Seal acquired: 3/5

---

Three.

Another class had found theirs.

I looked toward the distant mountains beyond the southern wall.

Two remained.

Meaning if either of those classes failed completely, none of us could open the Citadel.

I tightened my grip around the borrowed sword.

That part I couldn’t control.

I didn’t like that either.

But there was something I could control.

My class.

Thirty-four remaining students.

Not thirty-four weapons.

Not thirty-four people who should follow wherever I charged.

Thirty-four people I needed to get out of this fortress alive.

"Tristan."

He looked over.

"Ready?"

"Almost."

"Good."

I stepped toward the southern gate.

Then stopped.

Normally I would have taken the front.

The strongest fighter belonged where the enemy was thickest.

That was obvious.

Except...

If I rushed ahead and everyone followed again, we would repeat the same problem.

I looked toward Tristan.

"You take point."

His eyebrows rose.

"Me?"

"You wanted responsibility."

"I don’t remember saying that."

"You complained loudly enough."

He laughed.

"Fine."

"I’ll stay near the center. If something breaks through, signal me."

He studied me for a moment.

Then nodded.

No joke this time.

"Understood."

The southern gates opened.

Beyond them stretched a narrow road descending between rocky hills.

Monsters moved somewhere in the distance.

I could hear them.

My body wanted to go first.

Sword forward.

Space ready.

Find the threat.

Kill it.

Simple.

Instead, Tristan gave the order.

"Class Two! Move!"

And everyone followed him through the gate.

I remained near the center of the formation.

It felt unnatural.

Very unnatural.

Probably useful.

I rested the borrowed sword against my shoulder and looked back once at the fortress.

Three students had already been eliminated because I had treated thirty-seven people like extensions of my own strength.

That wouldn’t happen again.

At least not for the same reason.

Another roar echoed somewhere ahead.

Light gathered faintly around my sword.

This time, I didn’t move.

I waited for the signal.