Chapter 1286: The Weakest Link

Clearly, they’d been conned.

Conned so thoroughly that one blonde was starting to think he shouldn’t have followed a certain someone’s advice about eating a substantial breakfast, because now it felt like his body wanted to throw every last bit of it right back up!

Ollie stared at the enormous battleships overhead.

This was a field trip?!

Well, sure, if their destination was right on the front lines!

Worse, had these guys fed them false information, or had they all gone senile and forgotten that this supposed trip to some field wasn’t meant to start until two days from today?!

This was just too unjust!

Unsurprisingly, he wasn’t the only one suddenly regretting the complete lack of warning.

Jax and Princess Kira were having similar crises, although theirs had considerably more to do with the partners they’d left behind.

Because those massive battleships certainly didn’t look like they’d descended just to dock for a while before politely sending everyone home again!

And if they were about to leave immediately, what about the children and Killian?

What about Elior?!

In the minds of two people who couldn’t have been more different, yet somehow shared surprisingly similar mindsets at times, neither Jax nor Kira had even been given the chance to properly prepare their loved ones for such a sudden and potentially extended separation!

However, while those two were finally experiencing what it was like for most people who actually had things to worry about whenever they were deployed, next to the admittedly gawking tanks was the literally short valley named Luca Kyros.

And much to one guardian mecha’s complete lack of surprise by this point, the golden-eyed cadet went from momentarily stunned by the sight overhead to gravely concerned about an entirely different emergency.

Their preparations were supposed to start after the orientation. What about all the food for the trip?!

"..."

Sid could already tell that some unusual gears were moving in the little master’s mind, but what could he do except be grateful that Luca hadn’t taken things any worse than this?

Then again, it might’ve had something to do with the fact that the golden-eyed cadet still couldn’t confirm exactly what was happening, but he already had the sinking feeling that all those grand plans involving specially prepared lunch boxes, neatly packed snacks, and enough food to share during the journey were now in serious danger of never happening.

In that case, how were they supposed to have a proper field trip without field trip food?!

Unfortunately, the worried yet somehow still excitable cadet didn’t get much time to mourn the potential loss.

Because after offering the most basic good morning imaginable, the Vice Principal of the Royal Military Academy immediately announced:

"From this point onward, please note that your terminals have been reduced to their most basic functions. Attempts to contact anyone outside the permitted list will not go through. For those concerned about notifying your guardians regarding changes to the schedule, rest assured that the Academy has already taken the necessary steps."

"!"

Almost instinctively, cadets throughout the Training Hall looked down at their terminals.

Screens flickered to life one after another.

Then, right before their increasingly disbelieving eyes, the same words appeared across every display.

[ACCESS RESTRICTED]

"..."

The entire Training Hall seemed to freeze.

That was it.

No lengthy introduction.

No explanation of who Vice Principal Wesley March was for the benefit of the visiting cadets.

Not even an introduction to the thousands of unfamiliar people who normally had absolutely no reason to be standing inside the Royal Military Academy!

The man simply went straight for the communication restrictions.

Then again, perhaps he’d decided that particular information had become slightly urgent.

Because the moment those battleships appeared overhead, quite a few freshmen had instinctively reached for their terminals.

Now, several of them stood with their fingers frozen in the middle of what had clearly been an attempt to send hurried messages without attracting attention, looking suspiciously similar to nervous students caught secretly texting underneath their desks.

"What...?"

"They already restricted them?"

"When did they even do that?"

Meanwhile, D-29 gave a curious little chime.

"Oh! So that’s why all the student terminals have the same thing!"

Luca blinked.

"What? All the terminals?"

"Yes, Host! Probably upon enrollment. It was already on yours when we got here. But I can simply bypass it if you want to use your terminal normally! Or I can just send any communications for you."

Huh.

The dungeon owner found that rather interesting and actually considered the offer for a moment.

But when he glanced toward his husband, Sid’s voice conveniently sounded in his head.

Master says it’s part of the same technology used to track cadets once they’re officially declared missing.

Oh.

Well, if Xavier wasn’t worried about it, Luca figured it was probably fine to leave things as they were.

D-29 could handle any communication he needed anyway.

Unfortunately, the rest of his batchmates didn’t exactly have their own little dungeon system conveniently tied to them, so it was understandable that confused murmurs quickly began spreading through the formations.

For a group of people training to become future soldiers, it was admittedly a rather emotionally charged reaction.

Especially when compared to the older cadets from the other academies.

Those people barely seemed fazed.

If anything, several looked suspiciously entertained by the reactions of the freshmen around them.

Unfortunately, none of the nearly two thousand five hundred first-year cadets were given enough time to properly complain.

Vice Principal March finally moved on to the actual reason they’d all been gathered there.

And as though whatever came next required something considerably more dramatic than a simple verbal explanation, a massive holographic projection suddenly flared to life above the Training Hall.

The murmurs gradually died.

Thousands of faces tilted upward.

Bold letters materialized across the enormous display.

[CREX]

A second line appeared beneath it.

[CONTESTED RECOVERY AND EXTRACTION EXERCISE]

"..."

Whatever remained of the freshmen’s wonderful little field trip?

Apparently, nothing but hopes and foolish dreams.

__

Meanwhile, inside the monitoring room, several instructors and administrative officers were stationed before rows of displays, keeping track of the students while coordinating the next procedures.

And quite a few of them were already dreading the next slide.

Mostly because they knew exactly what Vice Principal Wesley March, who’d been unfortunate enough to receive the job of explaining the entire premise of this year’s activity, was about to say.

Down in the Training Hall, the Vice Principal commanded the absolute attention of the cadets as his voice boomed through the speakers.

"From your days in Junior Academy until now, most of your practical training has taken place under extremely controlled conditions, with as few unpredictable variables as possible. However, after spending this long training within your respective divisions, and in preparation for moving up to the next year, it’s time to see how those individual skills function alongside those of your peers and assess your compatibility with your current specialization."

His sharp gaze swept across the gathered freshmen.

"As you already know, our military relies heavily on teamwork, and any team is only as capable as its weakest link."

A few expressions immediately tightened at that.

"So this exercise has been intentionally designed to catch you off guard. You will enter it with only your current level of preparation, along with whatever materials, supplies, and intelligence are provided to you."

Vice Principal March paused.

"Real emergencies rarely wait until you’re ready. When time is of the essence, you respond with what you have."

That certainly explained the sudden communication restrictions.

It also explained why they’d apparently been tricked into showing up before anyone could start preparing specifically for whatever CREX was supposed to be.

The Vice Principal then gestured toward the orderly formations of older cadets occupying the Training Hall.

"However, this year, we’re fortunate enough to partner with several institutions and divisions to elevate the scope of this training exercise."

Inside the monitoring room, Instructor Moore’s eye twitched.

Fortunate.

Right.

That was certainly one way to describe it.

"As such, we welcome some of the finest cadets from the Empire’s leading military academies."

The older cadets remained standing at attention while thousands of RMA freshmen looked toward them with considerably more suspicion than before.

Vice Principal March turned his attention back to his own students.

"First-year batch of the Royal Military Academy, I expect you to take full advantage of this opportunity and learn what you can from a fruitful competition with your seniors."

Fruitful.

Instructor Moore stared at the feed.

Not even friendly!

Then again, perhaps it was better that the Vice Principal hadn’t bothered lying that much.

Because nothing about the ridiculous pile of petitions they’d received suggested that the other academies had come here purely in the spirit of friendship!

And partner?

Please.

They’d practically been coerced into turning what should’ve been their own first-year field training into this all-too-stupid event just for those schools who normally didn’t send guilds to the Astral Cup!

Unfortunately, Moore also understood why the other academies had pushed so hard to participate.

The disparity had simply become too difficult to ignore.

Some of the freshmen currently standing in that Training Hall had already demonstrated abilities that far exceeded those of many active soldiers and licensed mechanics. And once that happened publicly, there was no realistic way the other institutions were going to quietly sit back and pretend they weren’t interested in discovering their secrets or, at the very least, measuring their own best students against these genius cubs.

But that didn’t mean Moore had to be happy about it.

His leg had already started bouncing beneath the console, and at this rate, he was going to develop a permanent nervous tic before they even got the students onto the battleships.

He looked back at the live feed.

Several of the freshmen he’d taught were staring at the holographic display with expressions better suited to people who’d just been informed about an upcoming culling.

Moore grimaced.

And they hadn’t even announced the rules yet.

Or the groupings.

"..."

Well.

Hopefully, the kids could hang on for dear life.