Jerome's POV “Professor, are you here—Geh!” I exclaimed, finding Professor Zander slumped down on one of the benches inside the training ground. I startled myself after seeing him in such a state, accidentally slamming the door on the wall. I just arrived after sneaking away from the S-class goons, and I cam here only to find Professor Zander glooming in distress. What the heck, what happened to him? “Uh… Professor, what are you doing?” I asked, approaching him as I scratch the back of my head. Professor’s head was laid low, elbows propped on his knees as if he’s grieving. “Contemplating my life choices,” he said, looking down on the ground. “I don’t know if you know, but a student of mine is suffering from bullying, and I can’t do anything to help that person.” I raised a brow at him. He’s acting like the world is falling apart because of his bullied student. But, if I remember correctly, the students he personally train are only S-class students. And none of us in the S-class a

Vana's POV Ever since Jerome and I got our joint-study room passes, both of us have yet to managed to secretly meet. That was because of our schedules not lining or matching up for two weeks.   Most of our days were spent in training and studying, with both of us rushing to finish our schoolworks that we were unable to accomplish while we were away from our mission. There were also the preparations for the graduation ceremony and graduation ball.   It makes things extremely difficult for us to find time to meet for at least an hour or 10 minutes. Thankfully, we managed to get a free time in the third week, using our time with Professor Zander to head to the library and check out the joint-study room.   My footsteps clang against the floor as I stroll down the halls of the library. I navigated my way through the halls of books, an assortment of titles lined up on each shelf. I located the wing whe

Vana's POV   “Good job fending them off,” Jamra chuckled as we walk out of class, heading to the cafeteria to grab our lunch.   I finally got out of the classroom after our classmates ran over to me to ask me to be their partners. Unfortunately for them, Jamra and I had agreed to be pairs for the practicals, and have been thinking of a way for us to battle with both of us ending with a high grade.   I had filled Jamra in last night about what I learned from Jerome and Professor Zander, excluding the part where Jerome is included in the conversation. Not to be paranoid and distrustful, but people knowing that Jerome and I are training together can flip the world upside-down.   “Don’t get me started, Jamra, like seriously, don’t,” I growled, grunting as we fall in line at the cafeteria.    I grabbed a tray near the counter, taking a plate and a bowl. I filled

Jerome's POV “The culprit might be someone closer than we think. Someone who knows both Master Sergois and Master Ashemere. Someone they trust,” Vana stated, imploring.   “Yeah, if the murderer is not, it would be hard to think how the culprits got inside their private spaces,” I agreed, snorting. “The killer must know the layout of dad’s office and Master Sergis’ home.”   “Which narrows down our list of suspects to people they are trust and are close with,” Vana said.   “I thought we already established that?” I wondered.   “Yes. Which is why we start with people we know that our close to both Master Ashmere and Master Sergis,” she implored, suggesting the idea.   It is possible to head to that direction, but over the years, their close relationships and connections with other people have significantly decreased. And some ended. There’re also the instanc

Vana's POV   My eyes gazed through the opening gap of the gates that leads to the center of the arena. The small arena housed a tall wall circling the center like a cage, rows of seats for the spectators viewing the match of the day.   The sun beamed directly on the open arena, heat scorching against my skin even before it touches me. Beads of sweat dripped down from my forehead, and I gulped, heaving a breath as I prepare to head out on the battlefield.   Weapons armed. My sickles at arm’s length. My battle uniform tight around my skin like an armor. And my mind concentrating control and precision.   “Would you really be okay?” Jamra worried behind me, a concerned look flashing over her face.   A small smile pierced through my tense face. “I’ll be fine. Just watch me,” I stated, full of confidence.   In truth, I don’t trust myself that I can