[ The Main Grounds, Hill Academy ]
"You, you need to bring a—"
The voice cut off as my eyes snapped open. The first thing I saw was the harsh morning light hitting my white scholar's robe hanging against the warped wood of the old closet. My eyes rolled across the room, searching instinctively for Laohu, before I realized the absolute silence of the house. I bolted upright, my heart jumping into my throat. It was past six in the morning. The Academy gates locked at seven.
"I will surely kill you, Laohu," I snarled under my breath, diving out of bed.
I threw the robe over my shoulders, splashed cold water over my face, and sprinted through the front doors, practically fighting my own boots as my heels struggled to slip inside the stiff leather. Halfway down the gravel path, I realized my hands were empty. I groaned, turning on my heel to race back inside, snatch my entry documents and inkstone, and bolt back out into the street.
The main thoroughfares of the capital were already choking with spectators and upperclassmen heading toward the northern ridge. I didn't have the luxury of listening to the morning rumors; I tucked my sleeves into my belt and ran at a full sprint until the massive stone archway of the Hill Academy materialized through the morning mist.
The entry line was already stretching down the hillside. Long tables and heavy silk tents had been erected across the cobblestone plaza, where the Minister of Education and a dozen high-ranking proctors were systematically verifying identities and issuing academic tassels.
A dense crowd of imperial citizens lined the barricades, cheering and whispering as they caught glimpses of the lucky twenty-five who had survived the most brutal examination matrix ever designed. I scanned the middle of the line, instantly spotting Laohu's straight, broad shoulders. The absolute nutjob had left me sleeping just to ensure his own timely arrival. He is dead to the world the moment we get a recess, I thought, my jaw clenching.
Near the grand iron doors stood Teacher Pu, his posture rigid, his expression an unreadable mask as he monitored the arrivals.
Every student present wore the uniform of the institution: a pristine, heavy white silk robe. The only distinction lay in the embroidered silk borders running along the collar and cuffs, separating the cohorts by seniority:
Lining ColorCohort StatusGreenNewly Admitted Scholars (Our Batch)BlueSecond-Year ScholarsPurpleSenior Scholars / Imperial Heirs
Because I had arrived at the tail end of the hour, I was forced to the absolute back of the line. Before the line could even shift forward, the rhythmic thud of heavy cavalry echoed from the opposite side of the plaza. Three ornate, black-lacquered carriages bearing the crest of the Second State Minister halted near the gates.
Four young men stepped down from the first carriage, their white robes bordered in brilliant blue and green silk. The candidates ahead of me immediately turned their heads, their voices dropping to hushed, reverent whispers.
"Those are the descendants of the Yun Clan," the student directly in front of me murmured to his companion. "Their father controls the entire administrative court."
"The one with the blue trim is Yun Ho Sok," the second student replied, nodding toward a tall, broad-shouldered youth who carried himself with an easy, approachable dignity. "They say his martial metrics are unmatched in the upper class. He's the chosen heir of the clan, but he's remarkably kind to the lower cohorts. We won't have to deal with him much since he's a senior batch ahead of us."
"But look at the brother behind him—our batch. The one who claimed second place on Monday: Yun Ji Wok. They say he can master any discipline within an hour. He's completely aloof, never speaks to the ordinary households, but he's incredibly patient under pressure."
I watched silently as Yun Ji Wok stepped away from his family's guard line. Instead of using his family's immense political leverage to skip to the front of the entry gates, he walked with a slow, elegant stride all the way to the very back of the plaza, quietly taking his position directly behind me.
I leaned forward, nudging the student in front of me. "Why isn't he entering straight through the VIP pavilion? As the Minister's son, he has the legal right to bypass the queue."
The student glanced back, startled by my question, before whispering, "Master Ji Wok despises breaking institutional rules. He demands absolute equality in training. He is righteous to a fault."
I gave a silent, tight nod. A sensible man, I thought, though a strange tension twisted in my chest. He was the exact same blue-robed stranger who had dragged me into the shadows to save my life on Friday night. But he was also a direct descendant of the Yun Clan—the very faction that had financed the destruction of Weiyou. I needed to keep my distance.
Before I could dwell on it, a slender youth vaulted down from the second carriage, laughing loudly as he twirled an expensive silk fan between his fingers. He lacked the cold, military posture of the Yun brothers, emitting an aura of pure, unbothered leisure.
"That's Niu Qui Run," the student ahead of me whispered again. "The only grandson of old General Niu. The boy prefers music and the theater, but the General forced him to sit for the exams to beat the artistic softness out of his swordsmanship."
Qui Run sauntered over, settling into line right behind Ji Wok.
Suddenly, a massive, gilded carriage pulled by four white stallions swept to the front of the gates. The door opened, and a tall, sophisticated figure stepped onto the cobblestones. He possessed a sharp, cutting gaze and a suffocatingly dominant presence. The entire plaza instantly fell into a deep, synchronized bow. I remained standing for a fraction of a second, noticing that Ji Wok was watching me from behind with an intense, questioning look, before I quickly lowered my head alongside the rest.
"Make way for His Imperial Highness, the Second Prince, Wang Nu Lee!" the herald shouted.
The prince wore the heavy purple trim of a senior scholar. He ignored the assembly entirely, marching through the main archway with his personal guards trailing behind him.
As the carriages dispersed, the line finally began to move quickly. Behind me, I could hear Qui Run and Ji Wok conversing in low tones.
"Where is Tae Hua?" Qui Run asked, his fan clicking shut.
"His Majesty likely had to deploy the imperial eunuchs to drag him out of bed," Ji Wok replied dryly. "He never learns. The Emperor will ensure he enters these gates by force if necessary."
Along the perimeter road, groups of young noblewomen were giggling behind their silk sleeves, some of them even throwing dried plum blossoms onto the stone path as the elite candidates passed. I grimaced at the display, keeping my eyes fixed ahead.
When I finally reached the registration table, Teacher Pu's face was dark with suppressed anger. "How dare you arrive late on the first day of the academic calendar?" he muttered, his voice cutting like a razor.
Before I could offer an excuse, the proctor at the ledger called out my registered identity: "Dan Wei Cheng of the Dan Household."
I reached out my hand to claim my green-bordered identity tassel, but a violent commotion at the gate threshold stopped us. Two imperial eunuchs and three gate guards marched into the plaza, literally dragging a young man by his white silk sleeves. They thrust him forward, forcefully breaking the structure of the line to insert him directly in front of me.
It was the Third Prince, Wang Tae Hua.
The eunuchs bowed deeply, tossed his embroidered academic bag to the proctors, and vanished back toward the palace. The officials at the registration table panicked, scrambling over each other to find the prince's royal tassel.
My eyes narrowed to slits. My hand shot forward, grabbing the heavy silk fabric at the back of Tae Hua's collar, and I forcefully shoved him backward, throwing him out of the entry clearance.
"He is supposed to fall in line at the back like every other candidate," I said, my voice echoing clearly across the sudden quiet of the pavilion.
Prince Tae Hua turned around slowly, staring at me with an expression of pure, unadulterated disbelief. Teacher Pu's jaw tightened, his eyes flashing a silent, frantic warning for me to cease my defiance. I ignored it, offering the frantic proctor a cold, forced smile.
"Instructor Pu, you just reprimanded me for arriving near the hour, yet you are prepared to grant a lenient pass to the latest applicant in the capital? Is the Hill Academy's legendary code of equality merely a decorative script for the commoners?"
Without waiting for an answer, I grabbed Tae Hua's shoulder, shoved him firmly behind me, and snatched my green tassel from the table.
Tae Hua's face flushed with a dangerous, dark rage. He stepped into my space, his voice dropping to a low hiss. "Do you have any idea who I am, you insignificant insect?"
"Who cares who you are?" I replied, looking him dead in the eye without a single trace of fear. "Falling in line requires basic spatial awareness, not an imperial bloodline."
Behind us, Niu Qui Run burst into a loud, delighted chuckle, using his fan to block Tae Hua from moving forward again. "Let it go, Tae Hua. The academy has strict regulations this year. Follow them."
"Enough, Tae Hua. Do not disgrace the family on morning one," Ji Wok commanded from the rear, his voice calm but carrying an unyielding weight that made the Third Prince halt. Ji Wok looked at me, his hazel eyes unreadable as he gestured for me to pass through the threshold.
I gave a sharp nod, gripped my green tassel, and stepped across the iron boundary.
One point to Weiyou, I thought bitterly. The prince might not remember brushing his shoulder blades against mine during Monday's scoring announcement, but my memory was flawless. I didn't care if his family owned the entire Arghon soil; inside these walls, he was just another target.
Laohu caught up to me near the interior courtyard, his hand grabbing my elbow to steady my stride. "Are you completely insane? You just assaulted the Third Prince at the registration desk!"
I yanked my arm back, glaring at him with pure irritation. "How dare you leave the estate without waking me, Laohu?"
"I didn't leave you intentionally! The gate guards closed the lower road early for the royal carriages, so I had to take the ridge path at dawn!"
I reached up, catching the tip of his ear between my fingers and twisting it hard until he winced. "You are actively testing the limits of my patience this week, Tiger."
"I'm sorry! Let go, Cheng, the instructors are watching!"
The Division of the Cohorts
The twenty-five newly passed scholars were aligned in a rigid five-by-five formation across the polished stone of the main training ground. The morning sun was climbing higher, burning away the mountain fog. Laohu stood directly to my left, while the three noble heirs who had arrived late were positioned to his flank.
Teacher Pu stepped onto the elevated wooden dais, his long instructor robes catching the wind. He was the official Grand Martial Arts Instructor for the first-year cohort.
"Look to your left and to your right," Teacher Pu's voice boomed across the silent courtyard. "The individuals standing beside you are your brothers-in-arms for the duration of your academic life. Your performance, your logistics, and your housing shall be bound together."
"The five highest cumulative scorers from Monday's trials shall step forward. You have been designated as the Headmasters of the five fundamental academic dormitories. You shall command your units, and the remaining candidates shall align themselves under your banners."
He unrolled the registry scroll:
Bai Ku Ji — Designated Leader of Dormitory 1
Ok Ra Chun — Designated Leader of Dormitory 2
Tsa Wi Yiq — Designated Leader of Dormitory 3
Yun Ji Wok — Designated Leader of Dormitory 4
Dan Weicheng — Designated Leader of Dormitory 5
I stepped forward to claim my leader's crest. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched the selection process unfold.
Bai Ku Ji—the top scorer of our batch—came from a remote northern farming village. He was rumored to be an absolute prodigy of strategy, possessing a cold, machine-like focus that perfected any task assigned to him. Ok Ra Chun belonged to an elite merchant family from the Eastern Kingdoms, specializing in maritime trade logistics. Tsa Wi Yiq hailed from the Western territories, a descendant of high-tier literary scholars.
The moment Teacher Pu dismissed us to form our units, Laohu immediately sprinted to my side, taking his place as my right hand. He was followed by Pei Hang, the bulky, powerful commoner who had claimed a top slot in the agility trials alongside him. Next came an archer from Monday's bracket whom I had briefly spoken with during the target resets, and lastly, a small, remarkably timid boy who had been left at the back of the queue.
I smiled at my team. "Dormitory Five is complete."
The residential quarters were split by a massive, perfectly manicured central garden. Dormitories One through Three were directed to the left wing of the compound, while Dormitories Four and Five were assigned to the right.
My teeth gritted as our group followed behind the shadow of Dormitory Four. As we reached the residential corridor, Yun Ji Wok opened the heavy cedar door to his unit. As I attempted to pass his threshold to reach the door of Dormitory Five down the hall, Wang Tae Hua stepped into my path.
Before I could react, his hand shot out, clamping around my right wrist with a crushing, agonizing pressure. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming. My right hand had been severely calloused and bruised from the raw force of Monday's archery trial, and the skin beneath my linen wrapping was currently raw and bleeding. The sudden compression sent a white-hot flash of agony up my arm. I forced my expression to remain entirely deadpan, meeting his volatile gaze as I slowly, deliberately wrenched my wrist out of his grip.
"You're injured?" Tae Hua muttered, his eyes dropping to the stained linen cloth peeking out from my cuff. A dark, mocking smirk twisted his lips. "I suppose an ordinary commoner has to tear his own muscles apart just to match the natural archery metrics of the nobility."
I didn't answer him. I took a step forward, but as I passed his shoulder, he drove his elbow violently into my ribs, throwing me off balance.
My boots slipped on the polished wood floor. I braced myself for the impact of the stone ground, my eyes shutting instinctively, but the fall never came. A strong, steady arm caught me by the waist, anchoring my weight instantly.
I opened my eyes to see Yun Ji Wok holding me steady, his hazel eyes looking down at me with a calm, analytical intensity. I immediately pushed myself out of his embrace, stepping back into our dorm's threshold.
"Nice try, Prince Tae Hua," I said smoothly, a sharp smirk returning to my face as I ignored Ji Wok entirely, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a thank-you.
"Are you alright, Cheng?" Laohu demanded, his hand resting instinctively on his belt as he glared back at the open door of Dormitory Four.
"Am I?" I barked, my voice cracking with suppressed pain.
The raw energy in my voice sent the other three boys scrambling inside the room in panic. They quickly set about selecting their bunks, leaving me with the single, isolated bed located at the very back of the room near the window—the perfect position to hide my nighttime routines.
Once our packs were unburdened, I prepared a hot pot of chamomile tea I had smuggled in my rations, setting it in the center of our wooden table. "Sit," I commanded gently. "Let us get acquainted with the people who will be covering our backs."
I took a seat, raising my cup. "I am Dan Weicheng. It is an honor to lead this unit."
Laohu stood up next, his movements fluid as he demonstrated his reach. "I am his cousin, Dan Laohu. If you need something moved across the courtyard in under three seconds, I am your man."
The bulky boy stepped forward next, his knuckles scarred from labor. "I am Pei Hang. My family runs the central cargo markets in the lower district. I lack noble manners, but my iron metrics are solid."
The third boy offered a polite, dignified bow. "I am Cha Eun Jo, son of Prime Minister Cha."
I nearly choked on my tea, staring at him in absolute disbelief. The Prime Minister's son? Yet, he carried himself with zero aristocratic arrogance. I remembered Teacher Pu mentioning Minister Cha during our journey south; he was the only member of the high council who had openly questioned the Emperor's aggressive border expansions, maintaining an unshakeable reputation for righteousness since the dynasty took power.
Eun Jo chuckled softly, noticing my shock. "Do not worry, Leader Dan. Within these walls, I am merely another green-trim scholar. By the way, your marksmanship on Monday was the finest display of archery I have ever witnessed."
"You flatter me, Brother Cha," I replied, bowing my head in genuine shyness.
We all turned our attention to the final, most silent boy in the corner. He was staring down at his lap, his fingers nervously tracing the polished wood of a traditional southern flute tucked into his sash.
"And what about you, friend?" I asked softly, offering a warm smile. "What is your name?"
"I am... Han Chou Xi," he whispered, his voice trembling slightly. "From the Southern principalities."
"You are the hereditary Prince of the Han Kingdom?" I blurted out, my eyes widening. Except for Cha Eun Jo, the entire room went stiff.
Eun Jo reached over, gently patting Chou Xi's shoulder. "He is remarkably timid, but do not underestimate him. His parents perished during the southern tribal wars years ago, leaving his grandmother, the Queen Regent, to raise him. He is the sole legitimate heir to the southern throne."
I offered a deep, formal bow to the small prince. "Dormitory Five is uniquely blessed, it seems."
Our small unit was an anomaly: a royal crown prince, a prime minister's heir, an elite cargo laborer, a Weiyou scout, and a woman in disguise.
Chou Xi tilted his head, his voice small as he looked at me. "Leader Dan... what is the source of the friction between you and the Third Prince? He looked as though he wanted to execute you at the gates."
"He skipped the registration line," I said dryly, taking another sip of tea. "And I dislike people who believe their bloodline exempts them from basic manners."
Pei Hang nodded grimally. "I suggest we avoid the influential factions as much as possible. A single word from the royal family can ruin an ordinary household."
"Agreed," I said, leaning over the table. "As long as Dormitory Four keeps their hands off our unit, I will maintain the peace. But the moment they cross our threshold, we strike back. Understood?"
I placed my hand in the center of the table. One by one, Laohu, Eun Jo, Pei Hang, and Chou Xi stacked their palms over mine.
"Dormitory Five!" I shouted, tossing our hands into the air. The boys burst into a shared, loud laugh, the initial tension completely evaporating from the room.
The Politics of the Banquet
"Lunch is being served at the open pavilion," Cha Eun Jo announced, checking the sun's position through the window. "We should move before the senior cohorts occupy the central tables."
Among our group, Eun Jo was clearly the master of capital logistics, Laohu possessed the raw speed, Pei Hang held the physical power, and Chou Xi carried the cultural artistry. My only job was to set an unshakeable example and allow their individual strengths to shine.
As we entered the massive, open-air banquet hall, hundreds of scholars from all three tiers were already gathered at their respective tables. Suddenly, the entire eastern side of the pavilion fell silent as a contingent of purple-bordered seniors marched into the hall.
At the center of the group walked Prince Wang Nu Lee—the ruthless Second Prince of Arghon.
I watched him take his seat at the elevated high table, his personal clique laughing loudly as his dark eyes drifted across the room, lingering on my green-trimmed robe for a calculated moment before turning away. He rose a moment later, sauntering over to a lower-tier scholar's table, and casually kicked the boy's rice bowl off the bench, sending the food scattering across the dirt.
My fingers clenched around my chopsticks. A family of pure bullies, I thought bitterly. Does the Emperor completely ignore the education of his sons? Except for the firstborn, these princes are absolute trash.
Before the incident could escalate, the Third Prince, Tae Hua, stepped into the aisle, blocking his older brother's path. "Stop creating a public spectacle, Brother. The instructors are monitoring the hall."
Prince Nu Lee sneered, brushing past his shoulder. "What? Are you already claiming this pavilion as your personal territory, little brother?"
"I am claiming nothing," Tae Hua replied, his voice deadly low.
I leaned closer to Eun Jo, keeping my voice down. "What is the true nature of their rivalry? They look as though they are ready to draw steel over a rice bowl."
Eun Jo leaned in, his lips barely moving. "The Second Prince has spent years pursuing his maternal cousin—the Princess of the North. But the Princess has refused his courtships, favoring the prospects of the Third Prince instead."
"They are destroying a dining hall over a girl?" I asked, incredulous.
"No," Chou Xi countered from across the table, his timid demeanor vanishing into a sharp, political clarity. "They are fighting for the Dragon Throne. The Princess of the North is the sole hereditary heir to the entire Northern military vanguard. Whichever prince secures her hand secures the absolute favor of the Emperor and the largest army in the realm."
"A trophy wife," I muttered, a wave of disgust settling in my stomach. "They are carving up her future without even asking what she desires."
"Actually," Eun Jo added, "the Princess herself declared she will only wed the designated Crown Prince of Arghon. Since Tae Hua is the only legitimate child born to the ruling Empress, there is an immense probability he will inherit the title."
"But they are from the exact same clan lines," Laohu stated, looking thoroughly repulsed. "The Princess and the Third Prince share the same ancestral blood. That is absurd."
"Exactly," Eun Jo agreed. "The royal houses insist on intra-clan marriages to keep the lineage pure and prevent foreign blood from accessing the treasury."
Laohu and I exchanged a synchronized look of absolute horror, making a theatrical gagging motion in unison. "Gross," we murmured.
"Prince Nu Lee was actually betrothed to the Princess when she was only five years old," Chou Xi whispered, leaning in further. "But the Northern state has been trying to dissolve the contract lately."
I stared into my tea, my mind flashing back to the burning plains of Weiyou. The Yun Clan has always been driven by absolute greed, I thought. I highly doubt the dissolution of that engagement is the Princess's own idea. The Northern elders are simply realizing they can trade her to whichever prince claims the crown first.
Before the royal dispute could turn violent, Yun Ji Wok stepped between the two princes, calmly gripping Tae Hua's shoulder and steering him away from the dais. Blood relatives prepared to slaughter one another for a scrap of imperial power.
I stood up, leaving my half-eaten meal on the table. The heavy flow of capital corruption was already making my head ache. I left the pavilion alone, needing fresh air before the afternoon sessions began.
Phase IV: The Armory Selection
Following the midday recess, the first-year cohort was gathered in the Grand Weapon Pavilion for the formal armory selection. We were seated according to our dormitory ranks, placing me directly at the front line alongside the other four leaders.
Bai Ku Ji was called first. He stepped up to the massive weapon racks, his eyes scanning the steel before his fingers locked around a rare, heavy iron chain-whip. As he returned to his seat, he cast a lingering, competitive glare directly at me. He was a long-range combat specialist—he recognized me as his primary rival.
The leaders of Dormitories Two and Three followed, selecting a heavy infantry spear and a defensive monk's spade.
Then, Yun Ji Wok stepped forward. Without hesitation, he reached for a beautifully forged, single-edged sword hilt wrapped in pure white jade. He claimed the weapon and returned to his seat beside me without a word.
"Dan Weicheng," the master-at-arms called out.
I stood up, walking past the racks of shimmering broadswords, iron spears, and standard shortbows. My steps didn't falter until I reached the very back of the pavilion, where a single weapon sat isolated on a velvet cloth, covered in a thin layer of undisturbed dust.
It was a massive, recurved longbow forged from obsidian-dark iron, paired with a quiver of heavy, golden-tipped arrows.
The weapon was known across the capital records as The Cursed Bow.
The master-at-arms stepped forward, his face pale as I reached for the iron frame. "Leader Dan, I must advise caution. That specific weapon possesses an unstable draw-weight and a violent recoil. Throughout history, every archer who has attempted to wield it has had their fingers and forearms lacerated by the high-tension wire strings. The level of operational difficulty is catastrophic. Once you sign the registry for a primary weapon, the choice cannot be amended."
I ignored his warning, lifting the heavy iron bow. The sheer weight of it strained my injured right wrist, but I clamped my fingers tight around the grip, turning back to face the cohort.
The pavilion erupted into an immediate wave of hushed mocking and disbelief.
"He truly believes he is a god because he topped a common qualification bracket," Tae Hua sneered loudly from his bench, not bothering to hide his voice. "He cannot even handle a standard hunting bow without wrapping his wrist in bandages, yet he claims the Cursed Bow? Pure arrogance."
"Only a single master in the entire history of the academy has ever successfully drawn that wire string without losing a finger," another noble student agreed, laughing softly. "The boy is signing his own failure code."
I let out a slow, silent breath, tuning out their voices. Laohu shifted on his bench, preparing to stand up to defend me, but I caught his eye and gave a sharp, downward jerk of my chin, forcing him to remain seated.
They knew nothing. They didn't know that Master Cui was the very instructor who had designed the tactical forms for the original user of this bow. During my youth in the northern camps, I used to sneak into Master Cui's private tent at midnight, stealing this exact model of high-tension bow to practice my alignment against the mountain winds. The thick linen wrappings across my right hand weren't from a recent injury; they were covering the permanent, deep structural calluses earned from years of pulling wire strings.
The true secret of the weapon didn't lie in the tension of the iron frame, as the capital myths claimed. The danger lay in the weight of the golden arrows themselves—they were forged from an incredibly dense, unbalanced alloy designed to penetrate three armored vanguard soldiers in a single trajectory. It wasn't a cursed bow; it was a payload system.
As my thumb brushed the golden tips of the arrows inside the quiver, the sharp metal instantly sliced through my skin. A single droplet of crimson blood welled up, which I calmly rubbed off against the inner lining of my white sleeve before taking my seat.
The weapon selection continued smoothly:
Dan Laohu selected a massive, double-headed broadsword, perfectly matched to his high-speed, circular evasion forms.
Cha Eun Jo selected a set of concealed iron daggers, opting for close-range precision.
Han Chou Xi claimed a unique, heavy iron flute that concealed a spring-loaded rapier within its core.
Pei Hang chose a massive, double-bitted battle axe, utilizing his raw labor endurance.
The moment the session was formally dismissed, my unit gathered around my desk, their faces tight with concern.
"Why would you handicap yourself with a cursed weapon on day one, Weicheng?" Pei Hang asked, staring at the dark iron bow slung across my back.
I shrugged, adjusting the leather strap across my shoulder. "First, because no one else had the courage to claim it, which leaves the entire tactical array of this weapon completely unpredictable to our rivals. Second, if I remain within my comfort zone using lightweight wooden bows, I will remain the exact same Weicheng who fled the North. To break an empire's walls, I must upgrade my capacity."
Eun Jo's eyes flashed with a deep, analytical respect. "A logical gamble. If you master the draw-weight, your range will double every other archer in the capital."
"We have two hours before the evening lockout," Laohu announced, a sharp grin breaking across his face as he tapped his double-headed blade. "Let's march to the training ridge. Tomorrow the official strategy classes begin, and I intend to tire myself out completely before the ministers get a chance to lecture us."
I smiled, leading my unit out into the light. "To the range."