The return to Lorri's Arch was less a triumphant march and more a staggered, shell shocked limp. The Academy's gleaming white spires and manicured green lawns looked like a painting of a different, impossibly gentle world. First years streamed back through the main gate in states of disrepair that ranged from mildly scuffed to "dragged through a volcano backwards." Kael's group fell firmly into the latter category.
They were a spectacle. Their gear was scorched, slashed, and stained with things best not identified. Justin's glorious armor was a dented, soot-blackened ruin. Dominic's reinforced greaves were still smoking slightly. Ellora's spirit pouch hung limply, its owner leaning heavily on Justin. Kael himself moved with the careful stiffness of someone held together by willpower and Ling Heather paste. They carried, however, a bulging, heavily warded loot sack that hummed with potent energy. It drew every eye.
The central courtyard was packed. Headmaster Morn stood on the dais, his expression unreadable. Commander Brys stood beside him like a carved monument to disapproval, his scar taut as he surveyed the damaged goods of his first year class.
"The Field Test is concluded," Headmaster Morn's voice echoed, magically calm. "You have faced the Gloomwilds. Some of you have faced more." His gaze swept over the courtyard, pausing on clusters of whispering students gossip about Corvin's humiliation and Theron's disgrace was already spreading like wildfire. It lingered a moment longer on Kael's battered group. "You have learned the primary lesson, the world beyond these walls is not fair. It is not kind. It simply is your task is to become strong enough, and clever enough, to ensure that you are the one who endures. Dismissed to the infirmary. Evaluations and credit allocations will follow."
The crowd began to disperse, a buzz of exhausted conversation rising. Kael's group turned to shuffle toward the healing wards, the weight of the cores in their sack the only thing keeping them upright.
"Not so fast, Team Seven-B."
Commander Brys's voice stopped them like a wall of stone. He strode down from the dais, his boots ringing on the flagstones. Students parted before him like wheat before a scythe. He stopped in front of them, his steel grey eyes doing a slow, meticulous inventory of their injuries, their ruined gear, the suspiciously potent sack.
He said nothing for a long moment. Then, a single grunt. It wasn't praise. It wasn't condemnation. It was the sound of a master mason inspecting a wall that had, against all odds, held.
"Infirmary. Then my office. You have a… debrief." He turned to leave, then paused, glancing back. "The Alpha core. Don't flash it around. Stupid to make yourself a target after surviving." He walked away, leaving them stunned.
"Did he just… give us advice?" Justin whispered, incredulous.
"I think he called us stupid in a complimentary way," Camila mused. "It's progress!"
They were halfway to the infirmary wing, dreaming of clean beds and unguented burns, when a new presence blocked their path. Not a hostile one. A large one.
He was a young man, probably nineteen, built with the same foundational architecture as Commander Brys, broad shoulders, a chest like a barrel, powerful limbs that spoke of relentless training. But where Brys was carved granite, this guy was like a friendly, sun warmed boulder. He wore the trim uniform of a senior student, but with an easy, unbuttoned looseness at the collar. His hair was a tousled mess of sandy brown, and his face was split by a grin so genuinely warm it seemed to push back the academy's chill.
"Whoa there, road walkers," he said, his voice a deep, cheerful rumble. "You lot look like you lost a argument with a mountain and then decided to marry it. Infirmary's that way, but you might want a guide before you face the healers, Sister Maren's in a mood, says too many of you used cheap poultices and she's got to 'reverse the alchemical idiocy.' Her words, not mine!"
He fell into step beside them as if he'd always been part of their procession. "Name's Levi. Levi Arkman Clint. Third year. Brys shoved a roster at me and said 'these ones are your problem now.' Pointed at your names. Said you'd either be the academy's next pride or its biggest headache, and it was my job to steer you toward the former." He laughed, a sound that was pure, unfiltered goodwill. "Based on the smell of cooked lizard and triumph coming off you, I'm leaning toward headache. I like headaches. They're interesting."
He was effortlessly charismatic, his energy so open it disarmed their immediate suspicion. This was no predatory noble. This was… what Justin might become in two years, if you sanded off the noble stiffness and injected pure, joyful confidence.
"Senior guide?" Lisa asked, ever analytical, though she was too tired to summon her usual frost.
"Fancy term for 'designated older brother who makes sure you don't die to something dumb,'" Levi winked. "Also, I'm told I give good advice. And better jokes. You look like you could use both."
They reached the infirmary. True to Levi's warning, Sister Maren, a stern woman with fists like Netherite and a heart she hid very well, clicked her tongue at their state. "Burns, lacerations, mana depletion, minor soul fatigue, and what is this… is this quicksand residue? In my clean wards!" She began herding them toward cots with the menace of a sheepdog.
Levi leaned against the doorframe, still grinning. "I'll be right outside when she's done peeling the forest off you. We've got things to discuss. Like how exactly a bunch of first years came back smelling of Rank 2 Alpha." His eyes, a warm hazel, met Kael's. There was sharp intelligence there, hidden under the mirth. "And more importantly, how to make sure the wrong people don't come asking about it."
An hour later, patched, poulticed, and wearing clean (if standard issue) tunics, they found Levi waiting in a small, sunny training courtyard off the main yard. He was casually practicing forms with a practice great sword that looked like a toy in his hands, its movements creating gentle, powerful gusts of wind.
"Ah, the walking wounded!" he said, sheathing the blade on his back with a fluid motion. "Feel human again?"
"Mostly," Kael said. The rest of his team lingered behind him, studying their new… guardian.
"Good. First lesson from your new senior guide: Victory isn't the hard part. After the victory is." Levi's tone lost none of its warmth, but the subject grew serious. "You made a lot of noise. You humiliated two noble scions. You bagged trophies that would make a Second year team jealous. That puts a target on your back bigger than the one the Gloomwilds painted." He walked over to a low stone bench and sat, gesturing for them to join. "So, we're going to do two things. One, we're going to make you less of an appealing target. That means controlled power, disciplined growth, and a reputation for being more useful alive than annoying dead."
"And the second?" Dominic asked, his practical mind engaged.
Levi's grin returned. "Second, we're going to make sure that if someone is dumb enough to target you, they deeply, deeply regret it. Starting with the basics you clearly skipped in your mad dash to fight dragons."
"They weren't dragons" Justin and Kael started automatically.
"___"
Levi held up a hand, laughing. "See? Already a unified front. I love it. But your footwork during that quicksand maneuver, Vale? Atrocious. You anchored like you were rooting a mountain, which is great, but you left your left flank so open I could've tickled you to death from fifty paces. And Osborn." He turned his cheerful gaze on Kael. "Whatever you did at the end there? The… glowy, scary thing? Never do that again until you can do it without passing out for a week. Brilliant desperation is still desperation. We're going to turn that into reliable power."
For the next hour, Levi put them through gentle but insightful drills. He corrected Sophia's aggressive stance, showing her how to channel her lightning through her core for more efficient bursts. He had Daniel practice moving from shadow to light in a seamless flow, removing the tell tale "pop" of his disappearances. He demonstrated to Justin how a defensive parry could be turned into a crushing counter blow without breaking form.
His teaching style was a revelation. He was endlessly patient, his critiques delivered with such good natured humor that they landed without sting. "No, no, Miss Valeric think of the spatial fold like folding a delicate pastry, not wadding up a sock! You're giving me flaky apple turnover, I need a perfect soufflé!"
He saved a special, quieter moment for Dominic. As the others practiced, he pulled the miner's son aside. "I read your file. Miner's family. Earth and Reinforcement. You fight like it, solid, no nonsense." He leaned in. "Brys likes you. He won't say it. But he sees a younger version of himself. All grit, no glitter. That's high praise. Don't let the nobles here sand that edge off you. Just… maybe learn to dodge before the fireball hits, yeah?"
Dominic, rarely one for easy conversation, just nodded, a flicker of respect in his eyes.
As the session wound down, Levi clapped his hands. "Alright! Enough for day one. You're exhausted. Go eat, Sleep, Dream of less fiery reptiles. I'll be around. My door's always open and remember," he said, his jovial tone softening into something solid and true, "you're not just first years anymore. You're my headache. And I take care of my headaches."
As they walked back to the dorms, the looming shadow of the field test felt a little smaller. The memory of fire and fear was still there, but overlaid now with the sound of a deep, easy laugh and the promise of a steady, powerful presence at their backs.
Lisa, walking slightly behind, watched Kael talk with Justin and Dominic about Levi's training tips. Her analytical mind, which had been fixated on mana vectors and threat assessments, was quietly recalibrating. This new variable Levi wasn't just a protector. He was a bridge. And she found herself watching Kael navigate that bridge, a strange, unfamiliar warmth cutting through her usual calculated chill.
The game had changed. They were no longer just survivors. They had a mentor. And for the first time since arriving at Lorri's Arch, the academy felt like it might just contain a place they could call home.