Chapter 10: The Harvest and the Academy

Sizzle.

The edges of the massive hole in the warehouse wall were still glowing red-hot. The four mutated hounds were completely gone, reduced to ash by the sheer, overwhelming power of Estella’s starlight.

Draven slowly lowered his hand. He turned to look at the girl standing beside him.

Estella was staring at her own glowing palms.

Her chest was heaving. But there was no pain.

There was only a bright, genuine smile breaking across her face.

She looked up at Draven as her eyes widened with a mix of shock and pure joy.

"I did it," she breathed. "I actually did it."

Draven walked over to her. He looked at her with a soft, genuine expression.

He reached out and gently placed his hand on top of her head.

"You did incredible," Draven said softly. "That was perfect, Estella."

Estella froze. The feeling of his large, warm hand on her head made her heart skip a beat. A deep, rosy flush spread across her pale cheeks.

She looked down at her boots, unable to handle the intense, praising look in his eyes.

"R-really?" she stammered. "I was so scared I would miss."

"You did not miss," Draven chuckled quietly. He let his hand drop to her shoulder.

"But do you know why your magic is so incredibly strong? Why you are already Level 15 when you have never fought before?"

Estella shook her head, looking up at him curiously.

"The Church," Draven explained with his voice turning gentle.

"They were forcing raw mana and monster cores into your body for months. They were treating you like a battery and were stretching your limits so you could hold all that power. It was torture, but they accidentally gave you a massive gift."

Estella processed his words.

The nightmare in the basement... it was not just useless suffering. It had a purpose, and now, that purpose belonged to her.

"You are free. You are strong. All the pain you suffered provided you with immense power. Power that should be used responsibly."

"They made me strong," she whispered.

"Exactly," Draven smiled. "And now, you get to use their own power to live however you want."

He stepped away briefly to check the ash piles.

He pulled out a combat knife and quickly extracted a few glowing monster cores from the remains, sparing Estella from the messy, grimy work.

He tossed the cores into his System Inventory.

"Mission accomplished," Draven said. "Let’s go home."

Rumble.

The late-night mag-lev train was completely empty. It glided smoothly over the tracks as it carried them back toward the bright lights of the Inner Ring.

Estella sat next to Draven on the cushioned seats. Now that the adrenaline of her first battle had completely faded, a wave of intense exhaustion hit her. Her eyelids felt incredibly heavy.

She tried to stay awake, but the gentle swaying of the train was too much. Her head drooped. Slowly, softly, it came to rest against Draven’s shoulder.

Draven stiffened slightly. He was a soldier. He was not used to people leaning on him for comfort. He looked down at the girl resting against his arm.

’She looks so peaceful.’

The terrified, broken prisoner he had found in the dungeon was gone. In her place was a beautiful, exhausted girl who trusted him entirely.

Draven did not push her away. Instead, he carefully unclasped his heavy tactical cloak and draped it over her shoulders to keep her warm.

’She smells like vanilla,’ Draven thought.

A strange, unfamiliar tightness bloomed in his chest.

Estella shifted in her sleep. She unconsciously grabbed the fabric of his shirt and nuzzled closer to his neck, seeking his warmth.

"Sigh"

Draven let out a quiet sigh, resting his head back against the window. He watched the neon lights of the Bastion blur past.

"Draven... Stay with me..."

For the first time since he woke up in this strange world, he felt like he had a real reason to fight. Not just a System Directive. He had someone to protect.

"Don’t worry! I am here." he said as he patted her head.

---

Two weeks passed in a blur of quiet, domestic routines and intense training.

They lived in a comfortable motel near the commercial district.

In the mornings, Draven would cook breakfast for them.

Estella would sit at the small table, watching him move around the kitchen with a goofy, lovestruck smile on her face.

Every time he handed her a plate or praised her progress, her heart fluttered wildly.

’Should I try cooking for him sometime? It would be a nice surprise.’

During the days, they took low-level, hidden quests.

Draven taught her how to control her massive mana output so she could fire small, precise beams of starlight instead of vaporizing entire city blocks.

"Keep your attention on the flow of mana. Control the output properly."

Meanwhile, Draven’s own power grew silently. His passive mana skill ran every single minute of the day.

His internal energy reserves had swelled into a massive, deep ocean. He was no longer a glass cannon. He was a fully loaded armory.

’This power will be enough to surpass the current Hero. But I cannot underestimate him. The world revolves around him. Fate itself protects him. I need to steal the opportunities that were mentioned in the Novel before he gets to them.’

Then, the morning of the Entrance Exam finally arrived.

Chatter. Flash.

The front gates of the Hunter Academy of Korea were chaotic.

Thousands of applicants were gathered in the massive courtyard. News vans were parked everywhere, and camera flashes lit up the morning air.

Draven and Estella stood near the back of the crowd. Estella looked stunning in a tailored Academy uniform, her white hair tied back neatly.

Draven stood beside her, his hands in his pockets, looking sharp and completely unfazed by the noise.

Estella reached out and gently linked her pinky finger with his. Draven glanced down, smiled faintly, and let her hold it.

"It’s quite crowded, isn’t it? I’m a little nervous." said Estella.

Draven smirked, "If you are nervous, then half of these participants should just give up. You are stronger than you were before. Your control has also improved. Have some confidence in yourself."

He said and patted her head.

"Hey, I did my hair in the morning. Don’t mess it up!"

"Look over there," a student whispered loudly nearby. "It is him! The Golden Boy!"

Draven looked up.

Standing in the center of the courtyard, surrounded by reporters and fawning noble girls, was Neville Hennesy.

The "Hero" of the novel had perfect blonde hair and a blindingly white smile.

"A Hunter’s true strength is not in their sword," Neville was saying to a reporter, putting a hand over his heart dramatically.

"It is in their mercy. We must always strive to understand our enemies, to offer them a second chance. Only love and forgiveness can truly heal this broken world."

Draven felt his stomach turn.

’You naive, arrogant idiot,’ Draven thought, his eyes narrowing into cold slits.

’Your forgiveness is going to get everyone killed.’

BZZZT!

A massive intercom crackled to life, echoing across the entire courtyard and cutting off Neville’s speech.

"ATTENTION ALL APPLICANTS," a stern voice announced.

"THE PHYSICAL COMBAT ASSESSMENTS WILL NOW BEGIN. PROCEED IMMEDIATELY TO THE ARENA GROUNDS. FAILURE TO ARRIVE IN FIVE MINUTES WILL RESULT IN IMMEDIATE DISQUALIFICATION."

The crowd surged forward. The real test had finally begun. Draven tightened his grip on Estella’s hand.

"Stay close," Draven said, a predatory smirk touching his lips.

"Let’s go show these kids what real power looks like."