Vasilev closed her textbook and placed it on the desk.

"Before I dismiss you, there’s one more matter."

The students straightened. Vasilev’s tone had shifted.

"The Inter-Class Tournament is in two days."

The room erupted.

Murmurs. Whispers. Excited glances.

Vasilev raised her hand. Silence.

"The tournament is mandatory for all Combat Department students. Each department runs its own separate competition with its own format. Combat Department. Research Department. Support Department. You compete within your own department."

She wrote on the blackboard in large, precise letters:

INTER-CLASS TOURNAMENT — COMBAT DEPARTMENT

"Rewards for the top ten finishers. Substantial rewards. The kind that can change your academic career."

The students’ imaginations were already running wild.

A hand shot up. Fiona Blake. "Professor, what’s the tournament format? Single elimination? Round robin? Teams or individuals?"

Vasilev’s lips curved into a thin, cold smile. "The layout will be relayed on the day of the tournament."

More hands shot up. Questions overlapped.

"Is it ability-restricted—"

"Are weapons allowed—"

"What rank are the—"

Vasilev’s aura flared. Pressure crashed down on the room like a physical weight. Every student flinched. The questions died instantly.

"I said — the layout will be relayed on the day of the tournament." Her gray eyes swept the room like a searchlight. "What I will tell you is this: prepare everything. Every skill. Every spell. Every strategy. Hold nothing back."

She straightened her collar.

"You are Class B. You are the second-ranked class in the Combat Department. Last tournament, Class B produced exactly zero top-ten finishers." Her voice dropped. "Zero. The Combat Department Elite Track — Class A — swept the board. This year, I expect better."

Her eyes found Lucian. Then Bruno. Then Shū Yán.

"You three are my top seeds. Do not disappoint me."

She gathered her materials.

"Class dismissed."

Lucian left the classroom and walked across campus to the Combat Department’s Petric Elite Track building — Class A, where Clara was assigned. The rankings were posted on a holographic board in the main hallway.

║ COMBAT DEPARTMENT — CLASS A ║

║ (PETRIC ELITE TRACK) ║

║ UPDATED RANKINGS ║

║ 1. Arthur Chevalier — 14,200 AP ║

║ 2. Damon Mercer — 11,800 AP ║

║ 3. Clara Duncan — 10,600 AP ║

║ 4. ... ║

║ 5. ... ║

Third. Clara was ranked third in Class A — the Elite Track. Behind Arthur Chevalier, Rose’s older brother, and a name Lucian didn’t recognize. Damon Mercer.

He checked the Support Department rankings on the adjacent board.

║ SUPPORT DEPARTMENT — CLASS A ║

║ UPDATED RANKINGS ║

║ ║

║ 1. ... ║

║ 2. ... ║

║ ... ║

║ 8. Rose Chevalier — 4,200 AP ║

║ ... ║

Rose. Eighth in Support Class A. The Support Department only had forty students total, divided into two classes of twenty. Eighth wasn’t bad — especially for someone whose primary ability was purely defensive.

Lucian headed home.

The smell hit him before he opened the door.

Meat. Grilled meat. Seasoned with garlic and rosemary and something sweet. His vampire senses picked up every note of the fragrance — the charred edges, the melting fat, the caramelized marinade.

He opened the door. Rose stood at the kitchen stove, a spatula in one hand, flipping strips of beef on a grill pan. Lumina sat on the counter beside her, extending tiny vines to "taste" the meat juice splatters.

Lucian’s Blood Sense swept her body. The mana signature had changed.Compressed into a hard point in her lower dantian.

Early Core Realm.

"Congratulations," Lucian said.

Rose turned, her face flushed from the heat of the stove. "Oh! You’re back!" She smiled brightly. "And thanks. It’s all because of you, you know. The Spirit Tempering Pill, the Core Condensation Pill — I’d still be stuck at Peak Neophyte without them."

"You put in the work. I just provided the tools."

"Modest." Rose flipped another strip of beef. "Clara broke through too. About an hour ago. She went out to get wine and meat to celebrate."

Lucian’s eye twitched. "With whose credits?"

Rose’s smile widened. "Hers. She said she’d treat us."

Lucian relaxed. Then his phone buzzed. He pulled it out.

Ryan: Bro. WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME CLARA AND ROSE BROKE THROUGH?!

Ryan: I just saw Clara’s mana signature on the academy sensor network. EARLY CORE REALM. BOTH OF THEM.

Ryan: I had to find out from the RESEARCH DEPARTMENT notice board.

Ryan: I’m your BEST FRIEND. This is BETRAYAL.

Lucian pocketed his phone without responding.

The front door burst open. Clara walked in carrying three large bags — two filled with wine bottles, one packed with vacuum-sealed cuts of raw beef, pork, and lamb. She kicked the door shut behind her and dropped the bags on the kitchen counter with a heavy thud.

"Wine and meat, as promised," Clara announced. She spotted Lucian and walked straight to him. She grabbed the front of his uniform, pulled him down, and pecked him on the lips. "Missed you."

"You saw me this morning."

"I was unconscious this morning. That doesn’t count."

She began unpacking the wine — six bottles of a Bordeaux red that Lucian didn’t recognize but could tell was expensive based on the label’s mana-embedded calligraphy. Rose returned to the stove. Clara opened a bottle, poured herself a glass, and took a long sip.

"So," Lucian said, leaning against the counter. "Rankings are out."

"We know," Clara said, not looking up from her glass.

"You already know?"

"Of course we know." Clara gave him a look. "It’s on the class group chat."

Lucian stared at her. "What class group chat?"

Clara stared back. Then she looked at Rose. Rose looked at Clara. They both looked at Lucian with identical deadpan expressions.

"Lucian," Rose said slowly. "Every class has a group chat. On the academy communication app. For announcements, rankings, mission updates, study groups—"

"I haven’t joined any group chat."

The silence that followed was deafening.

"Of course you haven’t," Clara said, pinching the bridge of her nose. "How will you know when all you do is train? Train, cultivate, train some more. Do you even know what a social life is?"

"I have a social life."

"Name one friend besides Ryan."

"Bruno."

"The giant criminal you?"

"He’s a partner."

"THAT’S WHAT I MEAN!"

Lucian pulled out his phone. "Fine. Send me the link."

Clara took his phone, tapped furiously for thirty seconds, and handed it back. "Done. You’re now in the Class B group chat. Try to participate in human society occasionally."

Lucian glanced at the chat. 27 members. The most recent message was from Bruno: "WHO’S READY TO CRUSH CLASS A IN THE TOURNAMENT? 🔥🔥🔥"

He closed the app.