Extra Pages: The Author's Odyssey-Chapter 409: After The Selection [2]

At the same time, in Lillian Ashbourne's office—

Sitting behind her desk, Lillian swiped her hand across the screen, bringing up footage from the inter-academy tryouts that had taken place earlier that day.

Although she had watched the entire event through the monitors in the arena, seeing it only once hadn't allowed for proper analysis. Now, alone in her office with the recordings at her fingertips, she could finally dissect every movement in detail.

Overall, she was satisfied.

Both teams representing her class had emerged victorious, and naturally, that was a relief. But satisfaction didn't mean contentment—not to Lillian. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

As her sharp eyes scanned through the footage, frame by frame, her expression began to tighten.

Two names surfaced in her mind, uninvited and unwelcome.

Evelyn and Emma.

She leaned back in her chair, lips pressed into a thin line.

They had both underperformed—significantly.

Evelyn, usually sharp and instinctive, had made a string of poor decisions—rushing in too quickly, overextending, failing to properly coordinate with her teammates. It was as though she had been fighting on impulse rather than calculation.

And Emma?

Emma had practically disappeared.

She had stayed too far in Adrian's shadow, offering little support, letting him carry the match from start to finish. There were key moments—obvious ones—where a timely assist from her could've ended things far more efficiently. But instead, she stood off to the side, passive and detached.

Lillian replayed the footage again, fingers tapping rhythmically against the desk.

"…Disappointing," she muttered.

The word lingered in the air like a curse.

Her eyes remained fixed on the screen—Adrian, fending off opponents one after another, while the rest of his team followed like background characters.

It wasn't that they lacked talent. That wasn't the issue. It was how they used it—or didn't.

Talent without execution was useless in a real battlefield.

She let out a quiet breath and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk.

Aside from Adrian, the entire team was underwhelming.

And that was unacceptable.

She folded her hands in front of her, her gaze narrowing on Emma's frozen image on the screen. Her expression was unreadable, but inside, she was quietly fuming.

Emma's hesitation… it wasn't just bad instinct. It was a lack of resolve.

And that was dangerous.

Lillian knew better than most that power alone didn't determine a cadet's worth. Many had the talent. Far fewer had the mindset. And right now, Emma was showing all the signs of someone who hadn't decided who she wanted to be on the battlefield.

As for Evelyn…

Lillian tapped to switch the feed. This time, it showed Evelyn's match. Her footwork was aggressive, her bow play was sharp—but she lacked discipline. She threw herself into engagements without thought for positioning, strategy, or her team's formation.

She's too emotional when it matters. Rushing. Flailing. Fighting as if it's personal.

Lillian paused the video, her reflection staring back at her faintly from the screen.

She didn't mind emotion—when properly harnessed, it was powerful—but Evelyn was still far from mastering that control.

Her index finger tapped against the desk. Once. Twice.

She would have to talk to them both.

Not to scold—but to correct.

Emma needed a wake-up call. A nudge—or perhaps a shove—toward stepping out of the shadows. Lillian wasn't going to let her hide behind Adrian forever. The girl had potential, but if she didn't take responsibility for her own growth now, it would be too late.

And Evelyn?

She doesn't need motivation. She needs clarity.

She needed to understand that talent, pride, and passion meant nothing if they weren't wielded with control.

Lillian stood from her chair and turned toward the wide windows overlooking the academy. Her long coat rustled softly as she moved, arms folded across her chest.

These were no longer just children.

They were future combatants, heirs to noble houses, potential guardians of the North—and if they were going to carry such weight, then she would ensure they were prepared for it, whether they liked her methods or not.

Her gaze sharpened.

"I'll summon them after tomorrow's lecture."

She spoke aloud—not because she needed to hear it, but because it made the decision final.

They would understand.

And if not—

They'd learn.

----

Nova Academy – Training Grounds

At the same time Lillian was reviewing team performances in her office...

Standing with her back straight and bow drawn, Evelyn's violet eyes remained locked on the targets five hundred meters away.

A row of large, black square panels stood at the far end of the training field, each marked with ten concentric rings—points ranging from one at the edges to ten in the center. The morning air was cold, but Evelyn didn't flinch. Her breath was calm. Steady.

With a faint squint, she focused on the target's core. A soft blue glow flickered around her fingertips as mana began to gather.

A translucent arrow of pure energy materialized against the bowstring, vibrating slightly with condensed power.

"…Huuu."

She inhaled deeply, centering herself.

Then, she loosed.

—Swoosh!

The arrow vanished from her fingers in a blur, leaving behind a thin, glowing trail of mana in the air as it sliced through the field with a piercing whistle.

—Bam!

A sharp impact echoed as the arrow struck dead center. The force drove the arrow deep into the target, compressing the material like it was made of soft rubber. The target bulged backward under the pressure, stretching unnaturally as the arrow burrowed further in.

—Plack!

Finally, the arrow lost momentum and dropped to the ground, clattering softly. The distorted target slowly returned to its original shape, the faint hum of mana still resonating in the air.

—Ding!

A gentle vibration on her wrist pulled her attention away.

She turned her arm slightly, glancing down at the digital readout on her training watch.

[Shot Power: 142 kg]

[Accuracy: 88%]

[Penetration Depth: 16 cm]

[Score: 8.5]

Evelyn stared at the numbers for a moment, her expression unreadable.

Then, her lips drew into a tight line.

…It dropped again.

Her shot power was down. Accuracy had slipped by three percent. Penetration—barely acceptable. Compared to last week, the decline was noticeable.

She closed her eyes briefly, biting the inside of her cheek.

Ever since the tryouts, her performance had been slipping.

And she knew why.

It wasn't her body. It wasn't even her technique. It was her head. The tryouts had shaken her more than she wanted to admit. Lillian hadn't said anything yet, but Evelyn knew her teacher well enough to know that silence wasn't a good sign.

I rushed in. I didn't trust the team. I fought like I was alone.

She drew in a shaky breath, then slowly exhaled.

That won't happen again.

She nocked another arrow.

There were still hours left before nightfall—and she had no intention of leaving until her numbers were back to where they belonged.

Or higher.