Chapter 428: The Aftermath of Fire and Fear

The clearing was heavy with the scent of blood, sweat, and cold air, and the echoes of battle still hung faintly in the frost-bitten silence. Gregory moved briskly among the fallen trainees, his hands steady and precise despite the exhaustion that weighed down his own limbs. Beside him, Ethan, Jeffrey, and Darek worked in tandem, checking pulses, adjusting bandages, and offering whispered words of reassurance.

None of the trainees could stand upright. Their breaths came in ragged gasps, hearts pounding, and muscles shaking from both fear and adrenaline. Dren’s chest rose and fell violently as he tried to calm himself, sweat dampening the front of his tunic despite the cold. Ethan chuckled quietly at the sight, kneeling beside him and resting a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"You did good, Dren," Ethan said, voice light, almost teasing.

Dren swallowed hard, managing a weak, half-smile. "I only did good because of that pep talk you gave us before we got here. If not... I think I would have pissed my pants," he admitted, his voice tinged with exhaustion and relief.

Ethan laughed, shaking his head. "Even at that, you did good. You didn’t show that this was your first real battle. That takes guts."

Dren nodded, letting a small sense of pride seep through the tension in his shoulders. Around them, the other trainees were similarly struggling. Helios was crouched beside Uther, guiding his breathing, whispering softly to keep him grounded. Uther couldn’t even hold his bow; his hands trembled violently, betraying the fear and adrenaline still coursing through him. Helios’ voice was steady, calm, and unyielding, coaxing him back to focus on one controlled breath at a time.

Micah, unlike the others, remained unusually composed. He knelt beside Nia, who had her eyes closed, trying to steady her racing heart. Darek sat across from her, a wide grin teasing the tension from her shoulders. "You did good," he told her, voice low but filled with warmth.

Nia opened one eye and let a small, exhausted smile curve across her face. "I almost gave it away," she admitted softly, "that I wasn’t used to situations like this."

Darek chuckled, pushing his dreads out of his face. "You hid it well. You too, Micah—you all did well. Better than most first-timers."

There was a brief pause, then Darek tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "Why isn’t Laia here?" he asked.

Nia’s lips quirked in a small, tired smile. "Laia is making sure Holly doesn’t escape."

Darek nodded, then paused. "What?" he asked in shock.

Micah and Nia let out a breathless chuckle. "Long story," they said at the same time.

Darek nodded. "I’ll hold you guys to that... anyways, thanks for coming."

Nia’s eyes opened fully, steady now. "We only came because of Sophia."

Darek’s frown deepened slightly. He glanced at Micah, who pointed toward the clearing where Sophia was catching her breath. "Sophia?" he echoed. "The same Sophia my brother Victor can’t stop talking about? The one who... released the chickens before the Festival of the Fallen?"

Nia laughed, a soft, musical sound despite the lingering tension around them. "That’s her. That’s Sophia."

Darek’s gaze followed Micah’s gesture, finally finding Sophia. He stood abruptly, brushing the snow from his clothes. "I’ve never had a conversation with her, but Victor likes her a lot."

Nia laughed. "Almost everyone who has had the pleasure of being with her likes her."

"And she’s a badass too," Micah said wistfully.

Nia made a sound in agreement. "It was almost like I was watching Brynhild fight. I never even thought she had gotten that good."

"Me too."

"Now... that’s a scene I’d love to see," Darek said with a dreamy sigh. "Sophia and Brynhild sparring."

"You are not the only one," Nia said with a sigh.

Meanwhile, Gregory had knelt beside Joren, running his palms in soft, circular motions over the boy’s shaking arms. Joren hissed in pain but kept his teeth clenched. "It’s okay," Gregory murmured gently. "You’ll be back to normal in no time." He rubbed Joren’s head fondly, squeezing his shoulders. "You were good out there, Joren boy."

Joren’s lips curved in a tired, proud smile. "We fought a tidebreaker for our test. That’s why I was able to take them down. But... honestly, I was scared. The Skylurs and the Trihydra... I almost slipped, but I managed to get back in shape."

Gregory chuckled softly. "That’s a good warrior. A brave one." He tilted his head thoughtfully. "But tell me—when you said you fought tidebreakers during your test... what exactly did you mean by that?"

Joren exhaled, fatigue clear in his voice. "It’s a long story, sir," he admitted, though there was a flicker of pride in his eyes. "One I’ll tell when I’m not afraid I’ll pass out mid-sentence."

Nearby, Jeffrey knelt beside Bianca, steadying her and helping her regulate her breathing. Each trainee was fragile in the aftermath of battle, their fear only now giving way to exhaustion and relief.

Ronan, on the other side of the clearing, had taken a small group into his care. The young man, clearly wounded, tried to stay upright, while a small girl clung to his sleeve, her face streaked with dirt and tears.

For a long moment, the clearing was silent except for the sound of breathing, the rustle of snow under boots, and the quiet groans of the trainees regaining their strength. Each person, small or large, injured or exhausted, was accounted for—each survivor a testament to the chaos that had just unfolded.

Ronan’s gaze softened slightly at Jarek and Maya. "You’ll need to tell me everything about your group," he said quietly but firmly. "We need to know who you are, where you came from, and why you’re here."

Jarek swallowed again, his hands trembling slightly. "We... we’re rogues from the black market," he said. "We came this way to find refuge... in the pack in Nirvana."

Ronan stared at Jarek in shock. Rogues from the black market? He could not believe his ears.

"Wait..." he frowned in disbelief. "From the black market? What are you guys even doing here?" he asked them.