Ronan settled low near the barrier's edge, watching the boundary shimmer faintly against the treeline. His mana had stabilized somewhat, though not fully, his core still ached from activating Stealth for too long. He could push harder now if forced, but not recklessly. Not yet.

Five eliminations. One point claimed.

A few eliminations and one point wouldn't do him much if he got eliminated now. Survival to the end mattered more than total points. A student with twenty eliminations meant nothing if they got knocked out immediately after. He doubted the Academy would make it so straightforward.

The real problem was that most remaining contestants were already moving in groups. Two, three, sometimes four students clustered together, coordinating their approach to the next objective or forming temporary alliances against anyone nearby. A lone target read as easy prey regardless of skill – worse, if any group identified him specifically as Ronan Ashbourne rather than just an anonymous freshman, the incentive to jump him increased. He was Ronan Ashbourne after all.

So, his solution was simple.

Find Aura.

Ronan had no shame admitting that.

He briefly considered whether Freya would help instead, and dismissed it almost immediately. She'd made clear she wanted nothing to do with him longer than necessary, and pairing up would cost her socially and strategically for no benefit to her.

Aura was different.

He recalled what he knew of her from the novel – her deep, almost self-destructive loyalty to Luca, how she repeatedly risked her life for him even when her feelings were never returned, staying loyal regardless.

Ronan likely didn't inspire that same instinctive devotion yet – his personality was colder, less immediately likable than Luca's ever was – but over the months they'd spent together, her loyalty toward him had been building anyway, slower but real.

Her affection stat had climbed high, same with her loyalty stat. Even her trust stat was beginning to approach it. Aura didn't care about her public image either. He didn't need to manufacture a reason for her to help him. She'd come, as long as he gave her a half decent reason.

On its surface, his message to Freya was a petty joke, but it was also a coded signal.

Before the event had begun, Ronan told Aura specifically not to come looking for him, because at the time he believed this battle royale would follow the same format as the one in the novel – a format where her involvement would have been unnecessary or even risky.

But the format changed, the same way too many other details have changed since Grace and himself entered the picture, and his old plan no longer fit the new reality.

He needed Aura beside him for this version of the event, not absent from it. The message, if Freya actually delivered it, would tell Aura the opposite of his original instruction without saying so directly – if she heard it, she'd understand something is different, and that he wants her to find him now, despite what he said before.

He glanced around. Aura was nowhere in sight yet. There was no way to know if Freya's crossed paths with her, or if the message has even been delivered.

Ronan settled into a lower crouch near the barrier's edge, patient, watching the tree line, and waited.

Ronan moved along the perimeter.

He kept the barrier in sight through the trees, its faint shimmer pulsing at the edge of his vision, but he no longer hugged it as tightly as before. Staying too close risked being caught when it shifted inward. Moving too far toward the center risked running into the stronger students.

His mana had recovered somewhat, but not enough. Stealth had already drained more than he liked. He could fight if forced, but not wastefully.

Then he saw it.

A violet thorn embedded in the bark of a tree.

Ronan stopped.

It was small, half-hidden in the shadow of the trunk, but the color gave it away immediately. And he could tell the mana signature.

This was Aura's magic.

He examined the area around it.

Disturbed grass.

A scorched patch near the roots.

Broken twigs.

A thin line carved through the dirt where something had been dragged or knocked aside.

A fight happened here.

Brief, from the look of it. There was no sign of an eliminated student lingering nearby, no obvious blood, no scattered equipment. Ronan read the scene quickly and reached the obvious conclusion.

Aura passed through here.

And she won.

The thorn pointed deeper into the zone.

Ronan followed.

His pace sharpened, but he did not rush blindly. The boundary was still closing, and Aura's trail was not the only thing he had to account for.

Most remaining contestants had already started grouping.

Then something in the surroundings shifted.

At first, it was only the sound.

The insects went quiet.

The small movements from wild animals also disappeared.

Ronan slowed instinctively, putting his guard up.

He lowered himself behind a cluster of trees and looked ahead.

He saw the cause of the shift.

Four contestants.

A fifth student was backed against a fallen log, already losing badly.

His barrier flickered, one arm held close to his side, his stance broken. He tried to retreat, but one of the four shifted with him, cutting off the path before he could take it.

Ronan watched instead of moving.

The group was coordinated.

One pressured from the front. One circled wide, blocking escape. One stayed slightly behind, eyes moving across the trees rather than the target, watching for interference. The fourth stood near the center of the formation, not attacking much, but the others kept adjusting around him.

He was their leader.

Black hair. Calm face.

Ronan did not recognize him.

That was the first problem.

He had already catalogued the obvious dangerous freshmen. Luca, Iris, Grace, Irene, Aura, Freya, Kazuma, and the other names tied to rankings or rumors. This boy was not one of them, yet the formation bent around him like his judgment was accepted.

The losing student made one last attempt to break through.

The black-haired boy lifted two fingers.

The front attacker changed angle immediately. The flanker closed the opening a heartbeat later. A spell struck the isolated student from the side, and he collapsed to one knee.

This was too efficient for a temporary alliance formed less than two hours into the event.

Then a loose stone shifted under Ronan's foot.

The sound was small.

The black-haired boy turned.

Not fully. Just enough.

For half a second, everything stilled.

Ronan did not move.

His breathing slowed.

The leader's gaze landed near his hiding place, not directly on him, but close enough that Ronan understood.

He had either been noticed or almost noticed.

The retrieval ward activated around the defeated student, and an instructor came and pulled him out of the battlefield.

The three students smiled happily and started silently celebrating.

The black-haired boy did not.

He kept looking toward the trees.

Ronan ran the scenarios in his head.

Fighting was wrong. Four coordinated opponents against his current mana reserves was not just risky, but completely losing. No clever Flame Mirage would save him there.

Running was also wrong. The boundary would contract soon, and Aura's trace led directly through the ground they were standing on. Retreating meant losing the trail and wasting time he did not have.

No clean exit existed.

The group began moving deeper into the zone.

Ronan waited until they passed.

Five seconds.

Ten.

Then he followed.