Chapter 108

Yuna slowly turned her head, her glare sharp enough to slice through steel, aimed squarely at the group of artifact refiners.

One of the boys—tall, bespectacled, and now visibly panicking—awkwardly adjusted his glasses and looked everywhere but at Yuna. In a desperate bid for protection, he tried to edge behind one of his classmates.

Unfortunately, loyalty was not on the menu. His supposed "shield" casually stepped aside, giving him a wide berth and exposing him fully to Yuna's growing wrath.

"Cough… Yuna… hehe… cough." The bespectacled boy gave a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his head. "Look, technically, the treasure-seeking artifact did lead us to treasure! And you agreed to use it!"

Yuna's eyes narrowed. Her scoff was cold and dry.

"I said to use an artifact that locates low-tier treasure. Low. Tier. Not vault us straight to the top floor in an instant! Care to explain how that even happened?"

"Well… ah, you see…" he coughed again, voice growing smaller with each word. "I'm still learning artifact forging… and um… the runes expert and I were experimenting with a few new configurations… so the artifact's targeting mechanism might've gotten… a bit unpredictable…"

"Unpredictable?" Yuna echoed darkly "Why didn't you say so from the start?"

"…We can't control what kind of artifact it detects yet," he mumbled.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" she asked with a dangerously sweet smile.

The boy waved his hands frantically. "No no! I didn't say anything!"

Yuna closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and exhaled even deeper—trying, just barely, to keep her cool.

They'd been transported from the first floor straight to the fifth—the topmost level—by some mysterious domain mechanism that vanished immediately after. The kicker? Once you moved up a floor in domain, you couldn't go back down. There was no going back. No second chances.

That broken treasure seeking artifact had led them straight to a hidden mechanism. How amazing. How wonderful. Cue the sarcasm.

And now, the path forward, the exit on this floor lay directly beyond the ancient artifact: the Shattered Crown of King Vaelthar. Worse still, the entire fifth floor was buried in the cursed bog of Duskrend—a miasmic swamp crawling with deadly creatures and unpredictable magic.

Yuna stared at the murky, creature-infested expanse ahead and sighed in helpless frustration.

Why did this kind of crap always happen to her? Wasn't this kind of situation reserved for protagonists with cheat skills, hidden bloodlines, and plot armor thicker than a fortress wall?

She had none of that. No shining perseverance. No burning resolve. Just common sense and a short temper.

Still, she gathered herself and raised her voice, "Alright, listen up! We'll beeline for the exit behind the artifact"

She checked the timer on the faint mana glow around her wrist. "The instructors will pull us out in about forty five..no… thirty minutes from now if we are willing. So until then, hold your ground and stay together. We're moving. Now."

Even if they can't reach the exit in thirty minutes, there still is a guarantor that they will be pulled out, so, until then, they need to hold their grounds.

The place near the exit has less monster as if a barrier etch beside it. They need to be near it.

Ahead, the cursed fog writhed, and monstrous shapes crept closer. Staying in place was a death sentence. The only way out was forward.

Their movement is greatly restricted in this narrow space. If those monsters swarmed their way in here, it will spell disaster for them.

So forward they would go.

"Man… fuck!"

'Screw this domain. Screw whoever designed it. May the creator stub his pinky toe, and just when it's about to heal, may he bash it again. And again. And again'.

Yuna had picked up that kind of oddly specific curse from the internet. It was petty, creative, and deeply satisfying.

Complain as she might, Yuna was no stranger to disasters befalling her. One might assume she'd have grown numb to it by now—but no. Much like those moments when we solemnly swear, "I won't do it again" or "I'll be more careful next time", only to backslide once Time dulls the edge of our resolve, Yuna never quite adjusted.

Every time chaos found her—and it always did—she didn't toughen up or become wiser. No, she simply got better at cursing the universe with more creativity and lamenting her fate with increasing flair.

…..

"Be careful!"

One student quickly pulled his classmate back just as he was about to step into a patch of sinking mud that rippled ominously. They didn't have time to relax—another wave of monsters was already incoming.

Despite not having an official commander—largely because Yuna had no idea how to lead—the Heart Class had learned to function with surprising synergy. They worked together fluidly, no one barking orders, yet somehow always in sync. Through months of shared trials and sparring sessions, the 22 students had come to understand each other like the backs of their hands.

After all, Yuna would frown deeply if any of them got too hurt during sparring sessions or beast hunts. To avoid her heated and 'worried' gaze, they constantly looked out for one another whenever they worked together.

This particular enemy wasn't strong individually—each monster was weaker than the academy's standard combat puppets—but they came in overwhelming numbers. Kill one, and two more appeared. Kill those two, and four took their place. They swarmed like ants, relentless and endless.

Yuna… As for Yuna, she had no real synergy with her classmates—.She kept mostly to herself, positioned at the center of the formation where her classmates had instinctively placed her for protection. From there, she focused solely on support.

Her role was simple but demanding: maintain barriers and react faster than anyone else. She didn't coordinate, she didn't give orders—she just acted. Whenever a classmate looked vulnerable or off-guard, a shimmering dome of water would suddenly bloom around them like an umbrella, absorbing a monster's strike just in time.

Yuna wanted to do more—wanted to cover the entire group in one large protective field—but her current control wasn't up to that level yet. Also, she has so little water available in her posession. If she thinned the barrier out to expand its range, it would weaken the integrity, even if she infused it with 'dominance'. It was simply too thin to hold under pressure.

So she compensated with vigilance.

Rather than stretching her power wide, she focused it in bursts. Controlled. Targeted. Her entire concentration was fixed on her surroundings. Her senses extended outward like feelers, constantly scanning for danger.

Her sharp senses have come into play in this battle.

And when danger came—a stray monster lunging at a distracted teammate—Yuna reacted instantly. A water dome would surge into place, just thick enough to deflect the attack, then dissolve the next second so she could focus elsewhere.

Her job was making sure no one died.

....

On the grand projection screens in the monitoring room, the teachers of Evigheden Academy watched with keen interest. Their eyes were glued to the Heart Class.

"This class…" one teacher murmured, her sweet smile so constant it teetered on the edge of unsettling. "They're stronger than the other card classes."

"You're in charge of this batch's Heart Class, aren't you, Veyne?" asked another, dressed casually and sounding amused.

Professor Veyne didn't shift his gaze from the screen. He gave a brief nod before answering coolly, "The class representative requested regular guidance. She made a training schedule for them."

He paused for a moment, then added, "Every week, she compiles a profile of each student's weaknesses and strengths. She brings them to me and asks how they can improve." Although now she let them write it out and asked them on their own. They still did it under her instruction.

The casually dressed teacher let out a low whistle. "So she did all that… and they gave her their information willingly? They trust her that much?"

Veyne only shrugged in response, offering no further comment.

Because, truthfully, whether they trusted Yuna or not wasn't something even the teachers could answer. The students in the Heart Class never said it aloud. But somehow, every single one of them followed along with her schedules, showed up to training, and quietly adapted to her analysis like it was second nature.

"This is the first time the Heart Class has ever been this obedient toward their representative," the casual teacher remarked, half in wonder.

And it was true.

This year's Heart Class was different.

It was also the first year in Evigheden's history where the Heart Class had this many students. Normally, the number barely reached double digits. In some years, they barely had five.

But this time? Twenty-three.

Statistically, there had never been enough students to make a meaningful comparison in the past. What could anyone conclude from three or four misfits? But now, with over twenty students working as a cohesive unit, something was clearly happening.

And it wasn't just the Heart Class.

The shift rippled outward. Even the other card classes—Spade, Diamond, and Club—were beginning to change. Slowly, subtly, they were being influenced by the Heart Class. In ways no one could pinpoint, they were adapting. Interacting more. Watching each other.

In previous years, each card class had remained distinct. Cold. Competitive. Isolated. They rarely mingled, never collaborated.

But this year?

This batch was different.

And it was beginning to show in every corner of the academy.