Almatik Massacre [ II ]

"Glade Ritrevon, Sara Fleurontide, Dias Melvontine, and Luke—stay behind for a moment."

Instructor Euric's voice rang through the classroom, calm yet authoritative, immediately halting any lingering chatter.

Students who had been making their way toward the exit slowed, some turning back with curiosity flashing in their eyes. Many stole glances at Glade, Sara, and Dias, their expressions filled with admiration and intrigue. These were prestigious names—heirs of noble houses with long-standing histories in warfare and strategy.

Yet, amidst the murmur of speculation, a different kind of reaction surfaced when they realized that Luke's name had been called as well.

"What is a commoner doing among them?" someone whispered.

"Maybe the Instructor called the wrong person." another muttered, though none dared to openly challenge Professor Euric's judgment.

That is, except for one bold student.

Stepping forward hesitantly, they cleared their throat and asked, "Instructor, have you made a mistake?"

Professor Euric's gaze remained unwavering as he repeated, his voice as firm as steel, "Glade Ritrevon, Sara Fleurontide, Dias Melvontine, and Luke."

Then, with an air of finality, he added, "Unless you are one of the four I named, I expect you to proceed to your next class."

Though his words were spoken in a level tone, there was a weight behind them—an unspoken authority that sent a chill through the lingering students.

The bold student who had spoken flinched, a nervous sweat forming on their brow. The others, sensing the shift in atmosphere, exchanged uneasy glances before silently shuffling out of the classroom, one by one, until the room was empty except for the four named students and Professor Euric himself.

Once the door closed behind the last student, Euric leaned back slightly against his desk, his sharp gaze sweeping over the four.

"I shall ask each of you the same question," he said, folding his hands together. "And I hope you will grant me an honest answer."

His voice carried a steady, measured cadence, like a judge deliberating on a verdict. Then, he turned to the first student.

"Mr. Ritrevon, what was your reasoning for determining that the Viscount's attacks were unnecessary?"

Glade answered without hesitation. "The Viscount not only attacked the Count's border settlements but continued to march inward, targeting central villages that held no immediate strategic value."

Professor Euric stroked his mustache thoughtfully.

"Hmm…" he mused, then shifted his gaze. "Do the rest of you agree with Mr. Ritrevon?"

"Yes," Sara and Dias answered in perfect unison.

But then, a different voice cut through the agreement.

"No."

A quiet pause followed, the air thickening as all eyes turned toward Luke.

Dias scoffed inwardly, "A commoner cannot possibly understand the tactics of true nobles."

Even Glade and Sara, who had remained composed until now, exchanged brief glances, their expressions subtly expectant—as if waiting for Professor Euric to correct Luke's supposed mistake.

Instead, the instructor's brows lifted slightly. "Hmm?" He studied Luke with newfound curiosity. "And why do you think so?"

Luke met his gaze without hesitation. "It wasn't an unnecessary action." His voice was steady. "It seemed forced."

Professor Euric tilted his head slightly, signaling for him to continue.

Luke did. "The Viscount moved deeper into enemy territory as though he were pressed against the wall. His attacks weren't reckless—they were desperate. It's as if his supply lines had thinned or… as if he was cornered."

Silence followed.

Professor Euric's eyes widened slightly, a rare flicker of surprise crossing his normally composed features.

"Interesting." His mustache twitched as if suppressing a smirk. Then, with a dismissive nod, he said, "You're all free to go."

The four students turned and made their way toward the exit, but before Luke stepped out, he felt a pair of sharp eyes lingering on him. He ignored it, walking forward without pause.

Once the door clicked shut behind them, Professor Euric let out a quiet chuckle. A small grin played at the corner of his lips as he reached for a sheet of paper from his desk.

It was Luke's assignment.

It was blank.

"A terrible outcome indeed," he murmured to himself, his fingers tapping against the page. "Yet… all of it was necessary."

His grin widened ever so slightly before he placed the paper down, his thoughts lingering on the student who had given an answer no one else there had considered.

Luke.