Chapter 29 : The Announcement

The following week passed in a flurry of anticipation and preparation. Soon enough, the day they had all been waiting for had arrived.

Prior to this, Itekan had carefully explained his plan to Itoyea and Binturu, enlisting their help. Both agreed, though Binturu acted disinterested at first. Still, after much coaxing — and a fair amount of persistence from both Itekan and Itoyea — he eventually relented.

That morning, after a grueling physical class — the only class for the day — all trainees were summoned to the wide open field, where they waited under the bright sky for further instructions.

Minutes later, three instructors appeared before them. Instructor Keel Kun was instantly recognizable, quickly surrounded by a gaggle of enthusiastic female students. He gave a dry chuckle, half-heartedly trying to free himself from the growing crowd, his eyes silently pleading for help — drawing a round of laughter from those nearby.

Just then, without warning, Kime materialized in front of the mingling instructors and trainee heroes.

"All trainee heroes," Kime began, his calm voice cutting through the air, "this will be your first dungeon clearing mission. It is a Yellow Zone — already cleared before — and suitable for trainees of your level."

He paused to let the words settle.

"Instructor Keel Kun and the rest of the instructors accompanying you will not be active during this mission. They will only intervene in cases of life or death. Everything else… will be left in your hands."

The weight of those words pressed down on the gathered trainees. For many, it was their first true test — no training wheels, no safety nets.

Kime went on to explain that, although the dungeon had been cleared once, it remained active and dangerous. Caution, he emphasized, would be critical.

Finally, the logistics: the 158 trainee heroes would be divided into three groups. Itekan's and Kutote's class would enter first. Two days later — regardless of whether the first class had finished — Itoyea and Binturu's class would follow. Two days after that, the final class would embark. The entire excursion was planned to span the week.

This was not what Itekan had hoped for. He had assumed all three classes would venture together; the strategy the three of them had painstakingly crafted overnight now lay in ruins. His eyes drifted to Kutote. Of all of them, Kutote seemed least enthusiastic about this trip. Though they wouldn't be far from the Academy, the fact that they'd be away still weighed heavily. The memory of his recent encounter with assassins still lingered raw and unhealed. Itekan wanted to speak to him, but Kutote still hadn't forgiven him — silence remained between them. This time, he'd have to go alone.

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They arrived at the dungeon shortly before noon. It lay nestled within the vast, ancient forest that flanked the Academy's left side. To the right of the campus stretched a ring of towering mountains, their jagged peaks clawing me the sky.

Three instructors had accompanied Itekan's class: Keel Kun, Instructor Jasmine, and Instructor Ro-El. Upon arrival at the dungeon's perimeter, the instructors silently positioned themselves far from the trainees, assuming the role of distant observers.

No one moved. No one dared make the first step. Fifty trainees stood frozen, murmuring and arguing amongst themselves about how to proceed — until someone stepped forward.

Aitken, watching from the side, had grown bored of the indecision. He hadn't expected anyone else to take the initiative so soon — but he raised an eyebrow as a dark-haired boy strode confidently to the front. He was broad-shouldered, clad in simple training garb, a sturdy pair of gauntlets fitted snugly over his hands. His movements were measured, seasoned — not like a novice, but like a veteran.

"Hey everyone, my name is Avery Ransthrol," the boy announced, his deep voice cutting clean through the air.

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Even Itekan — with his sparse knowledge of the outside world — recognized that name.

Enasto Ransthrol. One of the five living legends. A man who had built the world's largest mercenary organization, The Men from the Dead Man's Ship. His name carried the weight of blood and steel, of merciless conquest and unmatched reputation. His children, all seasoned warriors, were infamous in their own rights.

That meant this Avery was likely a grandson — or perhaps an illegitimate scion. But if he were lying… what kind of madman would dare forge such a name? The Dead Man's Ship was not known for mercy.

Aitken, however, simply smiled as he listened to Avery's declaration. That was all the confirmation he needed.

Things are about to get interesting, he thought, he glanced at Instructor Ro-El who nodded back and quietly slipping away into the trees.

"I've participated in numerous dungeon expeditions since I was a child," Avery continued, commanding their attention. "I have a fair idea of what we need to do."

In truth, this was what everyone wanted — a leader, someone to direct them, someone they could follow without hesitation.

Keel Kun watched Avery closely, a deep frown etched into his face. He didn't intervene, but his mind churned.

'That name is not one to be spoken so casually.'

Instructor Jasmine and Ro-El exchanged glances, clearly uneasy. Should Keel Kun have stepped in? His silence made them both wary. Even the trees, they knew, had ears.

"The most important thing is teamwork," Avery said, his arms outstretched as if addressing a congregation. "We should clear the dungeon together — as one unit."

A voice from the crowd called out, challenging him.

"And are we supposed to just accept you as our leader?"

"I believe I'm the most reasonable candidate for the task," Avery replied smoothly, his voice calm and disarming.

"No! I should be the leader!" someone else protested.

Soon, voices erupted across the field, each person pitching their claim to leadership.

Itekan barely paid attention. His mind was elsewhere, already wondering how Itoyea and Binturu would reconnect with him after their respective turns. Regardless, he knew he'd need to move soon — before long, his window would close.

Just as the argument reached its peak, someone suggested a neutral method: select a random person to decide who should lead. Fate, it seemed, chose Itekan. All eyes turned to him.

Oblivious at first, Itekan finally noticed the sea of faces awaiting his word. Without hesitation — and without much thought — he simply spoke his truth.

"I won't be teaming up," Itekan said flatly.

The field fell silent.

Spiritual Energy -- SE

Spritual Sea -- SS

Spiritual Signatures -- SST