Chapter 200: An Odd Fellow

The morning after the friendly match, Noah discovered that winning had an unfortunate side effect.

Everyone wanted to talk about it.

He had barely entered the central courtyard when Eric appeared beside him, wearing the satisfied expression of someone who intended to remind the entire academy of his victory.

"Three people have already asked me about yesterday."

Noah continued walking. "And how many times have you told them the story?"

"Four."

"Impressive."

"I had to give one person the extended version."

Noah shook his head.

Squad Seven had earned a reputation among the freshmen, although Noah suspected Eric was personally responsible for spreading half of it. Students who had barely acknowledged them a week earlier now greeted them in the corridors.

It wasn’t unpleasant.

Just unfamiliar.

They were passing the noticeboards when a young man approached from the opposite direction.

He was dressed in Valhalla’s standard uniform, though his jacket was worn casually over one shoulder. His dark hair was neatly arranged, and a relaxed smile rested on his face.

His gaze settled on Noah.

"Blackwood, right?"

Noah stopped.

"That’s me."

The young man extended his hand.

"Elias Rumo. B-Rank."

Noah shook it.

"Elias."

"I’ve wanted to introduce myself for a while. You were in Hildgard during the Inter-Academy Tournament, weren’t you?"

The question caught Noah’s attention.

"Yeah."

"I thought so." Elias smiled. "I watched some of the tournament matches. Yours was an interesting performance."

Eric folded his arms.

"Interesting how?"

Elias glanced at him without losing his pleasant expression.

"Unusual, mostly. You don’t often see an F-Rank student involved in events like those."

The words were delivered casually, almost conversationally.

Still, Noah noticed the emphasis.

"Rankings don’t tell the whole story," Noah replied.

"Of course." Elias nodded immediately. "That’s what makes them interesting. They give us a starting point, not a complete picture."

His answer sounded reasonable.

Perhaps a little too polished.

Elias turned toward the rest of the group and greeted them in turn. He was particularly courteous to Laura, whose family name he clearly recognized, but he didn’t linger on it or make an unnecessary display of familiarity.

"Congratulations on yesterday’s match, by the way," he added. "Squad Seven seems to be improving."

"You watched?" Eric asked.

"Part of it. I had training nearby."

Elias smiled.

"Your final exchange was well coordinated."

Noah studied him.

The man spoke easily, without the nervousness some students displayed around Squad Seven. He didn’t seem intimidated by Noah, nor did he openly challenge him.

He simply observed.

"So, what squad are you in?" Noah asked.

"Not one of the freshman squads. I’m a B-Rank student, so my schedule is a little different." Elias adjusted the jacket over his shoulder. "Most of my training takes place with the intermediate combat groups."

Eric looked impressed despite himself.

"B-Rank already?"

"Hard work and a little luck."

"Mostly hard work, I hope."

"Naturally."

Elias laughed.

It was an easy laugh, the sort that made a conversation feel comfortable without demanding anything from the people involved.

After a few more minutes, he excused himself.

"Enjoy your morning. I’m already late for a lesson, and my instructor has very little patience for excuses."

He walked away with a casual wave.

Eric watched him disappear into the corridor.

"Seems like a decent guy."

"Seems like it," Noah replied.

Laura remained quiet.

Noah glanced at her. "Something wrong?"

"Not necessarily." She looked toward the corridor Elias had taken. "He was very interested in your rank."

"He wasn’t exactly subtle about it," Sophia said.

"Still, he was polite," Damien pointed out. "And he didn’t say anything particularly unreasonable."

Noah nodded.

That was true.

Yet something about the conversation lingered in his mind.

Not danger.

Not a threat.

Just the uncomfortable sensation of being evaluated by someone who hadn’t explained what he was looking for.

Elsewhere in the academy, Elias entered an empty classroom and closed the door behind him.

His smile faded.

He set his jacket on a chair and stared through the window toward the central courtyard.

Noah Blackwood.

The name was familiar from tournament records and student reports. An F-Rank, according to the academy’s available classification.

Yet Noah had survived Hildgard.

He had returned from the forest with Squad Seven.

And yesterday, he had demonstrated a level of adaptability that didn’t fit neatly with the rank attached to his name.

Elias rested his hands on the windowsill.

Either the records are wrong, or there’s something nobody has measured.

Neither possibility satisfied him.

He had no proof of anything, and he wasn’t foolish enough to mistake suspicion for certainty.

For now, Noah Blackwood was simply a question worth watching.

Elias picked up his jacket and restored the pleasant smile to his face.

There was no reason to rush.

Not when Valhalla offered so many opportunities to observe people without them realizing they were being observed.

He left the classroom and returned to his ordinary schedule.

To anyone who passed him in the corridor, Elias Rumo was just another capable student having a normal day.

And that was exactly how he preferred it.

Noah had decided that Elias Rumo was probably harmless.

Probably.

The problem was that Noah had learned the hard way that people rarely announced what they intended to do to him.

He tried not to dwell on the encounter as he made his way toward the academy’s western lecture hall. There were more important things to worry about, including an assignment Professor Astrid had given them and Eric’s increasingly ambitious plans to challenge Squad One to a rematch.

"We won yesterday," Noah reminded him.

"Exactly. We should capitalize on our momentum."

"That’s not how momentum works."

"It is when I’m in charge."

Sophia walked between them, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

"You’re not in charge."

Eric placed a hand against his chest. "Why does nobody respect my leadership?"

"Because nobody appointed you leader," Damien answered.

Luna laughed as they entered the lecture hall.

Today’s lesson concerned mana efficiency, a subject Noah had expected to find dull. Instead, the instructor spent most of the class demonstrating how experienced fighters could achieve better results without increasing their mana reserves.

The principle was simple.

A fighter who wasted less energy could remain effective longer.

Noah found himself paying close attention.

He remembered how quickly his body had weakened during the previous battles. Raw power hadn’t prevented exhaustion, and whatever existed inside him couldn’t make every physical limitation disappear.

If he wanted to improve, he needed more than strength.

He needed discipline.

When the lesson ended, Laura caught up with him outside.

"You’re thinking about training again."

Noah glanced at her. "Is it that obvious?"

"Unfortunately."

"I thought you liked hardworking people."

"I do. I also like people who remember to eat lunch."

Noah smiled. "I can manage both."

"Good. Prove it."

She continued toward the dining hall, leaving Noah with little choice but to follow.

The dining hall was crowded when they arrived.

Noah had barely collected his meal when a familiar voice greeted him.

"Blackwood."

Elias stood beside one of the tables, holding a tray.

"Mind if I join you?"

Eric looked at Noah with exaggerated suspicion.

"That depends. Are you planning to challenge us to a duel?"

Elias laughed. "Not today. I have a lesson afterward, and I’d rather not explain to an instructor why I arrived with a broken nose."

"You assume you’d lose," Eric replied.

"I assume you would make the experience unpleasant regardless of the outcome."

Eric considered that.

"Fair."

Elias took the empty seat opposite Noah.

The conversation began with ordinary subjects: classes, training schedules, and the differences between the freshman program and the intermediate combat groups.

Elias was easy to talk to. He listened without interrupting, asked sensible questions, and occasionally made observations that drew laughter from the table.

Eventually, he turned to Noah.

"How are you finding Valhalla so far?"

"It’s been good."

"Even after everything that happened in Hildgard?"

The question arrived naturally, almost buried beneath the conversation.

Noah set down his fork.

"Especially after Hildgard."

Elias tilted his head.

"That sounds like an interesting answer."

"It was a difficult experience. Coming back here makes ordinary things feel different."

For a moment, Elias appeared to consider that.

Then he nodded.

"I suppose it would."

He didn’t ask for details about the tournament or the forest. Instead, he turned to Damien and asked about the combat formations they had been studying.

The conversation moved on.

Noah relaxed slightly.

Perhaps he had been reading too much into their earlier meeting.

Not every curious student had an ulterior motive.

After lunch, Elias excused himself and headed toward his next lesson.

Eric watched him leave.

"Still think he’s harmless?"

Noah picked up his bag.

"I think we barely know him."

"That’s a suspicious answer."

"It’s an honest one."

Laura joined them near the exit.

"Then get to know him before deciding anything."

Noah nodded.

That seemed reasonable.

He had spent enough of his life fighting things he didn’t understand. He wasn’t going to start treating every unfamiliar person as an enemy.

For now, Elias Rumo was simply a student at Valhalla.

A capable one.

A curious one.

And someone Noah would keep an eye on, without making assumptions.

Outside, the afternoon bell rang.

Squad Seven headed toward their next class, their conversation drifting toward training and the upcoming week’s schedule.

Valhalla continued around them, busy and ordinary.

And Noah intended to enjoy every minute of it.