Chapter 79: Beast Anatomy

Chapter 79: Chapter 79: Beast Anatomy

Brilliant rays of mid-afternoon sunshine poured through the arched bay window of Room 401, illuminating dust motes dancing lazily in the quiet air.

"Wahhhhhh..."

Eric groaned, peeling his cheek off the plush down pillow and stretching his stiff limbs with a massive, jaw-cracking yawn. His sleep had been so deep, so completely uninterrupted by the conscious hum of mana, that his thoughts felt coated in warm, thick molasses.

He rubbed the crust from the corners of his eyes and glanced lazily toward the brass-framed runic chronometer glowing softly on the wall.

*13:45.*

Eric froze.

Every drop of color drained from his face in a fraction of a second.

"Shoot, shoot, shoot! I’m dead, I’m so dead!"

He launched himself out of the sheets like a discharged projectile. *Beast Anatomy & Structural Biology* in Research Building 5 was scheduled for precisely 14:00. He had fifteen minutes to cross the entire eastern quad, and right now he smelled like a stagnant bog after yesterday’s six-hour combat crucible under Major General Holt.

"A two-minute rinse, let’s go!"

Eric bolted into the washroom, threw the dial onto freezing water to shock his nervous system awake, scrubbed himself down like a lunatic, and threw on a fresh charcoal scholar uniform while hopping on one foot to yank up his trousers.

Breakfast and lunch were utterly out of the question, his stomach gave a hollow, violent groan of protest, but avoiding academic disciplinary demerits on his very first Friday took absolute priority.

He sprinted out the wrought-iron gates of Dormitory 17, threw himself onto a scooter, twisted the mana throttle straight to the redline, and tore down the western thoroughfares.

Reaching the wide marble plaza outside RB-5 with two minutes to spare, he skidded into an empty magnetic dock, sprinted up the grand steps, and caught sight of a figure in a tailored ivory professor’s coat reaching for the brass handle of Lecture hall 301.

Eric didn’t think. He dipped into a low sprint, slipping beneath the closing oak door right on the man’s heels.

"Eric! Over here!" a frantic, hushed whisper hissed from the middle tier.

Jenna was waving her arm with desperate urgency, pointing to an empty desk she had guarded with her leather satchel.

Eric scrambled up the tiered steps, slid into the mahogany seat, and collapsed against the high backrest, panting softly. "Thanks... Jenna, you are an absolute lifesaver."

"You look like you barely outran an enraged wyvern," Jenna giggled under her breath, covering her mouth with her sleeve.

Down on the podium, the instructor set down his leather portfolio and turned smoothly around.

He was remarkably young, perhaps twenty-seven or twenty-eight, certainly not a day past thirty, with neatly parted sandy hair and sharp, analytical hazel eyes framed by thin wireframe spectacles.

"Ahem."

The young scholar cleared his throat, his gaze drifting upward across the rows before settling squarely upon Eric, whose collar was still slightly askew from his sprint.

"Good afternoon, students. I am Professor Noah Jones. I will serve as your primary instructor for Beast Anatomy and Structural Biology. Before we commence our inaugural module, let me make one operational policy crystal clear: this is the first and absolute final time I will tolerate anyone sliding into my lecture hall after the designated time."

His gaze lingered on Eric for two pointed, icy seconds before he turned back to the lectern.

Eric offered a sheepish, apologetic dip of his head, sinking down slightly into his chair.

Still, the fleeting embarrassment vanished within moments. Combat arts demanded bruised knuckles and sweat, and runic carving required mechanical stillness, but Beast Anatomy? With the *Myriad Beast Encyclopedia* etched directly into his spiritual consciousness, Eric wasn’t just a student here, he was effectively an uncrowned monarch sitting among novices.

"Silence, please," Professor Jones commanded softly, tapping a rune on the lectern that projected a colossal, rotating three-dimensional hologram of the world map above the podium.

"Today, we establish our taxonomic baseline: the structural morphology between beast classifications, fauna, flora, avian, and elemental entities, alongside their geographical differentiation.

"A creature’s bone density, organ layout, and core resonance do not exist in an isolated vacuum. Every continent across our world harbors distinct atmospheric mana pressures, elemental currents, and microclimates, birthing entirely unique evolutionary paths. Your first mandate as researchers is to memorize these structural bases."

Professor Jones tapped a glowing terrestrial mass on the spinning projection.

"We begin with our home, the continent of Valoria, defined by dense temperate forests, jagged mountain ranges, and rich subterranean earth nodes.

"From there, our curriculum will traverse the scorching deserts and spirit-oasis networks of Sumeru, the ancient celestial river basins and sovereign peaks of Zhongyuan, the isolated archipelago of Hinomoto, the subterranean mineral crags of Ferronia, and the sky-island aerial ecosystems of Aetheris."

His voice rose with infectious academic passion, sweeping over the final, massive landmass sitting shrouded in deep violet clouds at the southern rim of the holographic globe.

"And finally... Primordia. The oldest, most perilous, and indisputably strongest continent on this planet. The cradle of ancient sovereign behemoths, where predatory flora grows massive enough to devour juvenile drakes whole. Every single landmass holds species found nowhere else. Doesn’t that ignite your curiosity as researchers?"

The students leaned forward in their seats, utterly captivated by the rotating continents.

Eric watched the drifting holographic landmasses with a quiet, burning ambition thrumming in his chest.

*Different continents with species never seen in Valoria... If I ever breach the General or Commander ranks and earn travel charters across the open seas, the kinds of beasts I could contract with are limitless.*

Drifting along the tiered rows of the lecture hall, Eric’s eyes casually swept past the rows of listening students, until they hit the far edge of the top tier.

A familiar figure was seated near the high, stained-glass gothic window.

Silken raven-black hair spilled over the collar of a pristine charcoal overcoat, and those striking, liquid ruby eyes were locked onto her notebook as a slender, pale hand sketched anatomical diagrams with steady, fluid strokes. Alena Blackthorn sat in absolute composure, radiant and completely unbothered by the quiet murmurs around her.

Eric found himself staring.

One second... five seconds... twenty seconds...

A full, unbroken minute passed with his chin resting in his palm, his gaze completely transfixed by the effortless aristocratic grace of the girl next door.

Then, as if sensing the persistent heat of a foreign gaze, Alena’s pen paused.

She turned her head smoothly toward the lower rows, her crimson eyes sweeping across the desks until they locked directly onto Eric’s face.

Caught dead in the act, Eric’s breath hitched in his throat.

Instead of scowling or turning away in cold disgust, Alena’s lips curved into a faint, gentle smile. She gave him a subtle, elegant nod of acknowledgment before lowering her gaze back to her vellum, continuing her notes as though nothing out of the ordinary had transpired.

The casual warmth hit Eric like a bucket of boiling oil.

Scalding heat surged violently up his neck, engulfing his cheeks and turning his ears bright crimson. Overwhelmed by the sudden realization of just how blatantly and rudely he had been gawking at an elite young woman, Eric brought his face straight down onto the desk.

*THWACK.*

The sound of his forehead slamming flat against the solid wood echoed across the quiet, hushed lecture hall.

Beside him, Jenna stiffened, whispering frantically through her teeth: "Shhhh! Eric! What are you doing?! The professor is staring right at you!"

"Ahhh, what...?" Eric groaned into the grain of the polished timber, lifting his red-marked brow in a panic.

Down on the podium, Professor Jones had stopped his lecture entirely. He pushed his wireframe spectacles up the bridge of his nose, his hazel eyes locking onto Eric with cold, unimpressed scrutiny.

"You there. The latecomer," Professor Jones called out, his voice echoing cleanly off the rafters. "Is something about the desk particularly more fascinating than the taxonomic variations of continental fauna? Or is something troubling you?"

Eric straightened his spine, clearing his throat awkwardly under the amused gaze of a hundred and fifty smirking students. "N-Nothing, Sir. Nothing is troubling me."

"Is that so?" Professor Jones folded his arms across his ivory coat, an arched, skeptical brow lifting high.

"Splendid. In that case, since you appear so comfortably detached from my lecture, why don’t you stand up and answer my question?"