Chapter 1287: A Swift Correction

To be fair to the young cadets, who were starting to look like a collection of shaking sticks surrounded by several massive boulders, they actually managed to remain surprisingly levelheaded even after hearing the overarching mission brief.

"Caldris Minor-7 is currently considered hostile territory. Enemy forces have seized the outpost and established control over several former mining and industrial sectors. Their exact strength, disposition, and capabilities are unknown as of this very moment."

Vice Principal March allowed the information to settle before continuing.

"Your primary objective is the recovery and extraction of designated assets from within the occupied territory."

Quiet gasps and heavily restrained whispers rippled through the rows of first-years, but no one dared to break formation.

So far, so good!

They even managed to maintain that composure after learning that how they accomplished those objectives would largely be left to them.

Each team would be responsible for managing its own personnel, equipment, provisions, routes, and engagements, along with whatever unexpected complications arose throughout the exercise.

Basically, they would be given the mission, the resources available to them, and enough intelligence to get started.

Everything else?

Figure it out themselves.

Admittedly, that sounded terrifying enough.

But what finally had several freshmen sweating bullets was the explanation of how they would actually be evaluated.

Success might ultimately depend on accomplishing their collective objectives, but their individual performance would be assessed by battalion—each containing an average of five hundred cadets.

"..."

Five hundred!

For some students, that was actually reassuring.

At least they weren’t going to be thrown onto a hostile mining planet in tiny squads of six or ten and politely told to survive!

The cadets from the non-combat divisions were particularly relieved. Whatever awaited them on Caldris Minor-7, at least they’d have hundreds of people around them who could presumably fight.

Lamentably, that sweet sense of relief lasted approximately until the holographic projection changed.

Five empty placeholders appeared on one side of the display.

Then another five appeared opposite them.

"!"

The whispers immediately returned.

Because apparently, they wouldn’t simply have ten battalions working together against the hostile forces occupying Caldris Minor-7.

No.

Those same ten battalions would also be competing against each other. Maybe not in the same way they’d be fighting the hostile forces currently occupying the planet, but they’d certainly be fighting over territory, supplies, intel distribution, and, most importantly, the exact same mission objectives.

The word Contested in CREX suddenly made a horrifying amount of sense.

Still, even that wasn’t enough to completely destroy the freshmen’s remaining optimism.

Five hundred people per battalion was still five hundred people!

Surely, with that many cadets working together, they could figure something out.

Then the holographic projection flickered almost imperceptibly again.

This time, new information populated the display.

And suddenly, a very specific group of people began looking considerably less optimistic.

"!"

"Wait..."

"There’s no way."

"Hey..."

The shaky voice of one Oliver Mylor reached Luca’s ears from beside him.

"This has to be a joke, right?"

Luca turned toward his good brother.

Ollie had gone strangely pale.

At first, Luca couldn’t understand why.

Then he followed the blonde’s gaze toward the holographic display.

Ten enormous headshots were already arranged across the board, each accompanied by a name and designation.

"..."

Luca stared.

His golden eyes slowly narrowed as he stopped just staring and actually started making sense of what the board was showing them.

Naturally, he started from the left.

The first five headshots belonged to cadets whose names and uniforms he didn’t recognize.

But starting from the sixth?

Dominic Vantari.

Leah Azren. Seventh.

Xavier Montclair. Eighth.

Kyle Nox. Ninth.

And last, but apparently not least, one extremely familiar Luca Kyros. Tenth.

"?!"

The already despondent, field-trip-deprived chipmunk had flinched when his husband’s photo appeared, followed immediately by Kyle’s. After all, the bold label displayed above all ten portraits made the implications fairly obvious.

[CADET BATTALION COMMANDERS]

If Xavier and Kyle were commanding separate battalions, then they probably wouldn’t be in the same group.

But Luca definitely hadn’t expected to see his own face sitting there as the tenth photo!

Oh no.

Did that mean he was going to have to compete against his friends, and his very own husband?!

Luca immediately turned toward Xavier, who was honestly radiating such a cold aura that, had the other cadets not assumed their sudden chills came from learning about this farce of an exercise, they might’ve attributed them to being surrounded by malicious spirits instead.

But even without the temperature dipping, just judging by the dark expression settling over his husband’s face, the Imperial Crown Prince clearly didn’t appreciate the arrangement either.

Unfortunately, neither of them had much time to process or talk about the most recent development—

DING!

A sharp chime suddenly echoed throughout the Training Hall as thousands of terminals, which had supposedly been restricted to their most basic functions, lit up at the exact same time.

"!"

Every cadet had received a numerical designation.

Their battalion assignments.

The previously orderly formations immediately dissolved into panicked murmurs as students hurriedly checked their screens and began comparing numbers.

Ada glanced down at her terminal.

"Battalion 8."

Her eyes shifted toward the holographic projection, widening slightly when she saw the commander attached to that number.

"I’m under... Xavier."

It wasn’t as if Ada had started referring to him by his rightful title even after learning his real identity, but somehow, having to call out his name like this felt dangerously close to being insolent when she even referred to Princess Kira properly despite how close they were.

But that wasn’t something she ought to be thinking about at a time like this.

For one, she should probably be thankful that she’d ended up under someone she knew and who was certifiably competent.

Regrettably, Ada’s relief quickly gave way to concern when she remembered the person she was actually responsible for.

"Your Highness!"

However, instead of the response coming from her charge, it was Noah who answered.

"She’s in Battalion 9 with me."

He glanced toward the corresponding portrait.

"Under Kyle."

Meanwhile, Jax, who had been unusually gaunt earlier, took one look at his terminal before immediately brightening.

"Whoa! Sweet! We’re in Battalion 10!"

Sure enough, he was probably the person capable of recovering the fastest, because he still managed to bump shoulders with Theo before looking toward Luca with a boyish grin.

"With you!"

"Oh!"

Luca immediately felt a little better, despite D-29 having actually asked if he wanted the names and headshots changed in real time out of concern and rightful panic.

He still wasn’t sure how he felt about suddenly being made responsible for an entire battalion, but at least he wouldn’t be completely alone!

All around them, the Training Hall had descended into chaos, with thousands of cadets frantically comparing assignments and searching for familiar faces.

Yet one person remained suspiciously silent.

Ollie.

"Brother?"

Luca turned toward him.

The blonde’s wrist was still frozen halfway through raising his terminal.

Then, without warning, Ollie grabbed Luca’s arm.

Hard.

"?"

His eyes were trembling.

Not blinking.

Just trembling.

Then, in a deeply concerned yet strangely mechanical voice, Ollie asked, "Brother... what are the chances of me getting left behind if I accidentally can’t help myself and complain a little?"

Luca stared at him.

What?

Why would his brother be left behind?!

Ollie apparently realized from that expression alone that Luca had absolutely no idea what he was talking about.

So, like a thief terrified of getting caught, he began making increasingly frantic eye movements toward someone standing a few inches away.

His eyes darted toward Xavier.

Back to Luca.

Then Xavier again.

Luca followed the movement.

Then looked back at Ollie.

"Huh? Brother... are you sick?"

"..."

Of course.

Why had the mop expected anything else?

The saint known as Luca Kyros would never understand that his beloved husband was also the demon incarnate to literally everyone else with functioning survival instincts!

Fine, then.

He’d just have to be blunt.

"No! But I’m about to be!"

Luca’s eyes widened.

"Brother, of all the battalions they could’ve assigned me to, why couldn’t they put me with you or my husband?! What kind of injustice is this?!"

"Eh?"

"If I don’t come back with everyone else, you have to look for me!" Ollie urgently whispered. "Chances are, your husband probably offloaded me somewhere!"

Gasp!

"What?!"

Luca looked genuinely horrified.

Apparently, he was also the only person within hearing distance who found the accusation surprising.

"But Brother, why would you be offloaded?!"

Ollie opened his mouth.

Oh, he had reasons.

So many incredibly obvious reasons!

Unfortunately, before the blonde could share even one of them, he suddenly felt something cold and distinctly lethal, boring into the back of his neck.

It wasn’t an actual weapon.

But judging by Xavier’s dagger-like stare, it might as well have been.

"!"

The blonde who worked so hard to survive to that day froze.

His hair antenna instantly frayed in distress.

Very, very slowly, his eyes shifted sideways.

Xavier was still standing several inches away.

Still looking at the roster.

At least, he appeared to be looking at the roster now that the blonde was checking.

"..."

Ollie pursed his lips so tightly it looked like he’d somehow swallowed them.

Then he opened his mouth again and performed the fastest narrative correction of his life.

"N-Never mind, Brother!"

Luca blinked.

"I-I think I’ll be treated very appropriately!"

Another pause.

"Especially with Ada there! Right?!"

Ollie turned toward her with naked desperation.

"..."

Ada stared back.

For one brief moment, she seemed to seriously consider whether she was willing to participate in this blatant lie.

Then she slowly nodded.

"Yes."

Ollie’s shoulders sagged with relief.

However, Ada wasn’t particularly reassured herself.

The Imperial Crown Prince was undeniably skilled, and if the purpose of this exercise was to survive hostile territory and accomplish their objectives, there were certainly far worse commanders to end up with.

The problem was that he was also terrifyingly thorough.

And considering how many possible configurations would’ve allowed the members of DG to remain with the people they were most accustomed to working alongside, Ada couldn’t help wondering the same thing as everyone else.

Why exactly had the Academy divided them this way?