The silence in the conference room stretched. On the screen, the auditorium was nearly empty now, just a few stragglers and security personnel clearing out. The weight of what they'd just witnessed hung in the air.

  Leah stood up suddenly. "I need to meet someone."

  Nick rose as well, gathering his tablet. "We should go."

  Leah looked at Leon, Noah, and Alvin. "You three can stay here as long as you like. Order something if you want—the conference room services are available. We may meet again."

  She walked to the door, Nick following. They left without additional explanation, the door closing softly behind them.

  Noah stared at the closed door for a moment, then turned to Alvin. "Why does someone like her care about lower ranks anyway?"

  Alvin was quiet for a few seconds. "I'm not entirely sure. But it might be related to her older cousin. He was D status."

  "Was? Is he an alumnus?"

  "No. He died two years ago. Fourth year."

  The words hung there. Noah looked down at his hands.

  Leon noticed something odd. A few minutes ago, when the assembly had ended, he'd been tense—jaw tight, hands gripping the armrests of his chair. But now, he felt strangely calm. Almost detached. The shift surprised him.

  Alvin checked his phone. "We should head back. Classes will be starting soon."

  They gathered their things and left the conference room. The building's corridors were quiet, their footsteps echoing off polished floors. The elevator took them back down to the ground level, where the guard checked them out with the same professional disinterest he'd shown when they entered.

  Outside, students were moving through the campus in scattered groups. The atmosphere was different from this morning—heavier, subdued. Conversations were quieter. Fewer people were on their phones.

  As they walked, all three of their phones buzzed simultaneously.

  Leon pulled his out. A message from Professor Williams: "All classes cancelled today. Resume normal schedule tomorrow."

  "Classes are cancelled," Noah said, reading his own notification.

  Alvin nodded. "Makes sense. After an announcement like that, no one's going to focus on lectures."

  "You think it's related to the tournament?"

  "Obviously."

  They continued in silence. When they reached the point where their paths diverged—Alvin heading toward D3 areas, Leon and Noah toward D4—Alvin stopped.

  "I'll see you around," he said, then walked off without waiting for a response.

  Leon and Noah stood there for a moment, watching him go.

  "We should go to the administration office," Noah said suddenly.

  "What? "

  "To check your CPP. You still don't know your exact number, right? We need that information before registration opens tomorrow."

  "oh yes, I almost forgot "

  "Come on. I'll go with you just in case."

  The administration office building of D region was on the other side, a fifteen-minute walk from where they stood. They headed that direction, joining the flow of other students moving through the streets.

  The administration building was modern, glass-fronted, with the academy seal mounted above the entrance. Inside, the lobby was busy with students lined up at various service windows. Leon and Noah got in line at the one labeled "Student Records & CPP Inquiries."

  The wait took about twenty minutes. When they finally reached the counter, a middle-aged woman in professional attire greeted them.

  "How can I help you?"

  "I need to check my CPP count," Leon said, handing over his student ID.

  The woman scanned it, pulled up something on her computer, and frowned slightly. "You weren't informed of your CPP count during admission?"

  "No. My sponsor was anonymous."

  "That's... unusual." She typed more, clicking through screens. "Let me see here. Your current CPP is sixty-eight."

  Sixty-eight. Leon repeated the number in his head. Lower than he'd hoped but not disastrous. With the 30% lock for tournament registration, he'd have about forty-seven CPP as his working stake.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  "What about sponsor information?" he asked.

  More typing. The frown deepened. "The sponsor details still aren't showing. That's definitely an error in the system. I'll submit a request to have it corrected. Check back in a few days."

  "Thank you."

  They left the building. Outside, Noah immediately started grinning.

  "What?" Leon asked.

  "I kind of expected you'd have some crazy high number and had been placed in D4 by mistake, Then even I can gain advantage of that being your roommate, but alas, guess it was just a fantasy ”

  " well sorry to break your dreams & dragging you back to reality ”

  They started walking back toward the dorm. The afternoon sun was getting lower, casting long shadows across the streets. More students were out now, the initial shock from the assembly wearing off enough for people to resume normal activities.

  "Want to grab something to eat?" Noah asked.

  "We could go to that cafe near the second building."

  "Yeah, okay."

  But as they got closer to their dorm area, Noah slowed down. "Actually, I need to buy something first. You head back. I'll catch up later."

  "I can come help if you want."

  "No, it's fine. I'll be quick."

  "You sure?"

  "Yeah. See you at the room."

  Noah turned and walked off in a different direction before Leon could ask anything else. Leon watched him go for a moment, then continued to the dorm alone.

  Inside, the building was quieter than usual for this time of day. Most students were probably still out, dealing with the day's revelations in their own ways. Leon climbed the stairs to the second floor and went to room 204.

  The room felt empty without Noah. Leon sat at his desk, pulled out his phone, and stared at the number. Sixty-eight CPP. He'd lose about twenty-one to the registration lock. That left forty-seven to work with during Phase One.

  If he was eliminated in Phase One, he'd lose forty CPP. That would put him at eight total. Not in debt, but dangerously close.

  If he lost a single fight to someone higher ranked... the math got grim quickly.

  Leon set his phone down and tried to focus on something else. Homework. Reading. Anything.

  Meanwhile, elsewhere in the academy.

  The room was classical in design, almost anachronistic compared to the modern architecture that dominated most of Valorian. Wood paneling lined the walls, heavy curtains framed tall windows, and a long mahogany table occupied the center. It looked like something from a century-old university, preserved or recreated for tradition's sake.

  Around the table sat the academy's leadership. Professors occupied most of the seats—department heads, senior faculty, instructors who'd been at Valorian for years. At one end sat several Administrative Officers in formal business attire. At the head of the table, the Academy Chairman presided, an older man with gray hair and tired eyes.

  "This is unacceptable," Professor Williams said, his usual composed demeanor cracking. "The debt system alone is barbaric. But family asset seizure? Manufactured criminal charges? We're talking about destroying innocent people's lives."

  "The physical risks are also substantially higher than previous tournaments," another professor added. "Students have been seriously injured before, yes. But this new structure seems designed to encourage violence."

  "Mandatory participation for the lowest ranks," a third professor said. "These students have no choice. We're forcing them into a situation where they could lose everything—including their families' financial security."

  The Chairman had been listening quietly, hands folded on the table. When he spoke, his voice was measured but weary. "I share your concerns. Many of us do."

  "Then why wasn't the faculty consulted?" Professor Williams asked. "These changes are drastic. We should have been informed, given the opportunity to provide input."

  One of the Administrative Officers spoke up. "The tournament structure was decided by the Academy Board. Faculty consultation wasn't part of the approval process."

  "That's precisely the problem," Williams countered. "Students—no matter how influential their families—designed this system without any input from educators who actually understand the impacts."

  "The Board of Council has absolute authority over academy matters," another officer said. " It's always been this way."

  "But surely there's precedent for faculty concerns being heard? ”

  The Chairman sighed. "We can submit a formal request to the Board. Express our concerns about student welfare, the severity of consequences, the participation structure. Request they reconsider certain elements."

  "Will it make a difference?" someone asked.

  "That depends entirely on the Board members. They're not obligated to act on faculty recommendations."

  The officers nodded. One of them made a note on her tablet. "We'll inform the Board of Council that the faculty requests a review of tournament protocols. We'll communicate your specific concerns about the debt system and mandatory participation. But the final decision rests with them."

  "When can we expect a response?"

  "There's no standard timeframe. The Board operates on its own schedule."

  Professor Williams looked frustrated but said nothing more. Around the table, other faculty members exchanged glances. They all understood: their concerns would be noted, forwarded, and then most likely ignored.

  The meeting continued for another thirty minutes, covering logistical issues—how to handle classes during tournament weeks, support systems for students, protocols if serious injuries occurred. But the underlying tension remained. The faculty knew they were essentially powerless.

  When the meeting finally adjourned, professors filed out in small groups, talking quietly among themselves. The Chairman remained seated, staring at the empty table.

  One of the Administrative Officers approached him. "Will you be submitting the formal request?"

  "Yes. Though I suspect we both know the outcome."

  "The Board makes its own decisions."

  "Indeed." The Chairman stood slowly. "That's what concerns me most."

  Back at the dorm.

  Time passed slowly. He read through some course materials.

  Dinner time came. Leon headed down to the cafeteria, expecting to see Noah there. But the usual tables held only Emma and a few other familiar faces. No Noah.

  Leon ate quickly and went back to the room. Still empty. He checked his phone. 8:47 PM. No messages from Noah.

  He sent a text: "Where are you?"

  No response.

  Leon tried to study but couldn't focus. He took a shower, changed into comfortable clothes, lay on his bed. His phone showed 10:15 PM. Still nothing.

  He called. It rang several times before going to voicemail.

  "Hey, just checking if you're okay. Call me back."

  By 11:30, Leon was genuinely worried. Noah never went this long without responding. He tried calling again. Voicemail.

  Leon sat on his bed, staring at his phone, trying to decide if he should go looking or give it more time.

  At 11:52 PM, someone knocked on the door.

  Leon jumped up and opened it.

  Noah stood there, looking slightly out of breath. His hair was messy, clothes wrinkled like he'd been moving around a lot.

  "Where have you been? I've been calling—"

  "I need you to come with me." Noah's voice was urgent but not panicked.

  "What? Come where?"

  "Just trust me. Come on."

  Noah grabbed his hand and started pulling him toward the hallway.

  "Wait, I should change—"

  "No time. Let's go."

  Leon barely managed to grab his room key before Noah dragged him out the door and down the corridor, moving fast.