Chapter 114: The Aftermath of First Combat: A Silver Surprise

The morning mist at the forest’s edge stirred, disturbed by hurried footsteps, as the figures of Chixiao’s team were the first to burst forth from the woodland shadows.

Their academy uniforms had long lost their original colors, now stained with the deep purple blood of demonic beasts, while charred holes marred their cuffs, singed by fire magic.

Chixiao, at the forefront, stumbled forward, leaning heavily on a staff, yet his eyes still blazed with a fierce fighting spirit, as intensely scorching as the fire magic he habitually wielded.

“It seems some of you had a rather fruitful harvest,” the Fire Element Instructor remarked, his gaze fixed on the bulging leather pouch at Chixiao’s waist, from which the faint, coppery-red glint of several magic cores was visible.

But as his eyes fell upon the scabbed claw marks marring the youths’ hands, his tone immediately grew grave.

“Medical team! Tent Three, prepare burn ointments!”

One after another, more teams emerged from the dense jungle.

Unlike Chixiao’s team, who, despite their disheveled state, exuded an air of triumph, most of the other students appeared as if their very souls had been drained.

Some hung their heads in utter dejection, others wore expressions of bitter reluctance, but the overwhelming sentiment was an undeniable sense of profound defeat.

This was hardly surprising; as their first practical combat training in three years of enrollment, many students simply did not understand how to confront demonic beasts, much less how to survive in the wilderness while simultaneously fending off ambushes from other teams.

This was further compounded by the limited resources and brutal competition prevalent in the training grounds.

Most teams ultimately returned empty-handed, with only a few slightly stronger groups managing to hunt a couple of Bronze-tier magic cores, thus at least avoiding a complete zero on their scoreboards.

The most unfortunate team had even fashioned a makeshift stretcher from branches, upon which lay a youth whose right leg was thoroughly entangled with blood vines—a clear sign they had encountered a Blood Vine Demon, a Bronze-tier demonic beast.

“Just as I expected,” the Wind Element Instructor sighed softly, as a gentle breeze, swirling around his fingertips, lifted a flask of fresh water to the lips of a dehydrated student.

“Implementing a survival competition mode for their first practical training is far too cruel for these children.”

Dean Yu Qinglan silently observed the unfolding scene.

“Cruel, you ask? Wait until they face a true demonic beast tide in their graduation year…”

He suddenly raised his voice, “Recording team, tally the magic cores! Healing class, prioritize fractures and poisoning cases!”

The Fire Element Instructor dashed forward, his broad hand firmly steadying the stumbling Chixiao.

He utilized fire magic, dispelling the damp forest air clinging to the youths.

“You brats did well,”

he grumbled in a rough voice, yet carefully avoided Chixiao’s shoulder, where an acid-corroded wound festered.

“But next time, remember to neutralize Lava Lizard stomach acid with ice crystal powder!”

Instructors from various elements had already dispersed among the crowd.

The Wind Element Instructor’s fingertips swirled with emerald-colored air currents, and wherever he passed, withered leaves and bloodstains on the students’ hair transformed into shimmering specks of light.

Meanwhile, the Water Element Instructor maneuvered cooling mist through the throng, and as the vapor brushed past, even uniforms torn by demonic beasts were restored to their pristine state.

“Bear with it; it might tickle a little,” the Chief of the Healing Department said, kneeling beside a stretcher with her hands hovering above the injured student’s festering wound.

Within a milky-white halo, flesh and blood slowly regenerated, as if being delicately woven by invisible fingers.

Catching sight of several students’ astonished expressions from the corner of her eye, she explained, “This is an intermediate healing technique. If you choose to specialize in the healing element, you’ll soon have the opportunity to learn it.”

Dean Yu Qinglan stood at the edge of the elevated platform.

He observed the young faces, survivors of the arduous ordeal; some chuckled foolishly, clutching their magic cores, others stared blankly at their newly healed scars, while a few children embraced, simultaneously crying and laughing.

The old man’s wrinkled eyes softened at the corners.

“Good,” he murmured to himself inwardly, gazing at the healing magic arrays that were gradually illuminating the plaza, their light reflecting in the students’ eyes like nascent stars.

These tender fledglings had today pecked through the shell of fear, and tomorrow, they would soar through true storms.

As the students gradually settled down and began to enjoy the breakfast prepared by the logistics instructors, the recording team instructors also commenced their tense tabulation work.

They went from group to group, collecting magic cores and recording scores, occasionally punctuated by a sigh.

Some groups had clearly foregone the perilous hunting of demonic beasts, opting instead to collect low-tier herbs.

While each stalk only yielded meager points, it offered the distinct advantage of safety and stability, alleviating worries of ambushes from other teams.

As the morning light grew brighter, the recording team’s papers were already covered with hastily scribbled scores.

The recording instructor pushed up his crystal spectacles, his pen tip leaving an ink blot on yet another zero score.

He looked up at the dejected trio before him, their uniforms so pristine they looked as if they had merely gone on a picnic, the only items they could submit being a few common Moonlight Grass stalks.

“Do you know why this type of grass grows near the nests of Bronze-tier Iron-Armored Turtles?” the recording instructor asked, poking at the wilting herb with his pen, the back of its leaves bearing suspicious tooth marks.

“Because demonic beasts don’t even bother to eat this.”

As he delivered this scathing remark, the faces of the three students instantly turned paler than the Moonlight Grass itself.

“Another zero score…” The recording instructor shook his head, drawing a circle on the roster.

These students were either lacking in strength or simply possessed terrible luck, unable to even defeat the lowest-tier Bronze demonic beasts.

If this continued, the Matthew Effect, where the strong grow stronger and the weak grow weaker, would only become increasingly pronounced.

When he arrived at Liu Yuxuan’s team, this restless young man was craning his neck, looking around.

“What are you looking at?” The recording instructor tapped the clipboard impatiently.

“If you have magic cores, hand them over. If not, I’m moving to the next group. Leaping around like a monkey first thing in the morning…”

The mere mention of Liu Yuxuan made the recording instructor frown involuntarily.

This perennial underachiever, consistently ranking second-to-last in his grade, and the eternal laggard Ye Xingchen, could truly be called an unmatched pair.

Compared to the grade’s top students, Su Liyue and Mu Wanqing, they were like opposite poles.

“I have some! I have some!” Liu Yuxuan exclaimed, fumbling to pull off his storage ring.

As he pulled out a magic core shimmering with a silver halo, the glittering, silvery crystal was unmistakably a Silver-tier magic core!

The recording instructor’s pupils constricted, his heart jolted in surprise.

He incredulously pushed up his spectacles, reappraising the perennial second-to-last student before him.

This kid had actually managed to get into a team capable of killing a Silver-tier demonic beast?

Should he credit his thick skin and good connections, or had he simply stumbled into incredible luck and latched onto someone powerful?

“You… you didn’t just pick up someone else’s discarded…”

“Instructor!” Liu Yuxuan suddenly straightened his back, a rare look of seriousness appearing on his grubby face.

“We were chased by that wolf for two whole hills,” he declared.

“If you don’t believe me…” As he spoke, he began to unbutton his clothes.

The recording instructor waved a hand, cutting him off, and heavily inscribed “Silver-tier +50 points” into the scorebook.

As Liu Yuxuan joyfully ran off, the instructor adjusted his spectacles, the reflection on the lenses obscuring his twitching mouth.

‘What in the world was that stuff clinging to the kid’s pant leg?’ he wondered.

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