Chapter 13: The Radar and the Rivalry

The morning sun filtered through the high windows of the Vanguard Elite dormitory.

Draven stood by the glass, looking out over the sprawling Academy grounds while sipping a glass of water. In the other room, he could hear Estella humming quietly to herself as she got ready.

As the digital clock on the wall struck 7:00 AM, the familiar chime echoed in his mind.

[Ding! Daily Sign-in Available!]

[Would you like to Sign-in? Yes / No]

’Yes,’ Draven thought.

[Sign-in Successful!]

[Reward: Skill - Tactical Radar (Active/Passive)]

[Effect: Grants a mental topographical map of a 1-kilometer radius. Identifies biological signatures, mana concentrations, and threats. Range and detail will expand as the Host levels up.]

Draven closed his eyes. Instantly, a sleek, three-dimensional blueprint of the Academy bloomed in his mind. He could see the exact layout of the dormitories, the mana signatures of the guards patrolling the perimeter, and even Estella’s bright, white-gold aura moving around in the next room.

’A built-in UAV drone,’ Draven smiled coldly.

’In a forest trial, this is practically a cheat code. No one is sneaking up on me, and I can track down the high-value targets before anyone else even knows they are there.’

Half an hour later, Draven and Estella walked into the main Academy Lobby.

The lobby was a massive, vaulted hall constructed from white marble and enchanted glass. Thousands of freshmen were buzzing with nervous energy.

At the center of the hall, a colossal holographic leaderboard floated in the air, displaying the current rankings from the physical exams.

[Neville Hennesy (9,500 pts)]

[Draven Mordis (9,400 pts)]

[Estella Everdawn (7,200 pts)]

"We’re top three!" Estella whispered excitedly, grabbing the sleeve of Draven’s jacket.

"For now," Draven replied.

They approached the main reception counters, where automated droids were handing out sleek, black metallic wristbands to the students.

"Nexus-Bands," Draven explained as he strapped his on. Estella copied him.

"They hold our IDs, our bank accounts, the Academy map, and they track our vitals during exams. They also sync directly to the leaderboards."

Before Estella could play with the holographic interface on her wrist, a deafening horn echoed through the lobby.

"ATTENTION, CADETS!" 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

Instructor Graves stood on a raised balcony overlooking the hall. He looked just as gruff as yesterday, though he glared specifically at Draven for a fraction of a second before addressing the crowd.

"In one hour, you will enter the Artificial Forest for the Vanguard Combat Trials. This is a closed ecosystem, heavily warded, and populated with monsters captured from the Dead Zones. Your objective is simple: Hunt. Survive. Score."

Graves pulled up a holographic chart behind him.

"Your Nexus-Bands will automatically register your kills. The point distribution is as follows:

Levels 0 to 5: 1 Point

Levels 6 to 10: 5 Points

Levels 11 to 15: 10 Points

Levels 16 to 20: 20 Points

Levels 21 to 25: 100 Points

"The cadet with the highest score at the end of the day wins the Trial. Dismissed!"

The crowd immediately broke into a frenzy of whispers and squad formations.

Draven looked at Estella.

"The strategy is simple. We don’t waste stamina on the Level 5 trash. We use my tracking to hunt the Level 15s and 20s. Quality over quantity."

"A very aggressive strategy, friend. But ultimately flawed."

Draven didn’t even need his Radar to know who was standing behind him. He slowly turned around.

Neville Hennesy stood there, flanked by a group of wealthy noble students who acted like his personal entourage. Neville wore spotless, shining silver armor that looked like it had never seen a drop of blood.

"Monsters are not just walking point bags," Neville said, his voice dripping with condescending righteousness.

"They are creatures corrupted by the Dead Zones. They have souls. If we show them mercy, if we subdue them with love instead of executing them, we can cleanse their corruption. True strength is healing the world, not bleeding it dry."

Draven stared at him for a long, silent moment. He then turned back to Estella.

"Like I was saying," Draven continued, completely ignoring the Golden Boy.

"We aim for the neck. Quick and efficient."

Neville’s smile twitched. "Did you hear me, Mordis?"

"I heard you," Draven said, not looking back. "I just realized there is no point reading scripture to a donkey."

A collective gasp echoed from Neville’s entourage.

"How dare you speak to the Young Master like that!" one of the lackeys barked.

"You only got second place because you used some dirty slum trick to break the machine from the inside!"

Neville held up a hand, silencing his lackey, though he didn’t correct the rumor. In fact, Draven could hear the whispers already spreading through the lobby. He cheated. He’s a fraud.

Neville stepped closer to Draven, his heroic mask slipping just enough to reveal the arrogant, spoiled noble underneath.

"You talk a big game for someone who hides behind cheap parlor tricks. If you are so confident in your brutal methods, why don’t we make it interesting?"

"A bet?" Draven asked, finally turning to face him.

"Exactly," Neville smirked.

"Whoever has the most points at the end of the Trial wins. The loser has to grant the winner one request. Anything they want. No questions asked."

Draven’s eyes narrowed. He knew exactly what he would ask for—he would force Neville to hand over the Epic-grade loot drop the System warned him about.

"Fine. You have a deal."

Neville’s smile widened into something dark and inherently gross. His bright blue eyes slid away from Draven and slowly dragged up and down Estella’s body. He licked his lips slightly.

"Excellent," Neville purred, his voice dropping so only they could hear. "I know exactly what I want when I win."

Estella shrank back, a shiver of pure disgust running down her spine.

Draven felt an immediate, violent spike of killing intent flood his veins. The temperature around him seemed to physically drop.

His S-Rank kinetic pressure unconsciously flared, causing the marble floor beneath his boots to crack with a sharp SNAP.

Before Draven could cave the Golden Boy’s chest in, a cold, sharp voice echoed from the side of the hall.

"A bet with no rules and an open prize?"

The crowd parted as a boy with piercing crimson eyes and dark, messy hair walked into the circle. He carried a long, terrifyingly sharp silver spear resting casually on his shoulders.

He looked at Neville with utter boredom, then shifted his gaze to Draven, a spark of dangerous excitement flashing in his eyes.

Aegon Logcheville. The spear-wielding genius of the first-year class.

Aegon slammed the butt of his spear against the marble floor, shattering the stone, and grinned like a predator.

"How about I join in too?"