Chapter 152: Don’t Start Looking Guilty Now

A short distance away from the area where Lancet had been dragged off, the forest opened into a wider pocket of shadow and broken roots, a place where the canopy overhead was so dense that even the daylight seemed reluctant to reach the ground.

This was where Kallan and the rest of Elementalist-D were hiding. Kallan stood with a grin on his face, his arms folded loosely as he watched the distant struggle through the broken gaps in the foliage.

Through the dense, humid thicket, they had a perfect vantage point to watch Lancet Leogardt struggling against the massive, iron-hard vines. Lancet’s blade, the Radiant Guillotine, flashed with metallic brilliance even in the dim light, hacking furiously at the enchanted flora that had ensnared him.

The vines that had swallowed Lancet’s team were not visible from here in full, but the trembling of the nearby brush and the muffled sounds of chopping, shouting, and magical discharge carried clearly enough for him to enjoy the result.

Lingram, their Verdant Mage, let out a satisfied sigh. He lowered his right hand, the glowing green Grace that wreathed his fingers slowly fading into the air. He brushed a long strand of dark hair out of his left eye, a smug smirk settling on his face. "Got him. The vine barricade is solid."

Leslie laughed with spite. "That was perfect. The vines went up exactly when they needed to."

"They weren’t even prepared," Cecil said, sounding pleased with himself as he crossed his arms behind his head. "Never saw it coming."

Kallan leaned against a mossy trunk, his eyes fixed greedily on the gleaming edge of Lancet’s sword.

"Man, if the rules allowed equipment theft, I’d take that Guillotine off his hands in a heartbeat," he snorted. "It’s a waste on a defective Summoner."

Cecil laughed. "You’d probably have tried to keep it for yourself."

"Obviously," Kallan said.

That got another round of laughter from the group.

Leslie’s expression remained more openly hostile than the others. She looked almost irritated that she had to keep pretending this was all just competition instead of the chance to humiliate Lancet. "I can’t stand him," she said. "He struts around the academy like he owns the place just because he got a little lucky in Hebthej. It’s about time someone put him in his place."

Kallan glanced at her and smiled.

Frieda stood slightly apart from them, her face tighter and less satisfied than the rest. She had not laughed. She had watched the trap close around Lancet’s team and was now looking back toward the jungle with a troubled expression that was beginning to show through despite her efforts to keep it hidden.

Kallan noticed at once and clicked his tongue. "Oh, come on," he said. "Don’t start looking guilty now."

Frieda’s mouth tightened. "I’m not guilty."

"You’re looking at us like we just stabbed someone."

She looked away for a second, then back at him. "We’re in a competition."

"That’s right," Kallan said.

Frieda’s brow furrowed slightly. "But—"

"Don’t," Kallan cut in. His tone was still casual, but the warning underneath it was obvious enough to shut the rest of her sentence down before it could be spoken.

"This is exactly what Phiodor told us to do," he said. "We don’t show mercy to opponents. Not if we want to win."

Leslie crossed her arms. "Besides, it’s not like we did anything illegal."

"Just tactical interference," Cecil said with a laugh. "Nice and clean."

Lingram lowered his hand fully now, the green magic around it fading into nothing as the vines he had helped guide finished taking hold. "They’ll be fine," he said calmly. "Lancet the Demon Dissector, eh?"

Kallan chortled. "Let them stay there for a while."

He turned his gaze back toward the deeper jungle, where the direction of the boss chamber lay hidden behind layers of dense terrain and hostile routes.

"We need to cover more ground," he said. "The more we delay them, the better our chances of reaching the boss first."

Cecil grinned. "And for Lancet..." He let the sentence trail off with a wicked little laugh. "Hehe. Good luck."

Frieda’s expression remained troubled for only a moment longer. Then Kallan started walking, and the others fell in with him almost immediately.

"Come on," he said. "We’re done here."

The group moved out, brushing through the foliage and disappearing deeper into the jungle.

"Ho! Ho! Ho!" the announcer’s voice rolled across the Competition Platform back in the outside world. "That was pretty intense, huh? A brilliant maneuver by Elementalist-D. Pure, calculated sabotage!"

He leaned into his microphone, his voice dripping with theatrical excitement. "Now, I hear some boos from the Summoner-D supporters in the stands, but let’s be clear, everything Kallan and his team just did is technically legal!"

The camera feed shifted to show parts of the dungeon route, the giant overhead projections catching flashes of movement in the jungle below.

"The Academy allows tactical interference during D-Class expeditions. This is not a simple race. The purpose of these competitions is to harden students under pressure, and pressure from opposing squads is part of the design."

The screen changed again, showing the route structure and scoring bands.

"Strategy is very important. So, baiting, delaying, separating, and forcing opponents into less favorable positions are all within acceptable competition behavior so long as they do not cross the line into explicit cheating."

The announcer paused briefly, then continued.

"Lethal intent toward a fellow student, deliberate permanent Grace damage, tampering with the platform’s safety systems, contraband usage, or outside interference will be punished immediately. But as long as the judges can see it and the rules remain intact, tactical aggression is simply part of the game."

Headmistress Danistasia smiled with satisfaction at those words. Ordenance glanced at her grimly.

"The question now is," the announcer continued gleefully, "how is Summoner-D going to get out of this situation?"

Miss Maecil watched the scene with hopeful focus. "Come on guys."

Phiodor glanced at her direction with a mischievous smile.

Back inside the jungle, Lancet had finally forced his way free of the first line of vines. He hacked one final curtain of tangled green apart and stumbled forward into a dark pocket of forest where the light seemed to vanish between the trees.

The blade in his hand flashed as he lowered it slightly and looked around, chest rising and falling from the effort.

It was deathly silent here.

"What the hell just happened?" he muttered, glancing around.

"Lancet!"

Lancet’s ears perked. That was Kasto’s voice, distant but unmistakable.

He spun slightly, trying to orient himself through the curtain of trees. "I’m here!"

A moment later another shout came back, more muffled but equally urgent.

"Lancet, answer us!"

That was Dane.

The muffled, panicked shout came from behind the massive four-walled barricade of bark and roots. Lancet rushed to the thick wall of vegetation, pressing his free hand against the rough bark. "I’m here! I’m fine! Are you guys okay?"

"Thank the heavens," Kasto shouted. "You’re alive."

Lancet let out a short breath that was almost a laugh. "Just barely."

"Can you move?" Vera’s voice asked from somewhere behind the wall of vines. "We can hear you, but we can’t see you."

"I’m free from the vine but these giant walls of vines... I can’t get through."

On the other side, the team was clearly moving too. He could hear wood cracking, roots being yanked apart, and summons striking at the dense barriers.

Min Tu’s voice came through next. "We’re working on getting you out, Lancet."

There was a pause, then Dane again, sounding more frustrated. "This is going to take forever if we do it by hand." his voice rumbled with frustration. "My Ursine is trying to portal through, but we haven’t learnt to portal to positions we can’t see!"

"Don’t waste your Grace then," Lancet ordered, pressing his face closer to a small crack in the bark. "We need to break this down manually. Start hacking at the roots. Min Tu, have your Skeleton use the cleaver. I’ll cut from this side."

"Okay," Min Tu responded cleanly. "Beginning demolition."

Lancet stepped back, leveling the Radiant Guillotine. He was being cautious, relying purely on his physical strength and the natural sharpness of the sword’s edge, refusing to funnel his Grace into the weapon.

With his channels fluctuating, continuously triggering his Grace could cause a short-circuit, as Nurse Hallow has warned him.

So with that in mind, Lancet swung with physical strength alone, the heavy blade biting deep into the enchanted bark. Splinters flew, but the progress was agonizingly slow. He hacked again, and again, his muscles burning from the physical exertion.

The bell sang again, and Lancet paused, glancing up to see the updated leaderboard.

[ 1. Enchanter-D : 620 ]

[ 2. Specialist-D : 605 ]

[ 3. Elementalist-D : 595 ]

[ 4. Summoner-D : 555 ]

They were dead last.

Lancet gritted his teeth, his eyes narrowing at the glowing blue ’4’. He looked at the vines, then at the dark around him, then at the blade in his hand.

"Fine," he whispered.

He couldn’t afford to play it entirely safe. He needed to speed this up. Taking a measured breath, Lancet reached into his core and pulled a thin, controlled thread of Grace, funneling it down his arm and into the hilt of the Radiant Guillotine.

The sword immediately hummed to life, as the edges sharpened with magical light.

He raised the glowing blade, ready to carve a massive chunk out of the barricade. But a sound froze the blood in his veins.

Grrrrrrrr-rumble.

A hungry growl came from behind him. The growl of a predator that had already cornered its prey.

Lancet slowly lowered the sword and carefully turned around to investigate.

From the pitch-black tree line, massive silhouettes began to detach themselves from the darkness. They stepped into the radius of the Guillotine’s light, one by one.

They reminded Lancet of King Kong; massive and broad and covered in thick dark fur, their shoulders hunched as they pushed through the shadows with predatory determination.

Their bodies were built like mountain beasts, heavy with muscle, their arms long enough to hang almost to their knees. One had a scar across its chest and a broken tusk-like fang protruding from the side of its jaw. Another had pale markings around its eyes and a broad, flattened nose that flared as it scented the air. A third, even larger than the rest, carried a jagged stone club dragged loosely in one huge hand.

Their eyes glinted in the darkness.

Lancet felt the full weight of the situation settle onto him as they shifted around him, slowly closing their circle.

He was surrounded.