Ember Reborn: The Flame That Defied Fate-Chapter 58: The Bell That Makes Kings -

Click.

The lecture hall door opened, and a man walked in with heavy steps.

A large frame. Broad shoulders. A face carved into something ferocious—like a beast that had learned how to speak politely only when necessary.

Professor Lucas Kane.

The moment he stepped onto the podium, the entire room tightened.

More than two hundred third-year warrior cadets sat crammed into the hall, but somehow, it felt like we were all sharing one breath.

Lucas scanned the rows with the eyes of a predator checking a herd.

"Let’s see..." he drawled. "Two hundred and fifty-three third-year warriors."

His gaze drifted toward the front row.

"Is everyone here?"

"Yes, sir." Yuren Helios stood smoothly, the representative of the Warrior Department. "All present."

A ripple of murmurs ran through the hall—quiet admiration, quiet nerves.

I clicked my tongue and looked around.

’Seeing it like this, the Warrior Department really is huge.’

More than half of the 472 third-year cadets were warriors—close combat specialists who treated "distance" like a personal insult.

Of the remaining students, most belonged to the Magic Department, and the rest were Support, clerics, or irregulars who didn’t fit neatly into one label.

The Support Department, for example, was full of healers and blessing-users like Iris.

Different roles. Different priorities.

But when it came to exams?

Everyone wanted the same thing.

Survive.

Score high.

And climb the ranking.

Lucas folded his arms.

"As you all know," he said, voice flat, "tomorrow is the Warrior Department’s midterm evaluation."

The room went still.

Even the cadets who had been whispering shut their mouths like someone had snapped a chain.

The third-year midterm.

Unlike the final exam at semester’s end—which forced mixed-department parties—the midterm was department-specific.

The weight distribution was brutal.

Midterm: 30%.

Final: 70%.

Some people treated the midterm like a warm-up because it had less weight.

Those people usually regretted it.

Because the third-year midterm wasn’t a warm-up.

It was a warning.

Lucas placed his hand on the magical device on the podium.

Light flared.

A holographic map rose into the air, hovering above us.

"There are three zones," Lucas said, tapping the air.

Green. Yellow. White.

"A mountainous region—dense forests and uneven terrain."

A shift. The green zone gained shape, showing ridgelines, thick woods, and narrow passes.

"A desert region—sand, rock, and open sightlines."

Yellow shimmered. Dunes formed, jagged stone outcrops jutting like broken teeth.

"And a snowfield—ice, wind, and poor footing."

The white zone hardened. Frost-covered plains, wind patterns, and a few elevated ridges.

Murmurs returned, louder now.

"Snowfield sounds miserable."

"Mountains are safest, right?"

"Desert gives vision advantage."

"I hate sand."

Lucas didn’t react.

He simply pressed another button.

The map dissolved into silhouettes of demonic beasts.

"Points are awarded based on the beast’s grade," Lucas said.

A cadet raised a hand.

"How many grades are there?"

Lucas nodded once.

"Good question."

He tapped the device again.

A series of beast heads appeared, each with glowing eyes.

"Regardless of species: three-eyed beasts are worth one point."

A murmur.

"Four-eyed beasts are worth three points."

More murmurs—now mixed with greed.

"Five-eyed beasts are worth ten points."

The lecture hall buzzed like a hornet nest.

"You’d need ten three-eyed beasts to match one five-eyed!"

"Going for quantity is safer!"

"Ten points is insane!"

"How do you even hunt a five-eyed beast?"

"Skillfully, I guess!"

Someone laughed nervously.

Someone else swallowed loud enough for their neighbor to hear.

Lucas waited until the noise rose to its peak.

Then—

"Silence."

Boom.

His fist hit the podium.

The sound was not loud.

It didn’t need to be.

The pressure in the room snapped everything quiet instantly.

Lucas’s grin returned—sharp and satisfied.

"I haven’t finished explaining," he said. "Save the strategy talk for later."

He pressed another button.

The hologram shifted.

A massive horse took shape in the air.

A majestic, snow-white body.

A glowing blue horn.

Lightning crackling along its mane and hooves, as if the air itself was afraid to touch it.

And most notably—

Three pairs of red eyes.

Six eyes, burning like warning lights.

Even as a hologram, the beast’s presence made my spine tighten.

The room erupted.

"Six eyes?!"

"That’s not a midterm target—"

"That’s something active heroes deal with!"

"Professor Lucas, you’re joking, right?!"

Lucas smiled wider.

"Do you think I prepared this if I wasn’t serious?"

The room froze again.

Lucas’s gaze swept the hall.

"Well," he continued, voice almost lazy, "I’m not saying you can hunt it."

A few cadets exhaled in relief.

Lucas’s grin sharpened again.

"I’m saying you can challenge it."

Groans filled the hall.

Lucas gestured up at the beast.

"This is a special mount trained by Professor Bianca of the Magic Department," he said. "It won’t attack unless you provoke it."

"Then we can—"

"Whoever breaks the bell around its neck," Lucas cut in, "automatically takes first place in the Warrior Department midterm."

The hall went dead silent.

Even the air stopped moving.

First place.

Automatically.

No matter how many points anyone else earned.

And Lucas wasn’t done.

"And whoever succeeds will receive a special reward."

Murmurs returned, sharper now.

"A reward...?"

"What kind?"

"Is it an artifact?"

"An elixir?"

Lucas lifted a hand.

"I’ll leave that as a surprise."

He paused, letting the temptation sink in.

"But it’s valuable."

If Professor Lucas called something valuable, it wasn’t a snack coupon.

Greed flickered across faces.

But reality came back quickly.

"...Six eyes."

"...Even if it won’t attack first..."

"What if we hit the wrong spot?"

"What if it reacts?"

"Could we sneak up?"

"You’d have to get close enough to touch the bell."

The room buzzed with anxious logic.

Lucas’s voice dropped.

The pressure returned—heavy and cold.

"Silence."

The hall obeyed.

Lucas scanned us like we were ingredients in a recipe.

"As you’ve heard," he said, "from third-year midterms onward, there is risk."

He didn’t dramatize it.

He didn’t soften it.

"If you overestimate yourself," he continued, "and move recklessly—things can go badly."

The words sank into the room like stones.

Lucas clicked his tongue, almost disgusted.

Then his eyes locked onto a familiar victim.

"Cadet Albert."

"Y-Yes, sir!"

Albert stood so fast his chair squeaked.

Lucas stared at him.

"Where are you?"

Albert swallowed.

"Uh... Main Building... Lecture Room—"

"Not the location," Lucas said. "Where are you enrolled?"

Albert’s eyes widened.

"...The Hero Academy."

"Exactly."

Lucas nodded once.

"You’re not here for comfort," he said. "Not for guaranteed futures. Not for fame."

His voice hardened.

"You’re here to learn how to survive as heroes."

The hall was quiet enough to hear breathing.

Lucas continued, calmer now.

"I’m not going to tell you not to be afraid."

A pause.

"I’m also not going to tell you not to back off if you should."

Another pause—long enough for people to feel seen.

"But if you want to live," Lucas said, "then think."

Think.

Measure.

Calculate.

"What you can do," he said, "what you can’t do, and what you need to learn."

He tapped the podium once.

"That is what this exam is for."

A hush lingered even after he stopped speaking.

Then Lucas waved a hand like he was dismissing us from a trial.

"Each candidate can choose their starting terrain," he said. "Decide what suits you."

With that, he turned and walked out of the lecture hall.

The door clicked shut behind him.

For a heartbeat, nobody moved.

Then—

"Whew..."

"His presence is insane..."

"Okay, okay—strategy time."

The hall exploded into noise.

"Mountains are safest!"

"Everyone will pick mountains!"

"Then pick desert!"

"Snowfield is miserable!"

"It might have fewer competitors!"

The battle of wits began before the exam even started.

When the lecture ended and people began filing out, Yuren approached me with quick steps.

His expression was calm.

But his eyes were sharp.

"Dale," he said, lowering his voice, "where are you starting?"

I didn’t hesitate.

"Mountains."

Yuren frowned slightly.

"The mountains? There’ll be too much competition."

"It’s still the easiest to move through," I replied.

That was true.

But it wasn’t the real reason.

The truth was—

I could move through the snowfields more comfortably than anyone here.

In my previous life, I’d wandered frozen continents for so long that ice felt like home.

So why choose mountains?

Because—

This time, I’m aiming for first place.

That six-eyed beast.

The white mount with lightning and a horn.

In my previous life, it first appeared in the mountainous region.

Back then, I hadn’t even considered chasing it.

I was too weak.

Too cautious.

Too busy surviving.

But now?

Now I could.

And the reward...

In my previous life, Yuren shattered the bell and claimed first place.

The special reward was a sword forged from the beast’s horn—an electric-blue blade that crackled with lightning when mana flowed through it.

Not a legendary artifact.

But far better than the basic iron sword on my hip.

’Sorry, Yuren,’ I thought, watching him. ’This time, it’s mine.’

Yuren studied my face carefully.

Then his expression stiffened.

"...Don’t tell me," he said slowly, "you’re planning to go after it."

I smiled.

"Yeah."

Yuren’s jaw tightened.

For a moment, he looked less like the calm "Sun’s Sword" prodigy and more like a competitive cadet with pride.

"No way," he muttered.

Then he lifted his chin slightly.

"No matter how skilled you are, I’m not yielding first place."

I shrugged.

"Then break the bell before I do."

Yuren’s eyes narrowed.

A beat passed.

Then he nodded once, sharply.

"...Fine."

He turned away.

"See you tomorrow, Dale."

I watched him go, amused.

’Who would’ve thought he’d care about grades this much?’

Maybe he always assumed first place was his by default.

Now that someone was actually challenging him, the rivalry woke up.

And honestly?

That was good.

Because tomorrow—

It wasn’t just an exam.

It was a race.

And I wasn’t planning to lose.