Chapter 69: You Are Fighting A Losing Battle I

Stormhold Academy, outside the medical wing.

Professor Richard Evergreen, head of the medical wing, and Doctor Isabelle White stood together in the cool night air, discussing the day’s work.

It was late, well past midnight, and both of them were about to head home and get some much-needed rest.

Even though they were powerful awakeners with bodies far beyond normal humans, their line of work usually left them mentally and physically exhausted.

"I’m genuinely glad the Academy seems to have settled down after that whole gymnasium incident two months ago."

Richard spoke as he stretched his back, hearing it crack.

"Previously, I honestly thought that Damian fellow would lead those commoners to fight with the Nobles on a daily basis. Constant injuries, constant drama, constant overtime for us. But it seems I was overthinking it. No extra work, no headaches. Peace and quiet."

He sighed in relief.

For him, more student fights meant exponentially more work. It was always better when peace was maintained, even if it was boring.

"I wouldn’t get my hopes too high just yet, Richard."

Isabelle replied, her white eyes scanning the distant campus grounds out of habit.

"That kid has probably just been training heavily in isolation since that day. He was beaten up quite badly by Gareth, after all.

Though I have heard through my little sister that the organization he established has actually been keeping a strange balance among the first years. It’s honestly my first time seeing a situation where a single batch had two equally strong factions like this."

Richard nodded thoughtfully.

"Well, I wonder how long that Mafia of his can realistically last, though. They have absolutely no official funding or institutional resources backing them.

The Noble faction, on the other hand, has access to family wealth, expensive supplements, rare skills and weapon arts passed down through generations. They’ll progress much faster. It won’t be long before we see them challenging the Mafia’s influence and crushing them. It’s good to be young and idealistic, I suppose..."

He sighed again, this time with a touch of nostalgia.

All the professors had been quietly curious and interested in these political developments over the past two months. Things had been getting quite predictable and boring around campus lately.

"...What’s that?"

Isabelle suddenly spoke, her voice carrying confusion as she looked toward the main road leading to campus.

Richard followed her gaze and his eyes widened slightly.

Six armored trucks were approaching the Academy gates at high speed.

Not the cheap civilian kind. Military-grade armored transport vehicles, black and imposing, with reinforced plating that could withstand serious attacks.

Their drivers definitely weren’t students. But Richard, with his S- rank awakener eyesight, could clearly see all the passengers sitting inside the trucks through the reinforced windows.

His expression went from curious to resigned in seconds.

"...I’ll be damned. Looks like we jinxed it hard."

Richard spoke in a completely helpless voice.

"It’s all the Mafia students, and from what I can see, almost every single one of them is injured to some degree. Some seriously."

This meant they would absolutely be working overtime tonight.

"Sigh..."

Isabelle sighed deeply and immediately called into the medical wing through her communication device.

"All staff, we have incoming mass casualties. Get the stretchers ready, prepare the emergency treatment rooms, and have the Aura healing pods on standby. Move quickly."

The six armored trucks rolled to a smooth stop directly in front of the medical wing entrance, their engines rumbling before shutting off in sequence.

The rear doors of the lead truck opened with a heavy metallic thunk.

Damian stepped out first.

He was completely covered in blood from head to toe. His crimson hair was matted with it, his clothes were soaked, and his hands were stained dark red. Even his face had dried blood splattered across it in a grotesque pattern.

But he moved with perfect composure, not a single injury visible on his body.

Behind him, the other Mafia members began emerging from the trucks.

Edrin needed help getting out, one arm wrapped protectively around his broken ribs.

Lysa was pale as death, her hands still trembling.

Ronan limped heavily, his knee badly swollen.

Zavier looked like he might faint or vomit at any moment.

Student after student emerged, all bearing various injuries. Cuts, bruises, broken bones, burns from Aura clashes. Blood everywhere.

But they were all alive.

Every single one.

The medical staff rushed forward with stretchers and emergency equipment, their professional training kicking in immediately despite the shocking scene.

Damian’s eyes found Doctor Isabelle standing near the entrance.

He recognized her instantly as the one who’d previously treated him after his body training collapse.

He walked toward her calmly, his blood-soaked appearance not seeming to bother him at all.

"Doctor Isabelle."

His voice was polite, respectful even.

"I’m afraid we’re going to need your help tonight."

****

After making sure Ariana was settled and helping coordinate the other injured students with the medical staff, Damian excused himself.

He climbed the stairs to the roof of the medical wing building, seeking solitude and quiet.

He liked spending time alone in silence, practicing his breathing technique and letting his mind process everything.

It was an extremely cloudy night. No stars were visible in the sky at all, everything hidden behind thick, dark clouds.

Strong winds blew constantly, and Damian’s long crimson hair broke free from the temporary knot he’d tied earlier, whipping around his face.

As he stood there near the roof’s edge, letting the wind wash over him, he heard gentle footsteps approaching from behind.

A green-haired, green-eyed middle-aged man wearing a white medical coat walked toward him with a gentle, practiced smile on his face.

’An Evergreen?’

Looking at that distinctive green hair color, which was quite unique and specific to that particular Imperial family’s bloodline, Damian immediately came to that conclusion.

"Hello, Damian."

The man’s voice was warm, friendly.

"I’m Professor Richard Evergreen, head of the medical wing and also the homeroom teacher for the fourth year’s Section A. Pleasure to finally meet you properly."

Richard smiled as he introduced himself, coming to stand beside Damian near the roof’s edge.

"It’s nice to meet you as well, Professor."

Damian turned to face him and bowed slightly, showing genuine gratitude.

"Thank you for taking care of my friends downstairs. I really appreciate it."

"Don’t worry about it at all. It’s literally our job to look after students when they get injured. That’s what we’re here for."

Richard waved off the thanks casually.

"Though I did come up here to check on you personally as well. Your entire body is completely covered in blood, after all. Should probably make sure you’re not hiding any serious injuries under all that."

His experienced eyes scanned Damian’s figure from head to toe, looking for signs of wounds.

"It’s not mine. No need to worry about me."

Damian shrugged, his tone utterly casual.

"..."

Richard became genuinely stunned for a moment, then looked at Damian much more closely to confirm.

Not a single visible injury. Not even a scratch.

All that blood belonged to other people.

"Sigh... care for a cigar?"

Richard sighed heavily and pulled out two expensive cigars from his coat pocket, handing one to Damian before he could refuse.

"Thanks."

Damian didn’t refuse the offer.

It had been quite a tiring day for him as well, despite how easy it might have looked when he was systematically shooting down enemies one by one from his rooftop position.

It was actually incredibly hard and mentally taxing work.

He’d had to constantly pay attention to the entire chaotic battlefield, tracking dozens of moving targets simultaneously, calculating trajectories, prioritizing threats, and keeping a vigilant eye on every single Mafia member to make absolutely sure none of them died.

Even with his abnormally strong willpower stat, he was genuinely exhausted.

The two of them just stood there in companionable silence, looking up at the cloudy sky as they smoked their cigars.

Rumble.

The wind was becoming even stronger, and the clouds were starting to make ominous thundering sounds. A storm was definitely coming.

"There’s actually one more reason I came up here to find you specifically."

Richard spoke again after several minutes of silence.

"I also wanted to see closely for myself the disciple personally taken in by the Headmaster. You’re quite the topic of conversation among the faculty."

"...?"

Damian put on a genuinely confused expression, turning to look at Richard.

"Ah, I see. You don’t even know yet, do you?"

Richard smiled at Damian’s obvious confusion.

"Actually, there’s only one person in the entire Federation who can properly teach the Abyssal Slaughter weapon art to anyone. And that person is the Headmaster of our Academy. You must have met him by now if you’re learning that art."

"...You mean that weird old man with the strange fetish for collecting heads?"

Damian’s face showed understanding dawning.

"..."