( James Vellaroux's POV )
Sophie Trohan was irritating.
Not personally.
That would have been simpler.
She was irritating because Class Three reached the convergence point before mine.
I had expected them to be slower.
No SS-potential student.
Less combat-focused than Class Two.
And they had started inside a fog-covered forest that apparently altered directions whenever it felt like being difficult.
Yet when Class Two finally reached the rocky valley where our routes converged, Sophie and her people were already there.
Not merely waiting.
Prepared.
Three scouts occupied elevated rocks overlooking the eastern and western approaches.
Two more students stood watch near the road.
Water containers had been filled and arranged beside a temporary resting area.
Several injured students were receiving treatment.
And in the middle of it all, someone had dragged a flat slab of stone into the clearing and covered it with maps.
I stopped at the edge of the camp.
