After his talk with Trux, Athar returned to his room. The moment the door closed shut behind him, a transformation swept over his entire demeanour.
The slouched shoulders, pressured down by nervousness, fear, and anxiety, straightened with a sharp crack. A newfound energy surged through his spine, and he stood tall, exuding an aura of purpose and resolve.
The expression of panic that had marked his face just moments before vanished. It was replaced by a calm and calculating confidence. It was as if an entirely different man was now standing there. A man who was prepared to face every challenge and adversary that lay ahead in his path.
"Trux," Athar muttered under his breath, his tone cold and laced with steel. "So, you are the first link in that mysterious and powerful web Dervin spoke of."
A dangerous grin slowly stretched across his lips. It was a smile that radiated a silent threat.
"How convenient of you to deliver yourself right to my doorstep," he added with that same dangerous glint.
If Trux had not revealed his strength by showcasing his aura, Athar might have remained cautious around him. That aura which Trux had projected to suppress and threaten Athar had revealed everything that Athar might have wanted to learn. He was certain that it had been nothing more than an E Rank aura.
If Athar had not known, he would have had to weigh far too many considerations. But the moment Trux thought that flashing his aura would be an effective way to pressure Athar, the fool lost the plot entirely.
Trux had assumed that his aura would intimidate and frighten Athar. He had perhaps wanted to cow Athar into submission, but the effect it produced was the exact opposite. That display had made one thing abundantly clear to Athar. If the need arose, he could absolutely take Trux on.
And for that, he owed endless gratitude to the Tree of Origin. As far as Athar was concerned, that miraculous tree was the sole reason behind his absurd talent. The power provided by the tree was his trump card in a world full of predators.
Shaking these thoughts aside, Athar turned to his wooden cupboard and retrieved one of the beast cores stored inside. It was time for cultivation.
Athar had made an approximate calculation that, at the speed he could absorb mana from the beast core, he could make a breakthrough to E Rank in two months.
For that to happen, he needed one beast core daily. But he received only five beast cores a week, which meant he would need almost fifteen additional cores in two months. Even so, Athar was determined to achieve his breakthrough within the next two months. He would come up with a method to get those extra cores.
Athar set aside his thoughts of acquiring extra beast cores, deciding to worry about them later. For now, he needed to focus on cultivation, knowing it was going to be an eventful week.
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The next morning, the very first thing Athar did, even before heading to his theory class, was to collect his weekly resource quota. Without delay, he carefully placed the cloth sack containing the resources inside his room, ensuring it was safely stored away.
So far, Athar had grasped one absolute truth about the academy. No matter how much it turned a blind eye to bullying, pranks, or any other kind of trouble, intruding into another student's room without permission was strictly forbidden.
This was a red line no one dared to cross, and the academy enforced it without exception. The rooms were considered absolute safe havens for every student. As long as a student remained inside their room, they were safe. There were no ifs, ands, or buts about this matter.
Four days passed in the blink of an eye, and nothing particularly eventful happened during this time.
Athar's routine remained the same. He attended his theory class in the morning, sparred with Ryler in the afternoon, joined Sankul's practical class in the evening, and then absorbed a beast core at night before going to sleep. This was the steady pattern of his daily life.
However, there was one thing Athar did far more of. He had started to observe his surroundings closely. During his free time in the afternoons, apart from sparring with Ryler, he would continuously observe the other students as they trained or sparred. Athar paid special attention to the E Rank spars.
During these four days, Athar had reached a solid conclusion. His assumption that he was a genius was entirely correct. After watching the E Rank students train, he was certain that, with careful planning and the element of surprise, he could defeat an E Rank opponent. This realization gave his confidence a significant boost.
The other part of his observational quest centred around Trux. Whether in the dining hall, after classes, or in the training area, Athar made it a point to observe Trux as much as possible.
He carefully tried to identify patterns in Trux's behaviour. He tried to place a pattern from the exact moment he arrived in the dining hall to the places he frequented in the academy. Athar observed everything.
Fortunately for Athar, Trux followed a highly predictable routine. An uniform behavioural pattern.
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It was late at night, and Trux had just finished his dinner. He was moving under the dim, flickering glow of the mana crystals powered lamps scattered across the hallway.
There was a particular routine Trux followed every evening after dinner.
Without fail, he would head up to the top floor of D Block to spend some time alone, enjoying the night view of the city illuminated in the multicoloured lights of the mana lamps. This had become something of a personal ritual for him.
He had climbed the fourth floor and was making his way toward the fifth floor. Since students rarely visited that floor, the staircase was shrouded in complete darkness, with no lamps to illuminate the way.
The faint, flickering light from the corridors of the fourth floor barely reached the steps, leaving much of the stairwell in darkness.
Trux had just placed his foot on the large step midway up the staircase, right at the point where the stairs curved in a one-hundred-eighty-degree bend, when he heard a sudden rustling noise.
His eyes snapped forward, instinctively trying to locate the source, but it was already too late. A dark silhouette loomed over him, its form blurred by the dim light. It was holding a thick, metallic rod in its hands.
Before Trux could even lift his hands in defence, the rod came crashing down, striking him squarely on the side of his face near his ear. A sharp, sickening crack rang out as the blow connected with Trux's skull.
Trux's head reeled from the impact, and he was violently flung against the wall. Warm liquid began to trickle down his face. It was his own blood, oozing from the fresh and the brutal wound. Before Trux could even utter a sound, a wave of darkness swept over him, and his body crumpled onto the stairs. He was unconscious and motionless.
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