Biron was able to exit the dungeon successfully as a team. He was excited, his creature had finally evolved after the third run. Everyone was glad for him, even Mirelia, who had begun to come out of her shell.

She might not have been accepted by her family, but she was doing fine in this course. Her creature was just as useful as Biron had expected, and she was now constantly praised.

Training was good, classes were slow. Honestly, after joining as a cadet, Biron felt he had finally found his calling.

Being with a close team, friends he could rely on even today, he was going out to eat with the gang.

Paul, who had spent weeks trying to get closer to Mirelia, had finally accepted that she wasn't going to budge and that it was probably because of Biron.

She wasn't in love with the boy, but Paul could see the distance between them closing by the day.

His water snake had improved, and he had been hoping to one-up Biron with his creature.

But only a few minutes later that same day, Biron's own Torch had also evolved, snatching away the moment Paul had been aiming for.

As for Max and Warren, they had kept pace with the rest of the group. Max's stone golem had gained heavier armor plates, making him the team's wall, while Warren's mud-wielding crocodile now moved faster and hit harder. Yuri's fox had gained a second tail, its shadow bolts striking faster than before.

They were a good team balanced, reliable and for the first time in years, Biron felt not only the warmth of a balanced family and friends but also that he could handle anything the academy threw at him.

They usually ate at a diner not far from the school, one that was practically sponsored by the academy a way for students to stick together even after hours and keep building friendships.

Today the smell of spiced, well-done meat and fresh bread drifted from the kitchen, making Warren's stomach growl loud enough for Max to hear.

"Relax, man. I know we worked our butts off all day, but wait a little longer…" Max said, leaning back in his chair beside him and patting his back.

"I know it isn't you talking," Warren shot back, "your golem's way of eating was the reason we arrived so late." He set his forehead on the table in defeat.

"Talking bad about the tank is the worst thing you can do," Max warned with a smirk. "Remember, I can just ignore you next time one of those bulls on the third floor starts stomping your croc."

Paul returned from the bathroom and patted both of their backs. "I could hear you from the stall. You're both going to get us in trouble. You know Williams has a report system, and you're still in your cadet uniforms, so hush a bit."

Yuri, who didn't have to wait for her food since the staff loved her enough to always have her favorite pie ready, tried to hold back her laugh.

As for Biron and Mirelia, they were watching from the side, each relaxing with a cup of tea that Mirelia had recommended to him.

"You gotta love that they let us bring our monsters here," Biron muttered, passing Torch a core he had saved up so it wouldn't go hungry.

"Yes. My Budling really likes to be out and about…" Mirelia glanced down to her side, where her creature was busy looking around while absorbing its own share of cores.

They ordered simple plates of roast chicken for Mirelia, and a thick, lean meat stew for the boys. Both came with warm bread, spiced to perfection.

During their meal, it wasn't unusual for instructors, whether from the academy or the cadet program, to pass by the diner or even sit down to eat there as well. If not them, then younger officers would often stop in, filling the place with familiar faces from the training grounds.

It was in the middle of that noise when one of them stepped inside. His red-trimmed coat and the silver badge at his chest were enough to make conversations drop around the room.

He scanned the tables, eyes locking on various groups of cadets until he met those at Biron's table.

"Group units 8, 14, 23, 34, and 37, you will be exempted from the academy for the next two weeks. You are to be dispatched to assist in the liberation of Molowisk."

Molowisk.

The name alone made the air in the diner freeze as everyone recalled the rumors of the great creature that had taken residence there.

Biron glanced at the others, his smile fading.

"Each group, assign a member to sign these sheets to receive your written orders."

Paul, the oldest, got up slowly and approached the officer. He quickly signed the letter and returned to his seat. Everyone could see his hands were trembling, and that was when he hadn't even opened the letter yet.

As soon as the officer saluted and took his leave, noise began to return to the diner. But the groups that had been called still sat in tense silence, waiting for someone to break it.

Contrary to what everyone expected, Max was the one who picked up his knife and tore the paper open. Ignoring the wax seal, he cut the side of it and began reading.

Biron and the rest sat quietly, waiting for his opinion. They could tell by his expression that it wasn't going to be simple or even any good.

The entire diner seemed to pause with them, everyone waiting for his words.

"We're mainly there to accompany the main army," Max said finally. "Baggage carriers, to pad the numbers so the kingdom can meet its quota…"

He stopped there, unwilling to badmouth the king in public.

Biron took the paper from him and read through it himself.

Just as Max had said, they were support meant to carry supplies, tend to the wounded if needed, and guard the rear lines to ensure the supply lines were maintained.

But one line near the bottom made his stomach tighten.

Units assigned will operate within contested territory under the command of General Rynhart until full control of Molowisk is secured.

He could clearly remember the rumors from earlier weeks: the silver dragon, the illusions, the soldiers who fell asleep before they died.

It wasn't just a rumor anymore; they were going to march toward it.

He passed the paper around, and within a few minutes, everyone wore the same expression.

Mirelia's eyes were fixed on the table, her lips pressed into a thin line. Warren stared at the paper like it might change if he glared hard enough.

Even Paul, who normally jumped at the idea of proving himself, didn't say a word.

Biron finally picked up the letter and folded it.

"Let's eat for now. We have at least a week to get ready, and another to move out. I'm sure they didn't add us with the intention of fighting; it might just be to earn a merit for being part of the army, right?"

No one argued or replied. They simply nodded and began eating again. It wasn't long before the group went their separate ways.

It was only when he was alone with Mirelia that she finally spoke up.

"You know the reason why we were chosen, right?"

Mirelia's voice was low, as if forcing the words out.

"Your family, right…"

Biron didn't want to answer, but there was no denying it. They were the only group of first-years being taken. Even Selka's group, which was eating nearby and seemed just as capable, hadn't been picked.

"Is it because they want me dead… or because they expect me to bring them honor?"

She tried her best to hold back her tears, but Biron could see she wouldn't be able to for long. He began to gently pat her back.

"Relax. I'm sure either way, if you bring honor, they'll see you as an important asset they should have kept. Just wait. I'll do my best so you get that chance. This will be easy. We won't even enter the fight. And if we do, we'll simply run. There'll be thousands from each nation trying to get the dragon; they won't care if a few cadets retreat, right?"

Whether it was the slow, steady pats on her back or the cold wind brushing her face, Mirelia finally stopped crying.

"I guess we'll see each other earlier tomorrow… I still have to tell my parents the news. They'll probably chew me out for joining the cadets," she said with a faint, tired smile.

"But I'm with you either way, Mirelia. Let's get you back on track with your family."

Biron soon waved to the girl as she walked toward her dorm. Then he turned and made his way home, where his family was gathered in the living room.

Wendy looked up first, her knitting paused in her hands. "You're back late. Long day?"

"Yeah," Biron said, slipping off his coat and hanging it by the door. "We… got new orders."

Harris set down the book he'd been reading with a puzzled expression. "Orders?"

Biron hesitated, then smiled faintly. "It's just support work. Two weeks with the army. Nothing dangerous."

Harris began to recall the day's rumors, his face trying to remain composed.

Terry perked up from the couch. "Does that mean you'll get to see a real battle?"

"Hopefully not," Biron replied, ruffling his younger brother's hair as he passed by.

Wendy gave him that look, half-worried, but with the quiet understanding that Biron was keeping the details from his siblings.

"Just come back safe."

"I will," he promised, settling into the armchair.

For a while, they didn't talk about the orders, the north, or the dragon. They simply sat together, sharing the quiet warmth of a great family moment—and for that night, it was all Biron wanted.

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