This was it—the day Reed would finally meet the other squad leaders and learn who had been assigned to his squad.
In the past month, Reed had changed—not just physically, but mentally as well. The rigorous training he'd undergone had reshaped him into someone sharper, stronger, and more disciplined. He had been taught small-unit warfare tactics, everything from ambush formations to battlefield positioning. He'd learned how to identify edible plants, skin small game, start fires without flint, and even how to preserve meat using salt and sunlight. He could now clean a fish with a flick of a dagger and start a smokeless fire in under five minutes.
Weapon training had become a daily ritual, and he'd developed a surprising affinity for short blades. Daggers felt like an extension of his own instincts—quick, subtle, and precise. He wasn't the best swordsman by any means, but when it came to close-quarters movement, he had a dangerous fluidity to him. His shadows responded faster now, more naturally, as if his mind and body were finally syncing with the strange energy that had chosen him.
The changes weren't only in his skillset. He'd grown in size too, stacking on about twenty pounds of lean muscle and gaining a couple of inches in height. His clothes fit a little tighter, and his shoulders no longer slouched. Whether it was from the physical training or his own shadow-imbued constitution, he didn't know—but he welcomed it.
Today, all that preparation would come to bear.
The professors were revealing who had accepted the mission, who would be leading the expedition teams, and who would be brave—or foolish—enough to step through the gateway.
The meeting was to be held in a modest, open field near the east wing of the academy. Tucked far away from the central courtyards and general student population, the area was lined with trimmed hedges and a circle of stone benches. Unlike the more polished parts of the campus, the field had a rugged quality to it—dirt paths, training dummies, and a few scorched targets for spell practice.
Reed was the first to arrive, his boots crunching against gravel as he approached with Professor Harlen by his side.
"You ready, Reed?" Harlen asked, his usual gruff voice tinged with something warmer. "To meet the people you're going to be spending the next month with?"
"Couldn't be more excited, sir," Reed replied, managing a half-grin.
That was a lie, of course.
He was a nervous wreck.
Was his uniform clean enough? Were his teeth brushed well enough? Would the others respect him? Would they trust someone who had no mana core?
He barely had time to spiral further when the first pair arrived.
A tall boy with an athletic frame and piercing green eyes walked into the field with a woman Reed recognized from the training wing—Professor Treesha. The boy's hair was bright gold, like spun sunlight, and he wore his uniform a little loose, as if unaware of how well it actually suited him.
"That's Hare," Harlen whispered, folding his arms. "The one with the internal core."
Reed had heard of him. Hare was something of a mystery—someone who could generate mana endlessly from within, albeit at a slower pace. A freshman like Reed, but with a gift people hadn't seen in decades. Apparently brilliant in theoretical magic but less impressive when it came to physical combat.
Next came a girl, smaller than the others, with skin the color of rich earth and long, coiled black hair that framed her sharp face. Her eyes were pitch black, deep and unreadable. She walked with a quiet confidence that made Reed straighten up on instinct.
"That's the nature mage," Harlen muttered, gesturing toward her squat, bald professor. "Senior. Damn strong. Don't underestimate her because of the size."
Reed nodded. If anything, he was learning quickly that power came in many forms.
The third person to arrive was impossible to miss.
He was massive—easily six foot seven, built like a stone wall, with arms that looked like they could bench-press boulders. This had to be Yanis, the one Harlen had warned him about. Not a spellcaster, apparently, but a terrifying brawler with near-perfect instincts in a fight.
"His professor's probably chasing after him," Harlen joked. "Can't keep up."
Yanis gave Reed a look—a blank expression, neither friendly nor hostile. A measuring stare. Reed gave a short nod. Yanis nodded back.
The fourth to arrive was a girl with light, almost porcelain skin, and a blonde ponytail that swayed with every step. She looked quick, like a spring about to snap, and carried herself with the elegance of someone used to handling magic.
"That's Juni," Harlen added. "Sophomore. Water mage, I think. Calm under pressure. Solid pick."
Reed was reminded of Marek for a moment and wondered what his friend was up to now. Probably charming someone over lunch.
And finally, came the last of the leaders—a girl Reed recognized instantly.
Cath.
The golden light from the Blessing Ceremony. The same girl who'd stood beside him when everything in his life had changed.
She looked… better. Stronger. Her hair was longer now, pulled back into a neat braid, and her uniform looked freshly pressed, the golden trim matching the faint shimmer in her eyes. She wasn't looking his way, but Reed couldn't help but stare for a second longer than he meant to.
"She looks like she's been doing alright," he muttered to himself, before quickly adding, "Her hair looks nice…"
"You say something?" Harlen asked, raising a brow.
"Nope."
With all the squad leaders now present—save for Yanis's missing professor—the rest of the students began to arrive. Dozens of them, filtering in from a narrow dirt path on the side of the field, forming into neat lines as instructed. They wore similar uniforms, though a few already looked more battle-worn than others.
At first, Reed thought the murmurs were normal—curiosity about the gathering of leaders.
But then he realized they weren't looking at all the leaders.
They were looking at him.
The whispers were sharper now, tinged with something cold. Disdain. Doubt.
"That's the shadow boy, right?"
"The one with no mana?"
"I heard he passed out during his Blessing."
"Why is he even here?"
Reed felt every word like a knife scraping his skin. But he didn't flinch. He didn't look away. Instead, he squared his shoulders and stared straight ahead.
'I'll show them,' he thought. 'I'll show them all. They haven't seen anything yet.'
And then, as if on cue, Professor Treesha stepped forward, clapping her hands once.
"Leaders, step forward."
The six of them did, forming a line at the front of the field. The murmuring died down, replaced by silence and tension.
"Today, you meet those who will march beside you," she said. "And you begin the practice of commanding others—not just in voice, but in action, example, and trust."
The other professors stepped forward, each beginning to read out the names of students assigned to their squads. Reed tuned it out for now, focusing on the feel of his heartbeat and the ever-present hum of his shadow domain just beneath his skin.
This was the beginning.