Chương 62: Chapter 58

The day carried on with each Lance getting a thorough appraisal and the cohort providing positive and negative feedback. Shaya watched each memory play back with growing fascination with Cellica's abilities, taking furious notes on other people's abilities and styles.

Most of the other Lances were generally unimpressive: perhaps capable independently, but their lack of experience showed in how they hesitated in combat or how quickly most of the students lost the ability to draw in their aether as emotions ran rampant. Apricot in particular earned enormous praise from the majority of the room, having intervened no fewer than five times across the operation and seeing more combat than most other Lances.

By joining Shaya's Lance as Bri's replacement for the final thrust of the operation, Apricot herself might have seen more combat than any of them. Shaya looked down at her small, frail-looking friend with new respect. Una's Lance was dog-piled, their heroic last stand not slated for any annals in history.

The worst of the derision came from Azreon's followers, who derided Una in particular: her poor ability to command troops, her unwillingness to call for help, her decision to ignore suggestions from the rest of her Lance, and more. The short, scrappy woman's eyes narrowed as the barrage continued, but she contained her fury. Shaya paused to take notes on those whose devotion to Azreon still seemed fanatical despite the facts revealed today and his apparent lies regarding how the final battle resolved.

Shaya almost felt bad for Una as the negative comments were heaped upon her, but she couldn't disagree with them. Una's arrogance had nearly cost her team their lives. Though the memory showed that most of them were on board with not calling in reinforcements until it was too late, the decision—and responsibility—ultimately fell to Una to summon reinforcements when she thought it necessary, and most sane people would have done so almost immediately given how overwhelming the enemy force that ambushed them was.

"Has no one anything kind to say to Una or her unit?" Zaal asked, scanning the room. Shaya raised her hand, speaking after a nod from Zaal.

"Una failed her unit and nearly got them all killed," she said without mercy, "but, unlike others in this room, she seems to have accepted responsibility for her actions and wants to learn from them." Zaal nodded at her.

"Well said. Most of you did poorly or had moments of poor decision making that could have cost people their lives, but the important thing is that you learn from these mistakes and continue to grow. Knowledge is not power," he continued, raising a thin finger, "it is potential power—it only becomes power if you apply it and use it." Shaya's ears burned as Una's glare bored into the back of her head.

"Azreon," Cellica said, looking to him, "do I have your permission to play your memories?"

"No," he replied, "it's clear there is a flaw in the replaying of these memories—or tampering by the caster." Cellica turned to Zaal, who shrugged and said, "This is impossible, but feedback can be provided based on the operational playback and Shaya's memories then. Begin." Azreon's sycophants provided praise for his singular combat skills and bravery, and the speed with which he made it to the centre. On the opposite side, students criticized his self-centred combat style.

No one went so far as to accuse him of what he had actually done. Article 92 outlines that dereliction of duty through neglect or culpable inefficiency is punishable by three months of suspension. For directly disobeying orders to help a comrade in need, the maximum punishment is upwards of dishonourable discharge and confinement for two years—even for students in the Academy. Shaya raised her hand.

She had been waiting for this moment, dreading the need to do what she felt was right and paint a target on herself while doing so. Zaal's eyes met hers, then he ignored her hand. Article 128 deems that simple assault is punishable by three months of suspension. Good luck pushing that up to assault with a dangerous weapon, since I'm not the one who escalated to that immediately—or didn't end the fight when it was within my power to do so easily.

Given the circumstances, there's a chance that I can get off without issue even. Zaal continued ignoring her hand, but Bari's eyes met hers. They conveyed the same message as Zaal's: Drop it. No, she mused, Zaal's not one to let things go. He… told me to trust him, is this what he meant? She hesitated, raised hand faltering. I have other plans to bring him down if Zaal doesn't follow through here… safer plans too. I'm still vulnerable if Azreon pursues charges against me though.

"Yes, Azreon?" Zaal asked.

"You have feedback for yourself and your Lance?"

"No," Azreon replied, wearing his polite mask, "but I see Shaya has some for us, and, as I respect her opinion, I would love to hear what she has to say." Titan spit! Just when I was about to drop—no wait, I can use this.

"Very well," Zaal said, turning to her with a hint of warning in his eyes.

"Shaya, what is it that you would like to say to your classmates?" This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Shaya took a deep breath, centring her mind and putting on a mask of her own.

"I think the main feedback everyone has missed," Shaya began, keeping the disgust off her face, "is that Azreon's combat ability is without peer in this cohort, and his Lancemates are not far behind. While we may criticize them for acting independently, the fact is that they performed admirably even so."

"That is very kind of you to say, and even astute," Zaal replied.

"There is much to be said for raw power. Did you have anything else to add?"

"May I address Azreon directly, Professor?" He rolled his eyes.

"If you wish." Shaya stood from her seat and turned to face Azreon directly.

"Azreon, I wish to apologize for my words and actions. Losing ourselves to our anger in the heat of combat is a flaw of my people, and one which I'm deeply ashamed of. I hope that you can forgive me and that we can continue to work together." She bowed to him respectfully, feeling disgusted at her words and actions. Azreon's followers chuckled and whispered about barbarians knowing their place, but Shaya maintained her composure and kept up her apologetic mask.

She had never been more thankful for the time spent running cons on people in The Blight. Azreon worked it over in his mind, suspicion high. Take the bait, you bastard, Shaya willed, I know how much you like to look magnanimous in public to conceal your sadism.

"Your humility humbles me," Azreon replied after a few tense seconds, his tone melodramatic as she expected—and hoped.

"Of course I accept your apology, and hope that you would forgive my anger as well. Seeing my dear friends wounded in combat, my emotions were also caught up in the zeal of slaying the Empire's enemies." Hook, line, and sinker—you predictable son of a spawn. That won't get me completely out of trouble, but it'll certainly help mitigate it.

"I understand," she replied, straightening with an honest smile.

"Of course I can forgive your anger." His eyes narrowed on her, but she turned and sat back down.

"Well," Zaal smiled, "let us conclude the feedback on that warm note of camaraderie and friendship, and move onto our final words." Cellica dismissed the illusions with thanks from Zaal as he stepped to the front of the stage.

"Feedback was given in order based on highest marks granted," he said, shocking the auditorium, "and to the victors go the spoils. The members of the top three Lances led by Shaya, Apricot, and Yllaneth will each get to pick one monster part from those collected from the expedition. The rest will be sold to the Academy and the proceeds divided amongst the cohort equally." Shock turned to surprise, and more than a few of the students cried out in joy at the news.

No small number of spawn were slain, and if any parts of the Titan were left over those would sell for an enormous amount given their thaumaturgical uses. Even divided across sixty people, the reward would make for a nice night out on the town.

"But as we reward those who did well, so too must we punish those who acted against the standards passed down to us by the heroes who forged our Empire," Zaal said, driving the cohort back to silence.

"Azreon Solarix—the committee has deemed you guilty of two counts of dereliction of duty, one of which could result in your dishonourable discharge from the Imperial Army and the Academy, as well as the potential of two years of imprisonment." Azreon shot out of his seat, fury etched into his face.

"Do you know who my father is?! He—""Yes, boy," Zaal rasped over the noble's tantrum, "I spend more time with him than you do. Basillo, take him into custody." The big man flinched at the command, displeased that the responsibility would be thrust unto him. His mouth opened to protest, but one look from Zaal silenced him.

"What about her?" Azreon jabbed a finger at Shaya.

"She assaulted me!"

"A crime which you forgave her for," Zaal said, an honest, infuriating smile on his face now, "but one which the institution cannot forgive entirely." Azreon's eyes bulged, head snapping to her with a glare. Shaya was too busy bracing for the incoming verdict to enjoy his expression just then.

"Despite your capable leadership and good deeds as a novice warrior," Zaal continued, turning to Shaya, "we cannot ignore that you lost control of yourself and put your comrades at risk, even attacking one of them. Though he has forgiven your actions, you must still pay some price and we shall make that literal. You have hereby lost your stipend for the rest of this semester and forfeit your share of the spoils for this expedition." The money-grubbing part of Shaya screamed at the lost income.

But she knew she got off easy. And experiencing the look on Azreon's face as his pet professor escorted him out of the auditorium was absolutely, positively priceless. The chancellor approached Shaya as she and her friends were getting ready to leave the auditorium to rest, recuperate, and, most importantly, celebrate.

"Shaya, a moment of your time, if you would."

"Of course, Chancellor," Shaya said, following him a short distance away and looking back at her friends in surprise when she realized she couldn't hear them anymore.

"While Azurite magic is known best for stealth subterfuge"—Zaal's face twisted into a facsimile of a smile, apparently unused to the display—"Sapphire's control over movement can interfere with the travel of sound well enough for our needs."

"Did you wish to talk about my previous encounter with this type of magic?"

"No, actually," he said, reaching into one of his outer robes and withdrawing something, "I feel you have earned this." Shaya's eyes widened on the bronze badge he held before her, sporting Rubycyte, Ambercyte, and Jadecyte gems.

"But my Circle test isn't until next week!"

"That won't be necessary anymore," Zaal rasped.

"I can assure you that I'm a qualified examiner, and I sensed power befitting a Second Circle mage from you through yesterday's events."

"Thank you," she managed, taking the amulet from him and staring at it.

"Why hand this to me personally?"

"Ever one to question, I see." Zaal's mouth quirked into a smile again.

"Let's just say that you have exceeded my expectations, and that is rare enough that I take notice. Do not overthink it, at least not today." He dismissed her with a wave.

"Go on, go celebrate with your friends and comrades." Zaal dismissed the sound-damping spell before she could reply, so she simply gave him a nod before he vanished with another teleportation spell. Left alone, Shaya looked down at her bronze badge—the symbol of all the progress she had hoped to achieve—held in her hands.

"I hope I've made you proud," she prayed to her lost mothers, raising the amulet over her head and placing it on her neck. With a quick tug, she pulled her old copper badge off and dropped it in a pocket. She would do her best to make sure she didn't forget her roots and the hard work it took to get to the Second Circle, or the work that would be needed to achieve all her other goals.

Thoughts of apostate-backed conspiracies, fears of an early resurgence of the Titans, and political backlash clawed at her mind, but for the rest of that day, all she planned to do was relax and celebrate with her new friends.