Sam – POV

  Honestly, I should’ve expected it.

  With the amount of noise we made—gunshots, blood, screaming, and let’s not forget Lilith beating a grown man unconscious with his own leg—yeah, guards were bound to show up quick. But the Inquisition? Them showing up first? That was a surprise.

  They worked fast. Real fast. Like, under-five-minutes-and-they're-in-your-apartment fast.

  Still, I was proud of Lilith. She’d been through hell, but she held it together like a damn pro. And since she was the first to draw blood on Shorty, the double barrel was hers to keep. That’s just how my rules work. First blood gets the trophy.

  The apartment, though? Total war zone. Blood stains, broken furniture, chunks of cultist. Looked like a butcher shop run by someone with a grudge.

  Luckily, the Inquisition handled everything. First came a cleaning team—quiet, professional, creepy efficient. Then a relocation team showed up to move Lilith’s stuff. She was now officially listed as Cult-targeted, which meant she got an all-expenses-paid trip to somewhere safer than this fifth-floor murder suite.

  The funny part? The body removal team pulled in at the same time as the city guard.

  Except the guards took one look at the sigils on the inquisitorial uniforms, decided they didn’t get paid enough, and noped the hell out. I watched them leave without even filing a report. Smart men.

  I offered to help interrogate the guy. Thought it’d be fun. At first, the Inquisitor looked at me like I was insane—which, fair. But then I explained my plan.

  He listened.

  He blinked.

  Then he laughed. Loud, ugly, honest-to-God belly laughter.

  “Do it,” he said, still chuckling. “If this works, I’ll buy you a beer.”

  "Honestly, I’d settle for an Inquisition trench coat and a better brand of coffee."

  Their uniforms had that unmistakable look—don’t mess with me. Surprisingly, the inquisitor actually handed me one when I said that. It was a bit large at first, but after a while, I felt it tug at my mind, as if the coat itself was adjusting, pulling and shaping to fit my body. It was like an expert craftsman working his magic, molding the fabric to my frame.

  Spoiler: it did work.

  So now he owes me a beer. And maybe a medal.

  By noon, Lilith and I were on a cart, heading toward her friend’s place. But my heart sank when I saw who it was.

  The friend—Lilith’s long-time friend—was Hope.

  She was awake.

  She was in a wheelchair.

  Seeing her, I felt a million things at once. Joy that she was alive. Guilt for not being fast enough to stop what happened. Relief. Surprise. And then confusion as I watched the two girls hug and start chattering at a speed that made my brain lag behind. In the end, I didn’t say much. I just hoped my smile said enough.

  “Hi,” I said sheepishly, not knowing what else to say. “I’m sorry I was late.”

  Hope flashed a mischievous smile. “Well, well, look who it is.”

  Then her expression softened. “Don’t. It’s okay, Sam. I’m alive because of you. I might’ve lost a leg and ended up in a wheelchair for a while… but you lost an arm. And unlike me, you don’t have mana to attune to, so there’s not much that can be done. You’ve done enough, Sam. Really. Thank you.”

  I looked up at the sky, feeling the words settle somewhere deep in my chest—then doubled over when Lilith punched me in the gut.

  “Hey! Are you underestimating one of the most promising engineers on the continent?” she barked, pointing at me like I was a broken clock she was about to fix. “Give me a few years to figure this shit out, and you’ll be good as new!”

  She clapped her hands. “I’ve got ideas. Like, cool ideas. A blade inside the arm. Maybe a gun. Ooh, or a clock! Or a—”

  “How about we move inside?” Hope interrupted with a chuckle. “Let’s have dinner first.”

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  Hope was staying at a nearby sister house. Like everything else in this city, the building looked more like an art gallery than anything functional—so big it’d be easy to get lost in.

  Her apartment, though, was simple. Sparse furniture. Four bedrooms. Quiet. Clean. Peaceful.

  Somehow, that felt like the most luxurious part of it all.

  The two girls spent some time catching up. I made sure Shorty was properly reloaded before taking my leave to head to the school. After all, the Inquisition was looking after them, and for now, they seemed to be on our side.

  When I arrived at the school and passed through identification, two security agents rushed at me, batons in hand. But the moment they spotted the coat, they stopped dead in their tracks. I could practically see the gears turning in their heads as they re-evaluated their life choices. After a quick, hushed conversation, they opted for a more diplomatic approach—only one escorted me to the Dean’s office.

  That coat was cozy as hell, and the authority it granted? Incredible. No more fumbling for letters of introduction; just the Inquisition’s mark on my back. It saved time, looked good, and came with the kind of backing that made people think twice. Honestly, I let the Inquisition brand me an ally for three reasons: style, backup, and influence. These guys were the top dogs—no doubt about it—and their reach stretched deep into the halls of power.

  So far, everything I’d seen from the Church had been shockingly positive. Which, considering the world I was stuck in, was almost suspicious—but I wasn’t complaining.

  Still, the Cult being so active that I, a complete nobody, had stumbled into their plans twice? That smelled bad. Real bad. If my gut was right, they were probably gearing up to summon an evil god, unleash a calamity, or kick off some apocalypse-level lunacy.

  As I neared Kladius’s office, the air grew heavy—like I’d stepped into a pressure chamber trying to crush my bones. The guard escorting me stopped fifty yards from the door, sweat pouring down his face.

  “Go. I’m watching you,” he muttered, voice tight with nerves. No doubt he felt the pressure too.

  I knocked and stepped in.

  Sitting at the desk was the Dean himself, Kladius—relaxed, calm, and wearing a radiant smile. Across from him stood a stunning elf woman, power radiating from her like heat from a forge. Her hair shimmered like spider silk, her sharp features set in a mask of fury. A regal dress of gold and violet clung to her frame, and her glare could have melted steel.

  “Don’t try to shoo me off, Klad. I’m not letting this go. We can’t have Elite class nobles—high nobles—getting attacked behind our walls. This reeks of Cult activity. We must investigate and report this immediately!”

  I cleared my throat gently.

  She turned toward me, irritation etched in every line of her face. But then her eyes landed on the coat draped over my shoulders like a cape.

  I gave a polite nod.

  “Apologies for the interruption. However, I believe I can clarify the events of last night. And I trust you'll find the circumstances justify my conduct.”

  The pressure I’d been feeling in the air vanished like a popped bubble. My shoulders lightened, and I could finally breathe without feeling like I was about to pass out.

  “Ah, Sam,” Claudius said warmly, “please allow me the honor of introducing you to the head teacher of the Elite class: the esteemed Miss Saphere Delfine, Grand Magus of the 7th Company of the 7th Paladin Order.”

  That title hit like a brick. Even I had heard of the 7th Company. They were the real deal—battle-hardened, deeply respected, and, according to rumor, completely terrifying.

  The Dean turned to her with that same smile. “My lady, this young man will also be your new student starting tomorrow. I trust you’ll take good care of him.”

  I swear I could see the gears grinding in her mind—so many questions, none she was quite bold enough to ask aloud. Not yet.

  “Pleasure, ma’am,” I said, keeping my voice level.

  “The pleasure’s mine,” she replied, cool and composed. “Though I’ll decide if you’ll truly be my student after I’ve heard your version of events.”

  “Of course,” I said with a small nod. “It just so happened that I found Mister Adamias engaged in behavior most unbecoming of a noble—forcing himself on a young woman. I took it upon myself to deliver a portion of his... penitence.”

  Her eyebrow twitched.

  “Unfortunately, most of his crimes remain unpunished. Should you see him, I’d urge you to report it to the proper authorities. And perhaps... keep an eye on him. That’s all I’m currently allowed to share.”

  She narrowed her eyes slightly, clearly unsatisfied—but not willing to push. I wasn’t just wearing a coat; I was carrying weight.

  “Further details,” I added, “are restricted to a need-to-know basis. I hope you understand.”

  Years of military life had taught me many things. One of my favorites? The art of saying absolutely nothing while sounding like I said everything. “Need-to-know” was a shield you could hide a tank behind.

  I saw the flicker of rage cross her face at the mention of that asshole’s behavior—but it wasn’t aimed at me. No, that fury had a different target entirely. Good. At least someone up here still had a soul.

  “Then, Sam,” she said, her voice crisp like a blade sliding from a sheath, “it will be my honor to teach you—to the best of my ability. Let’s hope you’re at least half as capable as some people seem to think you are.”

  Her eyes locked onto mine like a hawk spotting prey. “Training starts tomorrow. Six sharp. Arena. If you’re not there...” she let the silence hang just long enough for my spine to itch, “...I’ll show you exactly what the consequences of your actions look like. Am I understood?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I gave a small bow and a practiced smile. “I’ll leave you to your discussion. Please, have a great day.”

  Next, I headed back to my room for a change of clothes and a long-overdue bath. And let me tell you—that felt like magic. The men’s bath alone was the size of a couple of Olympic pools slapped together, all fed by natural hot springs. The whole place had this old-school gothic vibe, like someone ripped the Sistine Chapel off the map and plunked it into a spa.

  Arched ceilings, stained glass, and columns carved like they belonged in a cathedral—it was the kind of place that made you feel like a noble just for being naked in it. I soaked for two glorious hours, letting the heat melt away the last of the adrenaline, blood, and stress.

  Eventually, though, even paradise has to end. I dragged myself out, dried off, and finally gave in. Time to catch some Zs before tomorrow decided to try killing me again.