Professor Anlor let the murmurs build for exactly three seconds as if rehearsed.
Then his voice cut through the room.
"Enough."
The sound snapped every conversation shut.
"Now that we have removed some of your more enthusiastic ideas about heroism, shall we begin the lesson?"
The projection shifted again.
For the next stretch of class, Professor Anlor taught us with undeniable skill.
Which was very irritating as it was impressive.
He explained everything clearly, from how Aethren hunting patterns differed by body structure and Aether behaviour, to how quadrupedal Aethren often used feints before committing to direct movement. Hollowing types affected ground-Aether and shaped it ahead of their bodies, meaning a sensitive mage could detect them before they could. Winged types rarely attacked from directly above unless injured or starving, preferring diverging angles that forced their prey to expose their backs. Pack-oriented Aethren loved to test formation weaknesses rather than an individual's strength, as if their pride took precedence over anything else.
He spoke about the importance of scent, territory and heat signatures. How some beasts don't hunt prey but hunt spell output.
That part caught my attention.
"An inexperienced mage," Anlor said, "often believes that simply casting more will keep them alive. However, against certain Aethren, excessive casting is no different than bleeding in deep water. You are not defending yourself. You're serving yourself on a platter."
Several students looked deeply uncomfortable.
I wrote all that information down.
Taron noticed.
"Don't fancy being a beast's dinner?" he whispered.
"No. Not particularly."
"Ambitious."
"Optimistic."
Professor Anlor continued.
"If a dangerous Aethren appears before you, you have three immediate options. First, identify whether it has seen you and if you can get to cover. Second, identify whether it is hungry, territorial, injured, or provoked. Third, identify whether your Aether signature makes you more interesting than your body."
He paused.
"If the answer to the third is yes... pray you are fast or accept your fate."
That was somewhat useful.
Ominous.
But useful.
For several minutes, I almost forgot that I was supposed to dislike him.
Then Professor Anlor's eyes found me.
It was not by accident.
His gaze passed across the room once, twice, then settled directly on me with a faint brightening of interest that did not reach his smile.
I felt Taron shuffle beside me.
Professor Anlor's mouth curved.
And not with a warm look.
"You," he said.
The room stilled.
"The student in the back next to the heir of Caelvarin."
A few heads turned.
Mine included, though slower than most.
He picked me.
Of course he would pick me.
Choosing to fight the vexation, I responded hesitantly.
"Yes, Professor?" I said.
Anlor folded his hands behind his back.
"Since you appear rather attentive, perhaps you can answer a question for the class."
The way he said attentive made it sound like an accusation rather than a compliment.
"Could you... explain the behavioural distinction between an Aethren displaying predatory Aether resonance and one displaying defensive territory-latching, particularly in cases where both produce increased output through dorsal pathway activation."
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Even most of the nobles around me looked confused.
I understood pieces of the question. Thanks to the Codex.
But the answer he wanted was clearly not simple. The distinction he asked for sounded less like a first lesson question and more like something from a specialised field manual written by someone with too much funding and no social obligations.
"I don't know," I said.
Anlor's smile deepened.
"No?"
"No, Professor."
"Well... that is unfortunate."
The room tightened.
"For a student currently attracting such unusual attention, I had expected better preparation."
And there it was.
Not subtle in the slightest.
A visible provocation for everyone to see. For me to specifically hear.
Interestingly, Taron's expression changed beside me.
Professor Anlor continued; his tone was smooth. "I want to remind everyone that this elective will not reward reputation, anomalies, or convenient coincidences. Any Aethren you potentially face will not pause to consider whether the faculty find you interesting."
A few students whispered.
I could feel a level of heat rise faintly in my chest, despite no flame being formed.
I did my best to keep the expression on my face placid.
Taron leaned forward slightly.
"Surely you jest, Professor."
Professor Anlor's eyes moved to him.
The room seemed to inhale.
Taron smiled, but there was an increased sharpness to it now.
"How could a first-year student possibly know the answer to a question of that nature on the first day of the elective?"
Professor Anlor looked irritated for a fraction.
Only a fraction.
Then the change in his expression vanished.
And I knew why.
Taron was not me.
Taron was not a commoner from the Basin.
Taron was an heir of House Caelvarin, sitting beside me in full view of everyone.
Professor Anlor inclined his head.
"Hm. Perhaps you are right, Lord Caelvarin."
Taron's smile stayed exactly where it was.
Professor Anlor looked back at me.
"Then let us make this... hmmm... yes, yes, let us make this an educational challenge."
That sounded dire.
"If your friend believes that the question presented to him was beyond first-year expectation, then we shall test the matter differently."
'Oh? This sounds fun.'
"Student," Professor Anlor said, still choosing not to use my name. "I will ask you a series of 'foundational' questions from the introductory book of Anti-Beast Tactics. If you answer all of them correctly, I will assign no additional written work to this class for the next week."
The room started to veer in excitement.
Interest sparked instantly.
Then Professor Anlor's smile aciculated.
"However! If you answer even one incorrectly, everyone here will complete double practical-preparation reports until the end of term."
The entire room reacted at once.
Groans in sync with each other.
Whispers beginning to gather.
Several students turned to look at me with expressions ranging from panic to resentment to sudden hatred.
A noble girl near the front muttered, "That's ridiculous."
A commoner two rows below me looked like he wanted to vanish into his chair, saying, "Why are we leaving something important like this to someone like him."
Taron's jaw tightened.
"Professor, is all of this really necessary?" he said.
"Oh, indeed it is, Lord Caelvarin," Professor Anlor replied smoothly. "Boring fieldwork often punishes the masses for the failure of the few. Consider it an early lesson for adulthood."
I stared at him.
There was no doubt now.
Professor Anlor was specifically targeting me.
And I could tell why.
Darius. Freaking. Renora
But this was even worse than what Darius had done the other night. His was some form of pathetic bullying or intimidation tactic.
But Professor Anlor... he could call it instruction. Pressure. Preparation, or even a lesson. He could make the entire class resent me while pretending I had been given an opportunity.
A professor had no reason to expect a student beginning an elective to already know every answer.
Which meant this was not about teaching.
It was about public humiliation.
About me failing to meet others' expectations, perhaps Professor Orin's.
I could feel Taron sideways glancing at me.
I could almost hear what he wanted to say.
'Don't take the bait, Kael. I'm sure that's what he wants to say.'
That would have been the reasonably safe option.
Decline. Force Professor Anlor to look a tad too excessive for a supposed teacher, and let the class remember that he had made an absurd demand.
But then I felt another presence in my mind.
It was cold, calculating, precise, and sometimes deeply inconvenient.
[ANTI-BEAST TACTICS QUERY POTENTIAL DETECTED]
[KNOWLEDGE BASE: PARTIAL]
[REAL-TIME ANALYSIS: AVAILABLE]
[PROBABILITY OF SUCCESS: DEPENDENT ON QUESTION COMPLEXITY]
My annoyance had started to withdraw.
Slowly.
But make no mistake, not completely.
But enough that it enabled me to think.
The Codex didn't know everything.
It had made that clear often enough.
But it could analyse structure. Behaviour. Aether patterns. Biology. It could infer. It could assemble pieces of information faster than I could consciously process them.
Professor Anlor wanted me isolated.
He wanted me to become uncertain.
He wanted me to carry the anger of the room before the island exam even began.
Unfortunately for him, I was beginning to understand that sometimes the best way to handle a rigged problem was not to refuse playing the game.
It was to change the rules.
I met the eyes of Professor Anlor, and greeted him with a defiant smile.
It was a bit too similar to Taron's for my liking.
It was probably too small for most of the room to notice.
But Taron noticed.
His eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering across his face.
Professor Anlor noticed too.
His smile had thinned.
I leaned back in my seat, exhaustion still pressing behind my eyes, heat still lingering faintly in my pathways from the previous night, and looked directly at him.
"Ok. I accept."