The whispers grew louder.
“Is he in the advanced class for Combat Conditioning too?”
“Looks like it. The instructors didn’t say anything, so he must belong here.”
“That’s insane. He just joined today…”
Malakai ignored every word.
His attention, instead, was grabbed by the absurd scene unfolding just beside him.
Just a few steps away, another youth was whispering, but it wasn’t to anyone.
It was to… his stomach.
“Just hold on a bit longer, alright?”
The boy whispered seriously, placing both hands gently over his midsection like he was consoling a wounded comrade.
“I swear, I’ll get you something after this. A real meal. Not air.”
His stomach grumbled loudly in response, earning a few glances from the surrounding students.
But the boy simply nodded solemnly, as if an agreement had been reached.
Malakai blinked. What the hell had he just witnessed?
Before he could look away, the boy suddenly turned toward him, catching Malakai’s stare and looking completely unbothered.
“You ever tried negotiating with your digestive system?”
The boy said casually.
“Works better than fighting it.”
Malakai just stared at him. He truly didn’t know how to respond.
Most youths in the clan couldn’t even hold a vein’s gaze, especially not Malakai’s, whose crimson eyes were even sharper and colder than most.
Yet this boy looked him dead in the eye without flinching.
Malakai shook his head and decided to ignore him, but the boy leaned in slightly, whispering:
“Hey, you seem to be well hated by everyone. They’re whispering… What did you do?”
Malakai turned to him again, baffled.
It wasn’t arrogance, nor was he trying to brag. But he was easily the most talked about person in the clan right now.
Yet somehow, this boy didn’t know who he was?
‘That explains why he’s speaking so freely.’
The disciplines were separated, and one could be advanced in Combat Conditioning yet lower in Blood Meditation and Vita Breathing.
Which meant the boy hadn’t witnessed his confrontation with Julius earlier because he hadn’t been in the class.
The boy scratched his head and grinned.
“Silent type, huh? If it helps… I’m not well liked either.”
As he laughed, his stomach suddenly grumbled again, louder this time.
The boy frowned, pressing both hands to his abdomen and muttering at it like a scolding parent:
“I thought we had a deal… I don’t have any food. I was too late and couldn’t pack anything. Just chill… alright?”
Malakai sighed quietly.
He pulled a ration bar from his jacket and tossed it over.
“Here.”
The boy caught it instantly, his eyes lighting up like he had been handed the sun itself.
“W-wow! I can have this? Thank you! No take backs!”
“Just be quiet.” Malakai responded.
But the boy didn’t seem to listen, he had already ripped open the ration and had started wolfing the whole thing down.
Malakai stared at him, incredulous. Had there always been beggars in the Sanguine clan?
Before he could continue his thoughts, a loud voice roared from the center of the field.
“Renlo! What the hell are you doing?! You were told never to eat during class!”
Renlo flinched violently, then shoved the last of the ration into his mouth before anyone could snatch it from him.
“S-sorry, Instructor! I-I was just trying to clean the wrapper!”
Malakai’s eye twitched slightly. He had never heard anything more absurd in his life.
The instructor’s face darkened.
“Throw that nonsense away and stand straight!”
“A-alright, Instructor!”
Renlo stammered, hastily stuffing the wrapper into his pocket instead of throwing it away, then snapping to a stiff posture.
Malakai’s gaze lingered on the absurd boy. He doubted Renlo had kept the wrapper out of some environmental conscience.
‘He probably wants the remnants on the wrapper.’ He shook his head.
‘Poor boy.’ Valentine’s voice muttered sympathetically inside his head.
‘He reminds me of you.’ Malakai responded without missing a beat.
‘Me?? How?! We look nothing alike!’ Valentine sounded genuinely offended.
Malakai cast Renlo another glance, taking in the boy’s messy hair, slightly oversized clothes, and wide, oblivious smile.
‘You’d have to be blind not to see this.’ Malakai thought.
‘Take a closer look!’ Valentine’s voice suddenly grumbled in his head,
‘I’m… cooler.’
With how hesitant he sounded saying the last word, Malakai doubted if even he believed it.
Shaking his head slightly, Malakai crossed his arms and focused forward, locking onto the instructor who had admonished Renlo earlier.
The whispers among the students died down instantly as the instructor’s aura pressed heavy over the field.
In a firm tone, the man spoke:
“We will begin with the Sanguine Creed.”
He placed a fist against his chest, and the other instructors behind him followed in perfect unison.
Malakai and the rest of the students did the same. Then, as one, they began reciting:
‘When death comes close and shadows near,
We rise as one, we hold no fear.’
‘Through crimson storms and nights of dread,
Our strength endures, our blood is lead.’
‘In the darkest hours, with deviled eyes,
The Sanguine heart never dies.’
This was standard practice before any class began.
Malakai hadn’t experienced it earlier since he arrived late to his first session, but he knew the words well.
Once the creed ended, the instructors suddenly turned toward him.
The leading instructor bowed slightly in respect.
“Welcome to the Combat Conditioning Advanced Class, Ninth Vein.”
The other instructors bowed in unison behind him. At their greeting, the whispers among the youths erupted once again, their shock filling the field like wildfire.
The instructors had just confirmed it, Malakai really did belong to the Advanced Class.
Julius’s gaze narrowed slightly. The other veins, Aurelia and Maximus, exchanged faint glances but didn’t look too surprised.
They had witnessed Malakai’s battle with Jorge. And they knew exactly how dangerous he was.
Regardless, Malakai’s attention wasn’t on any of them. Instead, his focus was fixed on the trembling figure beside him, Renlo, who now looked like he had seen a ghost.
“N-n-ninth V-vein…?”
Renlo stammered weakly. He was beyond shocked.
He had been chatting so casually, joking, even, with the Ninth Vein of the Sanguine Clan?
A Vein!
‘Maybe he’ll forget I ever existed!’
Renlo thought desperately, snapping his gaze forward.
However, the constant, frantic glances he kept shooting toward Malakai truly weren’t helping his case.