Dragon's Awakening: The Duke's Son Is Changing The Plot-Chapter 113 - 112 - Game’s On.

After a bout of silence between Raven and the instructors, while the students kept murmuring, the lead instructor pulled out a scroll, tapping it once for silence.

"Regardless," Professor Yulenne began, "the trial begins now. All teams, listen well."

The clearing fell quiet, aside from a baby squirrel hiccuping dramatically into a thimble.

"The objective is simple," she continued. "Within this vast portion of Bestiary Mountain forest, hundreds of gem shards have been scattered. These gems are infused with subtle magical traces. Your task is to gather as many as possible."

"There are traps," added another teacher with the grin of someone who had personally placed those traps.

"Some areas are illusion-covered. Some have minor beasts. Some with more than one gem may even have more potent illusions or stronger beasts guarding it."

"Are you sure the squirrels can do it?" Rufus asked, and Raven turned toward the guy with a deadpan look.

"Am I a squirrel?" He asked, making Rufus shut up, as he knew he would be bullied if he said more.

Honestly, though, even Raven wasn’t sure.

But since their little friends seemed confident, he decided to trust them.

After all, he could always go by himself and collect some gems. He wouldn’t fail, at least.

"Right," the head teacher muttered, adjusting her glasses and pretending she didn’t hear Raven and Rufus’s conversation. "Each team will report their gem count at the end of three days. The team with the most gems will be awarded the first rank, pardoned from paying the year-end fees, and given extra resources."

For some students, it might be the best reward they could hope for, but not for Raven or anyone in his group.

They were all second-generation rich children.

They had no shortage of money or resources, but they would need to aim for the first rank anyway.

They had an image to uphold.

Raven slowly turned to Nibbles, who had a little squirrel squad already forming into marching ranks, complete with tiny bags strapped to their backs.

"Three days, huh?" Raven muttered, cracking his neck.

"Three days," Clara repeated, stepping closer.

"We’ll win this," Jessy added, calm and sure.

"FOR SQUIRREL!" Alex yelled, pumping a fist.

Everyone turned.

"I mean... for glory. And education," he corrected sheepishly.

Raven rolled his shoulders, his eyes sweeping over the trees and the distant glimmers of gem-sensing spells flickering into the air.

This trial wasn’t going to be about who fought best.

It was going to be about who could out-hustle the others... and who had the fluffiest, most hyper-focused, nut-obsessed operatives working for them in shifts.

Raven smirked.

’Game’s on.’

...

Meanwhile, on the other side of the forest.

Siris didn’t know where exactly she was in the forest anymore.

She had stopped keeping track after the tenth clearing.

Each time, the crow would descend, wait like a judge examining a stage, and then the demonic humans would slither out from the shadows.

Each time, Siris would stop her twitching fingers and stay hidden.

She could kill them. All of them.

She wanted to.

For Raven.

But the voice inside her head always said the same thing.

’No. Not yet. Kill the demonic humans; the familiar is alarmed, and the summoner cancels the summon. We lose everything. You wouldn’t be of any help to Raven.’

That last part always got her to stop.

Because Raven... he had never praised her.

Even if he did, he never meant it.

He never said things like, "You’re amazing, Siris."

However, he had praised Clara. She had seen him do that, and although she never showed it, she felt hurt.

She wanted to be praised.

She wanted to be appreciated.

She wanted to be loved.

Unfortunately, she never experienced any of them.

Raven had even praised that princess disguised as a prince once, but not her.

So, now, she had to do something praiseworthy.

Even if she had no idea what this crow was leading her into, she would follow it.

...

By the time they reached the final clearing, Siris knew something was off.

The crow descended for longer than usual, wings beating a little slower, almost like it was waiting for her.

The clearing was different too—larger, stone-lined in places like it had once been part of something ancient, and it pulsed with a mana signature that made her spirit hum.

’This isn’t a gathering point. This... feels like a trap,’ the spirit muttered.

’Doesn’t matter,’ Siris thought. ’I’ll kill them all if it means protecting Raven.’

’You’re very sweet when you’re homicidal,’ the spirit added, amused.

Siris didn’t smile. But she appreciated the compliment.

She stepped into the clearing.

Silently. Visibly. Deliberately.

Because the crow had stopped looking away.

It was staring at her now, and so was Travis Crymont.

He was lounging against a boulder like a man on break from a part-time job, flipping a dagger between his fingers. His dark-blonde hair looked tousled on purpose, and his black eyes sparkled with irritating, punchable confidence.

"Oh-ho!" He laughed when she appeared. "Finally! I was starting to think you got distracted by shiny rocks or... I dunno, squirrels doing dabs."

Siris didn’t speak.

"I mean, don’t get me wrong," Travis continued, standing up with a spin and exaggerated bow, "I’m honored. Truly. That you, of all people, followed my little birdie all the way out here. Raven must have you on a short leash, huh?"

Siris tilted her head.

Still no words.

Behind Travis, nearly two dozen demonic humans stepped into view, surrounding the clearing with that greasy, corrupted mana she hated so much.

The air reeked of sulfur and ambition.

"You know," Travis said, sauntering closer, "I never understood what he sees in you. You’re like a cat with a knife fetish. No impulse control. Always staring at people like they’re puzzles you want to stab into place."

Siris blinked slowly.

’I could kill him now,’ she thought.

’You could,’ the spirit replied. ’But then the fun part ends too fast.’

"Oh, wait, wait," Travis grinned, raising a hand as he stopped just short of her reach. "Let me guess—he gave you a nickname. Something cute, like ’murder pixie’ or ’walking trauma in a dress.’ Did he tell you you’re special? I know he didn’t because you’re nothing but a murder weapon for him."

That hit too close.

Her fingers twitched. Not from rage—she wasn’t that unstable.

But she had promised herself.

She would be useful to him.

Travis’s words, however, made her question it once. ’Am I really nothing but a weapon for him?’

’He’s trying to shake you, Siris. Stay focused!’ The spirit in Siris’s head warned her about Travis’s attempt, making the girl grit her teeth.

"You talk too much," she finally said.

Travis blinked.

"...I do, don’t I?" He admitted with a grin. "But that’s okay. Because I brought someone who does not."

The ground rumbled.

A seal appeared behind him, pulsing with deep crimson glyphs.

Mana whipped outward like smoke, reversing direction.

Then, out of the blood-lit sigil, something stepped.

Or rather—crawled.

It was hard to describe.

It was humanoid in shape, but too tall, too thin, and too wrong.

Its arms were long enough to brush the floor, and its head was encased in a cracked bone mask, featureless except for a single, vertical eye that blinked slowly like it was waking up.

Siris stared.

’...What is that?’

’A summon,’ the spirit said slowly. ’It feeds on his life force. Every second it stays, he dies a little faster.’

’Suicidal much?’

’Confident much. He thinks this is worth it.’

Travis cracked his neck, breathing a little harder already.

"See? This guy—this guy—costs me months of my life just to stand here. And I’m using him for you." He winked. "Feel special, sweetheart."

Siris looked at the creature.

Then back at Travis.

Then she tilted her head again.

"...You’re going to die first."

Travis gestured dramatically. "Aw, that’s sweet. The bloodthirsty loyalty. I’d be touched, but I’m too busy trying not to get my soul eaten."

The summon didn’t move. It just stood behind him like a monument to nightmares, unmoving. Waiting.

It was as if it wasn’t even bothered by her presence.

It seemed relaxed, as if saying that it wouldn’t even attack until she did.

’Siris, don’t get provoked. That summoned creature is strong.’

Siris didn’t respond. She instead stepped forward.

The moment she moved, she vanished from her spot.

Or maybe her speed was so fast that it looked like she vanished.

But the moment Siris moved, Travis flinched—not at her—but because the summon moved.

Just an inch.

A hiss of motion.

However, it still didn’t attack.

It stared at Siris as if taunting her to do something.

Siris could somehow see condescension in the creature’s eyes.

But since it hadn’t attacked her yet, Siris decided to make use of this moment to defeat the other demonic humans.

At least she could decrease the number of her enemies.

Above all, that creature didn’t look like it would listen to Travis, so it was better if it kept underestimating her.

Her body vanished.

She reappeared behind one of the demonic soldiers and smashed him into the dirt with an element-infused elbow that snapped the ground like brittle glass.

Before the others could react, she launched herself through them, a blur of movement and violet-black energy trailing from her limbs like ghostly fire.

For the first time, her hands didn’t hold her bone dagger.

Her hands themselves were blades.

Energy coalesced around her in jagged arcs—an elementless energy so pure and raw it made spells unravel just by brushing it.

It was the null element. The main power Siris had.

With a flicker, one of the demonic mages shouted and tried to form a shield.

It dissolved.

Siris punched straight through it and sent him flying with half his ribcage missing.

"...Oh," Travis muttered, taking a step back. "So that’s your power."

The summon finally moved.

Faster than wind, smoother than thought.

It appeared behind her—and Siris barely twisted away in time. Its long claws scraped her arm, drawing a thin line of blood that hissed against her null energy like water on fire.

It didn’t chase her as she retreated. It just stared at her while licking the blood on its claws, a delighted glint passing through its eyes.

’It’s testing you now,’ the spirit warned. ’It’s strong. Stronger than you. Maybe stronger than Raven—’

’No,’ Siris said. ’No one’s stronger than Raven. He’d already be five steps ahead and have ten traps laid.’

’But you’re not Raven.’

’I know.’

She cracked her knuckles.

’But I am angry.’

From across the clearing, Travis laughed again.

"Alright, psycho-girl," he called. "Let’s dance. Also, don’t worry. When you die, I will send Raven a fruit basket with your remains. Maybe a toe. Something cute."

Siris didn’t answer.

She just lifted her glowing, elementless hands.

Then, she moved toward the next demonic human.

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