War Practice Class

That night.

Amber Hall was brightly lit.

Although the Student Union had lost Norton Hall this year, strategically speaking, it was a major victory over the Lionheart Society.

Under Caesar's arrangements, everyone had gathered to celebrate the victory.

Caesar stood in the shadows on the second floor, looking down at the members of the various clubs in the hall.

Most of them still had bandages and casts on them, with red traces left on their collars from Frigg Bullets bursting, but every face bore the distinctive ease of a victor.

Caesar soon spotted Li Lin and Xia Mi in the crowd.

According to the accounts of numerous injured students, the pair of preps had fought through the entire Day of Freedom, carrying out ambushes and backstabs without restraint...

Caesar remembered it vividly. No one could understand the despair of fighting the Lionheart Society's president to the point of exhaustion in the gymnasium, only to turn around and see an RPG fly in through the main entrance.

But undeniably, the fair, fist-to-fist duel between the two on the tree-lined avenue had managed to restore their reputation.

That violent destructive power was enough to convince people that two fully draconified Dead Servants were tearing each other apart.

The News Department had now split the battle footage into six parts and uploaded them to the Night Watchers Forum as paid content. To stir up the students' desire to spend, they had even used a sensational headline: "Shocking! This Year Will See the Birth of a Super Hybrid Who Stands Above All Other Students."

Caesar had no particular reaction to that. Fingel had always been like that.

He marveled that he had won over such talent with a mere million, then began considering how to use Norton Hall as an excuse to bring them together.

After all, his Chinese was excellent, and he understood the principle that a gentleman helped others fulfill their romances. He wanted to go with the flow and help Li Lin win over his childhood sweetheart, whose relationship with him had remained undefined for ten years.

He had even worked out how much wedding money he would give and which world-famous wedding planning team he would hire...

Until a call came through to Caesar's phone.

The caller ID read, "Frost Gattuso."

Caesar's expression immediately darkened and shifted, but he still answered the call with the proper courtesy.

"Good evening, Uncle."

Frost knew Caesar's temperament, so he got straight to the point.

"War Practice Class is next week. Professor Schneider will personally command the group you've been assigned to. Your performance in this mission will determine whether you can make an exceptional entry into the Executive Department within this semester."

"And Li Lin is in the same group as you. You can use his strength to complete the mission, but remember to guard against him. That sixteen-year-old boy is far more dangerous than you imagine..."

Caesar immediately hung up. Frost's voice disgusted him, and the friends he acknowledged were not for others to point fingers at.

It simply was not the right occasion for Caesar to grab Frost and curse him out.

He put away his phone, adjusted his mood, and walked toward the hall.

The moment Caesar appeared in his combat uniform, he drew everyone's attention. His golden hair gleamed under the lights like a crown. Holding a glass of champagne, he stood on the steps and looked down at the Student Union members below like a young emperor reviewing his legion.

"Everyone," he said, "we won today."

After a brief silence, applause and cheers erupted through the hall. Some raised their glasses, some whistled, and some even picked up instruments nearby and began to play. The sound struck the dome overhead and fell back down like the torch outside the hall that symbolized victory.

Caesar raised a hand and tapped the railing, and all sound quickly died down.

"But Day of Freedom is ultimately just a game. Starting next week, we will face War Practice Class."

"Frigg Bullets can knock people unconscious, but they won't kill. Those who fall will wake up a few hours later, rub their chests, curse, and head to the infirmary to have their wounds treated. Today, you fell on the lawn. Tomorrow, you can still return to the classroom to write reports, complain about the assignments your professors gave you, and mock the Lionheart Society's marksmanship on the Night's Watch Forum..."

Caesar's clear and forceful words carried through the entire hall.

"But next week's War Practice Class will be different. That is a battlefield. Dragons and Dead Servants will not indulge your games. The special school rules of Day of Freedom will no longer apply off campus, so I am not here merely to celebrate tonight. When the class ends, I do not want to see anyone permanently absent from this dinner..."

The second-years who had just been chatting and laughing, along with the freshmen who had only recently enrolled, fell silent.

Many lowered their heads to look at the red traces still unwashed from their cuffs. They suddenly realized how shallow that color was. It looked like blood, but it was only a toy made by the Equipment Department. Day of Freedom had sent their adrenaline surging, breeding excitement and pride and making them feel like warriors, but a real battlefield would not give them such a beautiful illusion.

Caesar swept his gaze across the room.

"You may drink in the glory in your champagne, but forget half of this victory. Keep the other half, because we need pride. Those without pride cannot go to war, nor do they deserve to stand beneath the Student Union's banner. But remember, pride is not a reason to underestimate your enemy. It is what lets you straighten your spine again when you are afraid."

"To today's victory—" The Student Union president raised his glass.

Everyone raised their glasses.

"To next week's battlefield."

Every voice in the hall merged into one.

"To the Student Union."

Caesar smiled again. The lights reflected in his ice-blue eyes like golden flames.

"To ourselves!"

The clink of glasses rang through Amber Hall, crisp and bright, like countless blades being drawn at once.

In the corner of the banquet hall, Li Lin, who had just been eagerly devouring a Boston lobster, even put down his knife and fork. Swept up by the mood, he raised his glass and howled along with everyone around him.

Hearing Li Lin call Caesar "Boss Caesar" every other word, Xia Mi could not help looking up at the leaderly Caesar. She muttered sourly, "What a show-off," then asked Li Lin whether he was free to go on a date over the weekend.

Li Lin hurriedly patted his chest and said that he absolutely had time. Just as he was about to ask when Xia Mi, the head of the Martial Arts Club, planned to bring up the Norton Hall bounty with Caesar, Caesar suddenly approached them as he entered the hall, drawing the attention of a large number of Student Union members with him.

"You two, how does it feel to be in the spotlight?"

"No feeling. Boss, when are you planning to buy Norton Hall?"

Although he had just won Day of Freedom, Li Lin remained so calm that he hardly seemed like a young man at the center of the entire school's attention.

Caesar imitated Li Lin's tone as he spoke.

"I actually have no plans. On second thought, I am not the true winner. The best owner of Norton Hall should be the young man who won it all. He should take the girl he likes by the hand, stand with her on the balcony, and gaze across half the campus along the hills."

Caught off guard by Caesar's sudden attempt at matchmaking, Li Lin looked at him and thought, Damn, Boss, when something comes up, you really dare to make a move.

Feeling the gazes around her filled with goodwill and blessings, Xia Mi only felt uncomfortable all over. Like a shy kitten, she twisted around and hid behind Li Lin's back. Then, after thinking it over, she simply lowered her head and bit into the slice of ice cream cake on her plate.