Chapter 42: Disciple Badge
The morning sun shone across the academy yard in long golden strips.
Holden found his team at their usual spot near the eastern fountain. Renna was standing on the stone ledge, addressing anyone within earshot whether they wanted to listen or not.
"And then the hounds just kept coming! Wave after wave! I was dropping them like flies, honestly, it was beautiful, every single arrow found its mark, and Emric held that line like an absolute wall of steel and I’m pretty sure I set some kind of accuracy record but nobody was counting so we’ll never know for sure."
Emric sat on the fountain edge with a small notebook balanced on his knee. He was writing furiously.
"I am counting," he said without looking up. "Based on my field estimates, you discharged approximately forty-seven arrows during the engagement. Of those, forty-three struck vital areas. That represents a ninety-one percent accuracy rate under live combat conditions, which is notably above the freshman average of sixty-two percent."
"Thank you, Emric! That’s going in my personal file!"
Lyra stood nearby, a faint smile on her face. She looked relaxed for once. The ruins had apparently been good for her too.
Holden walked up and leaned against the fountain.
"Forty-three out of forty-seven is good," he said. "Though to be fair, Emric’s shield did most of the work. Those hounds basically lined up to bounce off him. I’ve seen boulders with less stopping power."
Emric looked up from his notebook.
"Was that... a compliment?"
"Don’t let it go to your head. Your shield is still ridiculous. You carry that thing everywhere like a turtle who’s afraid of birds."
Renna gasped dramatically.
"Did Holden just make a joke?"
"I make jokes."
"You really don’t," Lyra said. "In the three weeks I’ve known you, I think you’ve said maybe thirty complete sentences total. Half of them were ’hold the line.’"
"Maybe I was saving up."
Renna grinned so wide it looked like it hurt.
"I love this. I love everything about this. The ruins changed you, Holden. You came back fun."
"Let’s not get carried away."
Before anyone could respond, a loud voice cut across the courtyard.
"Well, well. Look who decided to show his face."
Draven marched toward them with three students trailing behind him like loyal dogs. He held his head high and kept his shoulders straight. He acted like a confident noble, but he was really just wearing that attitude like a disguise to fool people.
There were signs that he was faking it. He couldn’t keep his eyes still, and his smile didn’t look real at all. He looked like a man pretending everything was fine while he was actually panicking inside.
He stopped a few feet from the fountain and looked Holden up and down with exaggerated disgust.
"You think a lucky run in those ruins makes you my equal, slum-rat? Please. You survived because you hid behind the rest of us while your betters did the real fighting. I saw you cowering near the back when the hounds attacked. Pathetic."
His three cronies snickered on cue.
Holden didn’t move from the fountain. He just looked at Draven with the same expression someone might use when watching a small dog bark at a window.
"Cowering near the back," Holden repeated slowly, like he was tasting the words. "That’s interesting. Because from where I was standing, which was the actual front line by the way, I saw something a little different."
Draven’s smile flickered.
"What’s that supposed to mean?"
"It means I saw you order your team to retreat the exact moment the second wave hit. Not a tactical repositioning. Not a coordinated fallback. You turned and ran, Draven. You opened a hole in the defense line so wide a carriage could have driven through it. Renna almost died because you were too scared to hold your ground."
The courtyard around them had gone quiet. Students who had been chatting and eating breakfast were now watching.
Draven’s face started turning red.
"That’s a lie! It was a strategic decision! I was baiting them into a kill zone so we could wipe them out in one go!"
"A kill zone." Holden tilted his head. "Is that what we’re calling it? Because it looked a lot like hiding behind your team and hoping someone else would fix your mistake. Which, to be fair, someone did. You’re welcome, by the way."
Renna’s hand shot over her mouth. She was shaking with barely contained laughter.
Emric had stopped writing. His pen hovered over his notebook, frozen mid-stroke.
Lyra’s smile had sharpened into something almost predatory.
Draven stepped closer, his voice dropping to a hiss.
"You have no idea who you’re dealing with, Voss. My family has connections that reach every corner of this academy. One word from my father and your life becomes a living nightmare. They’ll expel you. They’ll blacklist you. They’ll make sure you and your little sister end up right back in the slums where you belong."
Holden sighed. He made a big show of it, letting everyone around him know exactly how bored or frustrated he was feeling.
"I’d explain how politics work, Draven, but I don’t have any crayons to draw you a picture."
Someone in the crowd choked back a laugh.
Draven’s face was fully red now. A vein pulsed visibly at his temple.
"You think this is funny? You think you’re untouchable? I’ll show you exactly what happens when you cross the Valcrest family. By the end of the week, you’ll be begging me for mercy."
"Actually," Holden said, "let me save you some time."
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small metal pin. It was elegant. Black iron with a silver emblem shaped like a crescent moon wrapped around a single star.
He clipped it to the collar of his jacket, right below his chin.
The students in the courtyard who recognized the symbol went dead silent. The ones who didn’t recognize it quickly learned from the people standing next to them, because the whispering spread like wildfire.
"That’s Vespera’s mark."
"Personal disciple? No way."
"Since when? How?"
Draven looked at the pin and all the color left his face.
"That’s... that can’t be real. You forged that."
"I forged a military-class disciple badge in my spare time," Holden said. "Yes. That’s exactly what happened. Great detective work."
Draven’s mouth opened. Then closed. No words came out.
His three cronies had already taken two steps backward. They looked like they were trying to physically distance themselves from Draven without making it obvious.
Attacking Vespera’s personal disciple wasn’t just against the rules. It was like signing a death warrant. No amount of money or political connections could protect the Valcrests now. Vespera was Rank 4. She could legally wipe out their entire family estate tomorrow, and the academy leadership would cheer her on for doing her job.
Draven knew this.
Everyone knew this.
"Run along, Draven," Holden said casually. He examined the pin on his collar like he was making sure it sat straight. "Before you hurt yourself."
Draven’s mouth moved, but he couldn’t make a sound. His eyes moved quickly between the pin, Holden’s face, and the crowd of students watching his public humiliation.
He spun on his heel and hurried off. Every hurried step he took made it clear that he wanted to get as far away from Holden and the crowd as possible.
His cronies scrambled after him.
The courtyard was dead silent for a moment.
Then Renna exploded.
"Oh my GOD!" She doubled over, grabbing her stomach. "Oh my god, Holden! The crayon line! I’m going to remember that forever! That was the most brutal thing I’ve ever heard in my life and I grew up with four older brothers!"
Emric closed his notebook carefully.
"I’d like to state for the record," Emric said, his voice calm, "that Draven running away actually did create a massive gap in our defenses. Your assessment of him was accurate."
"Emric!" Renna wheezed. "You can’t just use math to roast someone! That’s not how it’s done!"
"I’m simply using data to prove that Holden’s observations were correct," Emric explained.
Lyra shook her head slowly, but the smile on her face was genuine.
"You’ve been holding out on us, Voss."
"Maybe I was just waiting for the right moment."
"A moment that involved a public badge reveal and a crayon joke."
"Timing is everything."
Renna finally pulled herself together, wiping tears from her eyes.
"We are definitely getting food after this. Non-negotiable. I need to sit down and process what just happened because I think my brain short-circuited."