Chapter 114: Cavalry Call
Once the bell’s sharp, ringing tone echoed across the academy grounds, its final, echoing note a command, everyone surged back to the central field. The orderly lines of students from the lunch break dissolved into a rush of bodies, a cacophony of footsteps and eager chatter.
The air, heavy with the scent of freshly cut grass and lingering paint, vibrate with renewed energy. Hovering bots, efficient and silent, glided across the turf, their specialized cleaning mechanisms quickly erasing the splotches of paint, leaving the field clear and ready for the next game.
The expansive green, once a chaotic canvas, was once again clean and empty, awaiting the next wave of competition. Students began to fill up the designated areas, forming clusters around their respective team banners.
Trixtan, however, seemed to move with a slight hesitation, a rare moment of discomfort shadowing his usually exuberant demeanor.
Trixtan was still feeling the lingering weight of his earlier, thoughtless remark to Link, a prickle of genuine guilt. He decided to follow Link, hoping to find a moment to apologize. He wove through the crowd, his eyes fixed on Link’s back. But as soon as he tried to open his mouth, to utter the words of apology, the older students from the white team, all seniors with stern faces and an air of authority, surrounded Link, forming an impenetrable huddle.
They pulled him deeper into their circle, their hushed voices speaking of strategy and concerns, their backs presenting a clear barrier. Trixtan stopped, his hand dropping.
Eirin had watched Trixtan’s brief, thwarted attempt, seeing the way his shoulders slumped just slightly. She considered intervening, perhaps calling out to him, but decided against it. This was something Trixtan had to navigate himself, a consequence of his impulsive nature.
’Coleen’s making me worry,’ Eirin thought, a wave of concern washing over her as she remembered the deeply hurt, almost terrified, expression Coleen had worn after Link’s revelation. The merry atmosphere of the sports festival seemed incapable of touching that vulnerability.
"Everyone, prepare for the battle!" Mr. Blade’s voice boomed once more, sharp and authoritative, drawing all attention back to the stage. He cleared his throat, the sound magnified and thunderous through the loudspeakers. "We will be needing a minimum of 1 group per team and a maximum of 5. However, your points will be divided if you choose to join more groups. I will now be explaining the mechanics of this dynamic team sport," he announced.
"Each cavalry team must consist of four players. Three players form the base, or to be precise, they will be acting as the horses, by linking arms or shoulders and bending over," Mr. Blade began explaining, his hands mimicking the formation. He gestured to a small demonstration group of academy staff, who dutifully arranged themselves into the described formation, showcasing the physical demands of the base.