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After class, I rose to pack my things like everyone else, ready to leave. At that moment, Master Tartarus lightly touched the edge of my consciousness.

"Master," I approached the black wolf, flattening my ears and lowering my muzzle toward the ground.

"The Field has been complaining to me about Senate quite a bit lately, that why are you so…" The master tilted his head, pausing briefly. "Allow me to use a more refined term rather than resorting to anatomical references—‘lacking in resolve.’"

I tilted my head, folding my right ear, hoping for more explanation—Apart from anatomical metaphors.

"I don't want to critique the methods of other faction too much," he said, flicking his tail to the left, which said enough. "I was a bit worried that unpleasant experiences in your early years might have a negative impact on you." I forced myself to watch his teeth as he spoke, but the increasingly uncomfortable feeling made me want to look away. "But from what I saw today, it doesn’t seem to be an issue," he said, raising a hand nonchalantly, which only confused me more.

"Master, do you mean…?" Continuing with these vague hints was getting us nowhere, so I decided to ask directly.

"Awareness, Richter," the black wolf smiled, as if only now realizing I hadn't understood him. "The awareness of a strong one." He shrugged. "At least it's the first step."

"Awareness?" I tried to recall various parts of the lesson, worried I might have missed something important while I was distracted.

"Asking a question you already know the answer to is rather illogical behavior—unless you’re trying to emphasize a specific point," the master said in a mildly reproachful tone, making my ears instinctively flatten further, even though I still didn’t fully grasp his meaning.

With no outward gesture, Master Tartarus suddenly set up some kind of barrier, enclosing us within it. If not for the faint shift in the shadows around us, I might have missed the almost invisible structure, so delicate that even in the realm of consciousness, it left hardly a ripple.

"Qana is fine; you don't need to worry. He's too important to the Senate. At most, those old wolves will just tell him to reflect and temporarily ground him. The Council has also decided not to pursue any charges against him for privately training you." I hadn’t expected this topic from the master, leaving me momentarily speechless, so I listened on. "So just enjoy your time at the Academy and focus on making some trouble." He winked his right eye at me, his tone playful.

"Thank you for your concern, Master." I bowed my head, grateful, letting him know I understood his underlying message.

"That said, don’t get too relaxed," he said, his worried tone making me look up and meet his gaze. "Obvious malice is rarely the most dangerous; it can be seen and anticipated. What’s truly deadly often hides beneath goodwill—those who care only about their own goals." The black wolf’s golden eyes glanced at me before turning away, sweeping over others as they left in small groups. "I suspect you've caught the attention of someone very dangerous, but I don’t want to alert them until we have more concrete evidence." He returned his gaze to me, narrowing his eyes slightly. "You must act carefully. And if you ever need help, don’t hesitate to seek it from someone you trust."

"Yes, Master," I bowed again. "I understand."

"Do you really understand? From your recent actions, it doesn’t seem so," he tilted his head, giving me a sidelong look.

"Yes, I understand," I replied, beginning to sweat and very much hoping he wouldn’t bring up any specific “actions”—I could think of a few that would be embarrassing.

"You better be. I don’t want to incur Qana’s wrath." He relaxed, sighed, and stood up, releasing the barrier. "If you have any issues, feel free to reach out to me anytime." After showing me his unique contact pulse, he waved and left. I bowed as he departed, watching as Nyx walked away with the graceful gait of flowing darkness.

"I’d guess you’re one of those ‘teacher’s pet’ types, huh?" Kotetsu senpai appeared from nowhere, nudging my shoulder teasingly. "Seeing it in person is kind of funny."

"I don’t see a problem with showing respect to someone more capable," I said, grabbing my bag and walking out of the lecture hall with him.

"I thought carnivores valued strength," the Altai Wapiti shrugged. "So I assumed you were just being polite."

"Uh… those don’t have to conflict," I said, scratching my ear, feeling somewhat conflicted by his perception. "Besides, Master Tartarus’s abilities are definitely above mine."

"I get where you’re coming from," Kotetsu senpai replied. "But haven’t you checked the psychic strength rankings?"

"Not really," I admitted. I’d glanced at it last year when I found out it existed, so I knew Qana was ranked ninth among active psychics, while Master Tartarus was seventh, but I hadn’t looked at it since—just like any other Academy rankings.

"Your ranking is third, only below Master Sunflare and Field," Kotetsu senpai said, waving to a passing pair of antelopes.

"Huh, really?" I felt more bemusement than anxiety, maybe finally getting used to this sort of thing. "How is that even calculated? It seems like it’s just inflated nonsense."

"Some rankings and statistics might indulge curiosity or entertainment, but the psychic strength ranking isn’t like that; its parameters are based on known facts and accomplishments, all with verifiable sources." Kotetsu senpai said, scrolling on his terminal before handing it over to me.

I quickly skimmed it, feeling the urge to stop at the phrase “as powerful as a star” but forced myself to continue.

"‘Fusion reaction control’ really gets a high score," I muttered, scrolling past “possesses (suspected complete) adamantine weapon” and “Dominion core count of at least thirty thousand.” But seeing “carnivore who passed Basic Mental Wave Construction and Waveform Analysis“ made me feel a bit smug, even if the score was somewhat low.

"What it took both Master Sunflare and Field to achieve, you managed on your own." Kotetsu senpai clapped my shoulder, almost making me jump. "Feigning humility just annoys people, you know?"

"It was just a confinement, and I passed out during it anyway…” I mumbled, but the Altai Wapiti, like everyone else, didn’t seem willing to accept that obvious fact.

I’m not the type of wolf who feels uncomfortable with praise—okay, maybe a bit—but the point is, the praise should at least be accurate, or it just feels like mindless flattery! Ugh, I don’t want to be bothered by something so trivial!

"What did you and the Master talk about? He seemed pleased." Kotetsu senpai’s assertion made me suspect he might not be great at reading the body language of wolves, or maybe he just didn’t mind saying flattering things. "I’m aiming to pass the beginner course of Dominate-Smithing this year, so if you have any tips on impressing Master Tartarus, I could really use them." The Altai Wapiti flicked his ear, looking a bit sheepish.

I remembered " Dominate-Smithing " was shorthand for “Dominion Applied Smithing System,” a course open only to psychics proficient in Dominion. Almost no one completed the entire program's requirements; supposedly, this was because Master Tartarus was notoriously strict and unyielding.

But Master Field told me that the real reason was the lack of psychics with the necessary talent, and that it was normal for few people to pass. And once I was ready, he promised to show me the essence of this art.

"It’s mainly about the Senate," I said, not wanting to give senpai the impression I had any sort of shortcut. "The Master was just… passing along a message."

The Altai Wapiti shrugged at this rough explanation without pressing further, but he didn’t look entirely convinced.

Luckily, while we waited for the transport pods, we met a small group of herbivores who seemed to be familiar with Kotetsu senpai, and they chatted enthusiastically until we entered the cafeteria and went our separate ways.

“Feel free to eat meat,” Kotetsu senpai said abruptly, catching me off guard as I was trying to decide what to order. I looked at him, surprised. “You don’t need to worry about things like that when it’s just me around.”

“Oh, okay.” I scratched my ear, unsure if he genuinely felt that way or just wanted me to feel at ease. “Uh… thanks.”

“It’s nothing.” He turned his head, a sly smirk tugging at his lips. “After all, I’ve already eaten your…”

“Chargrilled pork ribs!” I blurted out loudly, drawing confused stares from those around us, including a few herbivores who looked on with particular disdain.

Ignoring my burning ears, I went up to the terminal to order, determined not to lift my gaze.

Once we finally settled into a corner seat, I felt like I could breathe a sigh of relief.

"I thought you were the kind of 'progressive' who wouldn’t mind things like this," the Altai Wapiti said, clearly unwilling to let me off the hook. He slowly coiled a sprig of alfalfa around his chopsticks, slipping it into his mouth in a suggestive, almost sensual way.

“Not minding what others do and not wanting to do it myself are two different things,” I retorted, rolling my eyes. Kotetsu senpai was dramatic—had he always been like this, or was I only now noticing? “And please, stop playing with your food.”

“Okay, but,” the Altai Wapiti leaned in close, his snout near mine, and murmured, “didn’t you already show your belly to me?”

There was a crunch as I bit down hard on a rib bone, snapping it. I only realized what I’d done when my teeth hit the metal fork. Kotetsu senpai chuckled, clearly amused by my stiff, flustered reaction.

“You really don’t handle jokes well,” the Wapiti clicked his tongue, mocking me, then leaned back in his seat.

I didn’t have much to counter with, so I just snorted in response, spitting out bits of bone and slicing another rib with my knife.

“Are you sure you don’t want to try some venison?” Though his tone and expression were casual, I could sense a hidden meaning in Kotetsu senpai’s question.

“I wouldn’t say no.” I stammered, but answered honestly, “If there’s a chance… maybe I could… try it next time.” The instant the Altai Wapiti’s lips curled upward, a warm flush spread through my ears again.

“No more teasing,” Kotetsu senpai said with a shrug. “Or we won’t get through this meal.”

“You’re finally catching on.” I shot back, exasperated, chewing the remaining meat clean off the bone.

“Just remember to save some room.” He rose to retrieve our other dishes, leaving me to suppress a frustrated growl bubbling up my throat.

I decided to cut the rest of the ribs in advance to avoid another accidental bone-crunching incident. Just as I finished, a black-and-white figure approached.

“We need to talk.” Hamp senpai’s voice was low. I greeted him with a flick of my ear and glanced at Tadao, standing beside him. The red deer’s gaze wandered, his hand moving in and out of his pocket, looking uneasy.

“Oh, alright.” I adjusted the tableware, gesturing to the empty seat beside me.

“No, not now.” The Border Collie scanned the cafeteria and then locked eyes with me again. “When Kotetsu isn’t around.”

“Oh…” His clipped tone and demeanor made me feel off-kilter.

Was something wrong?

I looked at Tadao for a hint, but he only avoided my gaze.

“Contact me when the situation allows,” Hamp senpai demonstrated a subtle gesture for a different contact signal. “As soon as possible.”

“If it’s that urgent, I could just…” I began, only to be cut off by Hamp senpai’s gesture.

“Stick to your usual schedule—whatever that is.” He waved me off, and I shot Tadao a slightly reproachful look. The red deer scratched the spot where his skin met his antlers, avoiding my eyes again. “Avoiding unnecessary attention is the top priority.”

After I indicated my understanding, Hamp senpai left with Tadao. I stabbed a chunk of meat, deep in thought about what could be so secretive. But at the Academy, the answer was probably “everything.” Rumor had it that once cadets finished training and after deployment phase, those vying for Council seats engaged in even more dangerous games, making these pre-graduation squabbles seem like child’s play.

Just as I was about to dismiss my musings, something Master Tartarus said about not “alert them” slipped into my mind.

Could these things be connected?

I turned just in time to see Kotetsu senpai returning.

Yes, they probably were.

But… why was this Altai Wapiti making them so nervous?

Based on what Master Tartarus seemed to know… uh… about that matter, it looked like the black wolf and Hamp senpai were in the same faction, with Tadao as a member too. So, it must be the “Fool,” a mysterious faction known for their low-profile operations. Despite being one of the founding factions, few knew much about their deeds.

Still, Master Tartarus was an immensely powerful psychic. There was no way he’d call Kotetsu senpai—a Beta-class herbivore—a “someone very dangerous,” right?

So maybe this convoluted mystery had nothing to do with Kotetsu senpai at all and was just my paranoia flaring up. But if that were the case, I had no idea who else it could refer to!

It was maddening; I hated being tangled up in this kind of baseless paranoia!

“Is something wrong?” The Altai Wapiti asked as he sat down, placing our bowls of soup on the table. “You don’t look well.”

“It’s nothing.” I shook my head, refusing to let pointless thoughts weigh me down. “Just something Master Tartarus mentioned before.”

It was kind of true, I thought.

“Bad news from home?” Kotetsu senpai asked with concern.

“It’s good news, technically, but I’m basically… helpless.” I chose my words cautiously. “So… it feels terrible being unable to do anything.”

“Every family has its struggles.” He replied quietly, sipping his soup.

“What about your family, senpai? Are they well?” I recalled that people in the Federation often inquired about each other’s families, so this shouldn’t be crossing any lines.

“Nothing too special.” The Altai Wapiti shrugged. “Ours is a traditional Federation family. Since I’m the second son and can’t inherit the family business, it’s expected that I stand on my own early. I spend more time reporting to my superior officer than talking to family.”

“Oh, I see.” As if I actually understood.

“Some people are just more bound by their past.” He set down a bowl, his tone distant. “Since you brought it up—what you said in class, did you mean it?” The Altai Wapiti looked up, meeting my gaze. “It wasn’t just to stir up debate, right?”

“Yeah, I was serious.” I answered slowly, gathering my thoughts and pushing my food into a small pile on my plate. “I know it sounds strange, but I really mean it.”

After a pause, with no response from him, I felt a bit awkward and kept shoveling food into my mouth mechanically.

“I don’t think it sounds strange,” he finally said, tracing the edge of his plate with his fingertips.

I slowed my chewing, angling my ears toward him to show I was listening.

“I’ve always believed that outcomes matter more than intentions—benefits above all else.” The Altai Wapiti tapped his fingernails against the table, staring at his plate for a while before picking up his chopsticks again. “If killing a million civilians could bring peace, I wouldn’t blink at carrying out that order.”

“But… that would be a war crime, wouldn’t it?” I replied as gently as I could, a chill running through me at the thought of a military officer-to-be holding such views.

“‘War crimes’ are reserved for the losers.” I couldn’t tell if it was my imagination, but Kotetsu senpai bared his teeth when he said that.

I didn’t know how to respond, but I felt like I’d learned more about herbivores today.

“Anyway,” perhaps noticing his slip, Kotetsu senpai cleared his throat and returned to a normal posture. “Your words really struck me.”

“Couldn’t understand it?” I asked. He just gave a soft laugh and a slight shake of his head without elaborating. After a while, realizing he wasn’t going to explain, I continued my own thoughts. “It just seems strange to me to draw lines between ‘us’ and ‘them’.” I curled my tongue around a rib, biting off the cartilage at the end and gnawing the last bits clean. "Just because of circumstance, we end up on opposite sides and become enemies. Under such an absurd premise, debating whether it's better to end a war swiftly and decisively or to drag it out, causing more casualties, seems utterly illogical to me."

“If I didn’t know you better, I’d call you naïve,” Kotetsu senpai said, his lips quirking up. “But now, I think it’s more ‘arrogance of the strong.’”

“Huh, arrogance?” I asked, taken aback. “Why would you say that?”

“Because no rules can bind you— you are the rule itself,” Koetsu senpai said, pointing his chopsticks at me twice for emphasis.

“Is…that so?” I bit down gently on the bone, mulling over his words.

Could this connect to what Master Tartarus mentioned—the self-awareness of the strong, something he believed I should come to understand?

Arrogance? Was it arrogant of me to want to stand side by side with others?

“Who knows? I’m hardly an omniscient prophet.” Koetsu senpai’s tone shifted to a lighter one, now laced with his usual playfulness. “But perhaps, as we continue exploring in the future, we’ll come to understand more—whether about ourselves or this overwhelmingly complex world.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “All I know is, once you finish eating, we’ve got a few more matters to…explore.”

I bit my own tongue, the sudden sting of pain causing tears to well up and blur my vision. After wiping my eyes and healing the wound, I glanced at the Altai Wapiti with a reproachful, almost sulking look, as he clearly enjoyed every moment of my awkward reaction.