Chapter 720: The Festival Briefing
The instructor's voice echoed through the hall, calm yet laden with a weight that made every word seem heavier.
"The Milhwa Festival is built upon three essential pillars, each representing the spirit of competition and survival. This year, however, will not adhere to tradition in the way you might expect. The rules remain the same, yes-but the path you will take has become far more dangerous and challenging."
He paused, glancing down at the book resting on the lectern. The dim, golden light danced across his sharp, stern features, his gray eyes cold and inscrutable.
"Due to the heightened severity of this year's festival, the registration process will follow stricter protocols. That being said, these changes are minor. Participation is still open to all- regardless of the risk. However, any student with a D-class talent or lower will be required to sign a legal waiver before entering."
A murmur of voices erupted like a wave crashing against stone. Confusion and frustration rippled through the crowd.
"A legal agreement for what?"
"Why do they have to single us out?"
"It's not our fault we drew the short straw with D-class talents!"
Northern glanced around, his lips curling downward in faint pity.
'Poor, clueless souls.'
The instructor remained silent as the protests grew louder, his expression unwavering.
Then, with deliberate precision, he reached for the long microphone at his side. His fingers coiled around its neck, and with a sharp twist, he wrenched a screeching noise from the speakers that tore through the hall like a banshee's wail.
The crowd recoiled, clutching their ears and groaning in discomfort. Northern winced but couldn't help smirking at the chaos.
'What a way to get everyone's attention.'
As the sound dissipated, the instructor tapped the mic twice, the sharp clicks echoing through the now-silent hall.
Clearing his throat, he resumed his speech with the same measured tone, entirely unfazed by the outrage he'd just quelled.
"Now that we have your attention, let us proceed to the first contest," he said, his voice cutting through the lingering tension. "Monster hunting. As per tradition, cohorts will consist of four participants. However, this year's format will not be a simple wide-area hunt. Instead, each cohort will venture into a rift... alone."
A collective gasp rippled through the students, their murmurs now tinged with genuine fear and unease.
Northern's sharp eyes scanned the crowd, noting the shifting expressions as realization dawned.
A rift was no ordinary hunting ground. It was a death ground.
The instructor allowed the murmurs to linger for a moment before continuing.
"This adjustment, of course, explains the legal waivers. We must ensure the academy is protected from liability should weaker students insist on participating despite the obvious risks."
Northern clicked his tongue in annoyance, a flicker of irritation crossing his face.
'How convenient. Just throw the responsibility back onto the students and wash your hands of it.'
The instructor's gray eyes swept across the room, his gaze like steel cutting through the
murmurs.
"Because of the festival's limited duration, the first contest will span only three days. At the end of this period, all participants will be extracted from their respective rifts. The team with the highest number of kills will be declared the winner of the first contest."
A hush fell over the room as the instructor's words sank in.
"Additionally," he continued, his voice cold and deliberate, "the first three teams to exceed fifty confirmed kills will receive significant bonus rewards. Bear that in mind."
Northern smiled, crossing his arms as he studied the man at the lectern. The instructor flipped to another page in his book, his expression unchanging.
"The second stage of the contest, as usual, shall be a showcase of skill. However, the authorities will be giving everyone a quest to fulfill, to ensure fairness among all students."
He flipped to the next page.
"As for the last stage of the contest-the cohort duel-there shall also be a significant change. Unlike before, where cohort members could choose whom they wanted to fight, this year, once you step onto the arena, you will not step down until you are defeated. The win of each cohort will be calculated by how long a single member stays in the arena. After that, the results shall be combined, and on the last day of the week-the ceremony day-the announcement shall be made."
The instructor turned to another page and stayed silent for a few seconds. Murmurs rose as his silence prolonged.
For the first time since he stepped onto the podium, Northern noticed an emotion on his face. His eyebrows creased as an unpleasant expression settled on his face for a very brief, almost unnoticeable moment. Then he raised his head.
As his voice rang out from the hall speakers, the murmurs died down.
"The last change... is the most interesting and significant one."
He paused. Silence drowned out the entire hall as every single soul waited in anticipation to hear what he had to say. Even Northern.
And it came:
"The festival shall be held outside the academy grounds."
Ignoring his bland announcement, the entire hall erupted into chaos with screams and jumps. Students threw their hands into the air and jumped with immense energy, hugging each other
and rejoicing together.
Northern and probably a few others were the only ones not jumping and celebrating as the other students did. It did not mean they were not happy, though.
Northern, for example, was very skeptical about jumping lest he shatter a crack into the floor
of the hall. And even if he wanted to, he would never jump.
'Why the hell would I do that?'
Other students probably had reasonable reasons like him.
Northern averted his gaze from them and fixed his eyes on the instructor.
'...It's good news... why did he look displeased by it?'
Especially for Northern, this created an opportunity for a much larger stage because the fact that it was now open meant that guests from far and wide across the Central Plains, perhaps even other continents, would make their way to the ceremony.
Not just that, but citadels and even the government-everyone would be available to watch the contest, eager to note down potential talents and prodigies to hunt down at all cost.
This was an avenue to make a lot of money from entry tickets and make their fame grow even more—although the academy was renowned enough.
All this was good... but the instructor was displeased by it. Why?