Chapter 3: The Broken Record

The tactical classroom was built like an amphitheater, with rows of dark wooden desks stepping down toward a massive glass war-table. Inside the table, three-dimensional light projections displayed terrain maps, troop movements, and resource nodes.

Instructor Reyne stood at the base of the room, his arms folded over his chest. His sharp gaze swept across the thirty students seated at their personal command terminals.

"Today’s simulation is simple," Reyne said, his voice cutting through the hum of the light projections. "You are each given a small garrison, limited supplies, and a hostile fortress to capture. There are no rules. You have twenty minutes to secure the central courtyard."

Zade stared down at his terminal screen. The blue light reflected off his pale, sharp features. His body still ached from the physical evaluation in the arena, but his mind was crystal clear.

Across the room, Xander sat casually in his seat. He tapped his terminal screen with fast, arrogant precision, a confident smirk resting on his lips. Xander had never lost a tactical war simulation in his life. The Vale family was known for its military genius, and Xander fully expected to claim another easy victory.

The simulation chime rang, and the war-table sprang to life.

Instead of charging his troops straight toward the fortress walls like the rest of the class, Zade paused. He studied the terrain map, looking past the obvious paths to notice a small, dried-up riverbed running along the eastern flank.

While Xander deployed his heavy vanguard to smash through the front gates, Zade divided his forces into three small, fast-moving strike teams.

He sacrificed a small group of foot soldiers at the western gate to draw the fortress archers away, creating a loud, chaotic distraction. At the same time, his second team moved through the eastern riverbed undetected, bypassing the primary defenses entirely.

On the main war-table, the light projections shifted rapidly.

Xander’s blue forces were crushing the front lines, clearing a path toward the courtyard with brutal efficiency. But just as Xander moved his commander unit to seize the center, a red alarm flared across the entire room.

Zade’s third strike team—a small squad of light cavalry—burst out from the fortress’s underground supply tunnels, cutting off Xander’s supply lines and encircling his main army from behind.

Gasps rippled through the classroom. Several students leaned forward in their seats, staring at the terminal screens in shock.

Xander’s smirk vanished instantly. His fingers flew across his screen in a desperate attempt to re-route his heavy forces, but Zade had already sealed the exit points.

Zade did not hesitate. He executed a swift, calculated flank, collapsing his hidden forces onto Xander’s trapped vanguard.

A harsh bell chimed throughout the hall, signalling the end of the simulation.

SIMULATION COMPLETE, the main glass table flashed in glowing green letters.

RANK 1: ZADE VARYN — TIME: 11 MIN 42 SEC

RANK 2: XANDER VALE — TIME: 11 MIN 48 SEC

The silence in the classroom was deafening. For the first time in Ironclad Academy’s history, Xander Vale’s flawless tactical record was broken—by an unknown student with no noble name.

Instructor Reyne tapped his ledger against his desk, a cold smirk touching his lips. "Impressive work, Varyn. Class dismissed."

Zade gathered his leather notebook, maintaining a calm, unbothered expression despite the wild pounding in his chest. He stood up and made his way toward the exit, ignoring the stunned stares and quiet whispers of his classmates.

He made it halfway down the narrow, stone hallway outside the classroom before a heavy hand slammed into the wall right beside his head, blocking his path.

Zade stopped in his tracks. He turned his head slowly to find Xander looming over him.

Xander’s face was tight with cold, dangerous rage. The gold buttons on his dark uniform seemed to rise and fall with his heavy breathing. He stepped even closer, completely invading Zade’s personal space until their chests were barely an inch apart.

"You got lucky," Xander spat, his voice dropping into a low, threatening growl. "You used a cheap, dirty trick."

"It’s called strategy, Vale," Zade replied smoothly, refusing to step back. "You focused so much on flexing your muscle that you forgot to protect your rear."

Xander’s blue eyes darkened, flashing with raw, predator fury. He leaned down, his broad shoulders casting a dark shadow over Zade, using his sheer height and Alpha presence to intimidate him.

"Don't get comfortable, new guy," Xander whispered, his breath hot against Zade's jaw. "I am going to tear down everything you build here. I'm going to make sure everyone sees what a fake you really are."

Zade met Xander's glare without flinching, but deep inside his throat, a sharp, agonizing burn flared to life.

His stomach twisted violently as his body, overwhelmed by the intense stress and close proximity to Xander's heavy Alpha pheromones, began to fight against the chemical suppressants in his blood.

A cold bead of sweat trickled down Zade’s neck. His lungs burned, and his heart hammered against his ribs like a war drum. His biology was threatening to burst through the artificial wall he had built.

Not now, Zade thought desperately, clenching his fists until his nails bit into his palms. Not here in front of him.

Zade forced his face to remain completely expressionless, hiding the blinding pain tearing through his muscles. He raised his chin, looking right into Xander's angry eyes with a icy, ruthless sneer.

"I'll be waiting, Vale," Zade said, his voice deadly quiet. "Try not to come in second place next time."

Zade shoved past Xander’s shoulder, walking down the stone corridor with steady, even steps, praying his legs wouldn't give out before he reached the safety of the shadows.