Sylvara's Rebirth: A New Dawn for Abel novel Chapter 127

**The Third Signature by Mark Twain**
**Chapter 127: Bedroom Pics**

6%

Finished

“Still, don’t you find it peculiar?” Veyric paused, his brow furrowing with concern. “In our previous training sessions, even during practical drills, they never disclosed the number of personnel deployed, nor did they indicate where the traps were hidden.”

“Now, everything’s labeled. Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”

When circumstances escalate to such an extent, it’s a clear sign that something is amiss.

Sylvara raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his line of thought.

This hefty fellow, when he turned serious, revealed a surprising depth of intelligence—he was astute, particularly when it came to academic matters.

“I can’t speak to how training was conducted in the past,” she replied thoughtfully. “What I do know is this: the distinction between hunter and prey won’t become apparent until the very last moment.”

“Then which path should we take?” Veyric queried, pointing at the five shortcuts marked on their map. “I’ll follow your lead.”

Sylvara fell silent for a beat, contemplating their options. “We should already be well ahead of the others. Our best course of action is to loop around and take the route right beneath us.”

Veyric glanced down at the spot where she had stomped her foot. “But this path isn’t on the map. If it’s unmarked, won’t others think of it too?”

Sylvara’s expression turned serious. “Listen closely, kid. You’re missing the point. To the students from the First, Second, and Third Academies, they all believe they are the chosen ones, destined for greatness.

“Winning the freshman training not only brings them glory but also fame throughout the Troya Empire. They’re bound to take risks and opt for shortcuts.”

“What we need to do is avoid their reckless paths, reach our destination before they do, and lie in wait near the finish line.”

Veyric’s eyes widened in realization, his voice trembling with excitement. “So, you mean we let them grab the nameplates and patches first, and then we wait near the end and swoop in to take everything?”

Sylvara chuckled darkly, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Exactly. We’ll take a detour now, conserve our energy, avoid any direct confrontations, and then strike at the end. It’s a simple plan.”

The closer they got to the finish line, the more nameplates and patches they would accumulate. A single, significant haul would far outweigh the effort of picking off competitors one by one.

Veyric rolled up the map with determination. “I’m in. I’ve had my rest. Let’s get moving.”

Sylvara shot him an approving glance, her eyes lingering on a large smear of blood nearby as she patted his shoulder. “Good. Let’s go.”

With that, she took the lead, following the chaotic trail of footprints and bloodstains left behind. A thought nagged at her—was the third-party hunting of mutant beasts the underlying flaw in this training? Would capturing them earn them valuable points?

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