Sylvara's Rebirth: A New Dawn for Abel novel Chapter 68

**Chapter 68: Laws**

Auren let out an exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes dramatically. “How am I supposed to answer that?” His voice dripped with exasperation, as if the very question posed to him was an absurdity beyond comprehension.

Carlos, ever the instigator, wore a mischievous smirk on his face. “It’s simple, really! Just ask Aslan to switch the feed on the optical computer. I want to see all the freshman chiefs. What if the commander’s wife is one of them?” His eyes sparkled with a mix of curiosity and mischief, the prospect of seeing someone of importance igniting a thrill within him.

Auren, caught in a mix of annoyance and concern, smacked Carlos lightly on the head. “Even if she is, do you really think you’d recognize her?” he shot back, a hint of disbelief coloring his tone.

Carlos ducked away, rubbing the spot where Auren had struck him. “Maybe not her face,” he admitted, a playful grin still plastered across his features, “but I’d definitely recognize her hands.” His gaze fell to Auren’s wrist screen, and suddenly, his voice burst forth, laced with excitement. “Hey! Ms. Feywin is a chief!”

Auren’s head snapped around, eyes darting to the feed. Sure enough, there she was—Sylvara, the very image of nonchalance. No mental energy to speak of, H-grade physical stats. How on Earth had she managed to become a chief? The thought was puzzling, even infuriating.

“Are your mechas cleaned yet?” The voice that cut through the air was cold, mechanical, and undeniably ominous. Agares.

Both men froze, their previous banter evaporating in an instant.

Auren was the first to regain his composure. He shot up straight, heels clicking together instinctively, and pointed at Carlos as though he were a hazardous material. With a flourish, he raised his wrist, activating the optical computer, and began to unload blame with the finesse of a seasoned diplomat. “Mr. Vaelor, it was Carlos! He won a prize during the commander’s wife’s livestream yesterday. Today’s the academy’s opening ceremony, and he thought the commander’s wife must be one of the freshman chiefs. So he begged me to pull strings and get a live feed.”

“I had no choice!” he continued, his voice rising in pitch. “I asked my old classmate Aslan for help. He’s in Agriculture, so he set it up. This isn’t my fault!”

Carlos, still processing the rapid turn of events, stared at Auren, his mouth agape. What was happening? He was the one who had insisted they watch! He had even boasted about his classmate being the chief of the Agriculture Department and how they could stream the ceremony live!

Agares’ black eyes narrowed, his expression darkening as he focused on the screen, where Sylvara remained frozen in time.

She lounged in a dark brown combat uniform, exuding an air of ownership over her surroundings. Beside her sat the Mecha freshman who had recently made headlines by smashing a three-headed dog into the ground.

Too close for comfort. The proximity was unsettling enough that Auren felt an involuntary shiver run down his spine, as if their breaths could intertwine.

Sweat began to bead on Auren’s forehead as Agares continued to scrutinize Sylvara’s image. In the background, Issac’s voice droned on, boasting about some irrelevant achievement.

“Mr. Vaclor… Ms. Feywin is the Agriculture chief. Aslan personally selected her,” Auren whispered, his voice barely above a breath, dread pooling in his stomach.

Of course, Aslan would pick someone with no mental energy and abysmal physical stats to lead. Only he had that kind of audacity.

Agares lifted his eyelids slowly, a flicker of anger igniting in the depths of his dark eyes. His voice was as cold as ice. “Tell Aslan this—Ms. Feywin’s husband serves in the Hunting Legion.”

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