Over a dozen kilometres away from the Academy of Accumulation, a creature swam through the sea water, slow in its motion. Gradually, its eyes emerged out of the water and stared in the Academy’s direction, pondering in silence.
It wanted to take action, having more than enough strength to destroy the Academy of Accumulation in a matter of minutes. However, when its senses peered far, past the Academy, it noticed a mountain slowly moving towards the Academy.
[Empyrean Snapper...!]
The mountain in question was the one that grew on the backs of Empyrean Snappers. And moving alongside the mountain were two ships, each stretching 280 metres in length. They were the Cooter Clan’s battleships.
The invasion by the Troitails wasn’t the Cooter Clan’s concern. The moment Principal Khakha decided to use the Troitails to temper the students, his decision was promptly conveyed to the Cooter Clan, well in advance to the Troitails’ entrance into the Academy.
The decision was approved before the first Troitail even landed on the academy grounds.
Empyrean Snappers typically remained immobile, unless something big happened to warrant their attention. The fact that one of them had made a move, while accompanied by two battleships meant something serious was happening at the place.
[Rereat! We aren’t yet strong enough to kill an Empyrean Snapper.]
The creature eyeing from the depths of the sea communicated with its brethren, all stretching dozens of metres in length, with a select few crossing a hundred metres.
The one in the lead reached a whopping 198 metres in length, emanating a presence powerful enough to make an Iron Grade Pranic Beast lose its mind in a matter of seconds.
[We’ll keep accumulating strength, and once we’re ready, Runthral will be ours to keep!]
Advanced Silver Grade Pranic Beast–Nirclick!
These creatures spanned dozens of metres in length, steadily invading and occupying local ecosystems.
And the ones that surpassed a hundred metres in length had mutated to enter the Gold Grade. The one at the very front, reaching 198 metres in length, had significantly progressed in strength through the Gold Grade.
The Nirclicks sank to the depths of the Tsloch Sea and morphed their appearances to resemble large boulders commonly found at the sea beds. In a matter of seconds, they didn’t have a presence, having hidden to the extent they wouldn’t be registered in any Prana detection means.
Academy of Accumulation!
Hidden within the misty dome were Principal Khakha and the rest of the Academy’s Instructors. They were observing the situation at play and recording their analysis in Information Slips.
"Almost everyone has entered the Dorm now." Principal Khakha announced his decision as he eyed three Instructors, "The three of you stay here and keep a note of the performance of the stragglers."
"The rest," He moved the misty dome in sync with his movements, "Follow me to the Dorm."
Mist spread around their position, impenetrable by the attacks of the nearby Troitails. Swiftly, a wave of water carried them towards the Dorm.
Once they were in closeup, Principal Khakha observed the erected line of defence, commenting upon seeing a slide made of water by the combined efforts of dozens of students, and rolling down the slide were boulders carved out of the stone walls, "Impressive, aren’t they?"
Seeing the boulders slam into the incoming Troitails one after another, Principal Khakha chuckled, "It’s unfortunate many students died. However, the ones that survived are significantly stronger than before."
"This is exactly what it means to be fit for survival." He announced upon seeing a group of students jump from the Dorm’s ceiling to land on a Troitail and promptly wrestle control of its scales.
And then, they exploded the water within the scales onto the nearby Troitails. And once they completed their sneak attack, a stream of water arrived from the top, wrapped around their bodies, and lifted them to the highest floor in the Dorm.
Gong!
While the Instructors commented praise about the Students, the sound from a loud, overbearing horn rattled their bones. It was followed by sounds resembling splashes of water.
The splashes weren’t frequent, having a strange rhythm. It came from one of the battleships. Upon hearing the sounds, Principal Khakha frowned, "Let’s end this training exercise here."
"What?" One of the Instructors expressed his surprise, "But why? The students have just started innovating their retaliatory means."
"And they have yet to wipe out the Troitails."
"Clan orders," Principal Khaha barked, "Now, go!"
"Wipe out the Troitails!"
The Instructors moved out of the misty dome and began bombarding the Troitails.
C-Click!
A Troitail warned its brethren about the incoming reinforcements, only to be roasted by a sizzling hot mass of vapour that blessed across its spot. The individual was a Cooter Clansman sent by the battleship.
Calmly, he eyed the Troitails and announced, "Thirty minutes."
"I want them wiped out by then."
Mist enveloped the entire island in a matter of seconds, accompanied by bursting geysers of water across the place. The mist swirled around with power, damping sounds and emanating an omniscient presence that hindered the Prana detection means of the Troitails.
Every Troitail felt cut off from its brethren, no matter how close to each other they were. Unable to communicate and unable to detect anything, they helplessly sauntered to their doom.
Exactly ten minutes later, the mist dispersed, revealing the Troitail corpses covering the Academy grounds.
And then, a stream of flood gathered and bunched all the corpses, from where they were loaded onto the battleship that had docked at the Academy’s entrance.
Soon, an army of Cooter Clansmen gathered before Principal Khakha, silently maintaining their positions. They wore loose-fitting gowns that trailed down their feet like a fish’s tail.
Once the mist dispersed, the bald heads of everyone shone in unison as a robustly-built man walked forward. His garments were significantly longer than the rest, with the extended fish-tail part alone stretching for a couple dozen metres.
A thin layer of mist formed layered beneath the clothes, preventing any dirt from latching onto them. With glinting eyes like a kid and an oozing presence brimming with killing intent, the man walked towards Principal Khakha.
"I greet the Raid Captain." Principal Khakha kneeled on the floor, showing his respects.
"The pleasure’s mine." The Raid Captain nodded with a soft smile. And then, with a concerned look, he asked, "I don’t have much time, so I’ll keep it short."
"My honoured son," The Raid Captain asked, "How was his performance against the Troitails?"
It was Raurau, father to Runthral and Boiboi.