Chapter 223: Sound
Hale, seeing the eagerness etched upon their faces, gave a single approving nod before turning. He extended a hand toward the forest looming before them, its vastness breathing both mystery and threat, as he spoke in a calm, steady tone.
"This place will be our classroom. Within these woods lie paths, predators, and places to vanish without a trace. Stealth is not merely the art of hiding. It is the discipline of control, control of sound, control of presence, control of attention. Master these, and you master survival itself. Fail, and you forfeit your life before the battle has even begun."
His words hung heavy in the air, each syllable a warning sharpened into truth. Without offering further explanation, Hale stepped into the forest. His movements carried an unnerving calmness, the kind that seemed to declare the woods his domain. Each stride he took was fluid, silent, and deliberate, a quiet proclamation that the forest itself bent to his presence.
The students, startled at first, quickly followed after him. But unlike their instructor, their entry into the forest was loud and clumsy. The crunch of boots against fallen leaves, the snapping of brittle twigs, and the rustling of brush betrayed their every step. What was meant to be cautious movement instead echoed like the march of a careless battalion.
They had not gone more than ten paces before Hale stopped abruptly. He turned toward the crowd trailing behind him, his expression unreadable, though his dark eyes bore into them with quiet disdain.
"I could have killed each of you ten times over the moment you stepped foot into the forest," he said flatly. His tone was brisk, not angry, but it carried a weight that forced their hearts to sink.
A nervous wave spread among the students. Some swallowed hard, their throats suddenly dry. Others avoided his gaze entirely, their cheeks flushed with shame.
"Lesson one: Sound," Hale declared, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. He pointed to the ground beneath them. "The forest speaks. Every step you take, every brush of your clothes, every breath you exhale, it leaves a signature. You must learn to walk without sound, to erase your presence until you are less noticeable than a whisper. Watch closely."
He moved then, stepping backward with precision. His feet pressed gently into the soil, rolling from the outer edge of his foot inward, distributing weight evenly before lowering the heel. Each motion was fluid, each step calculated, his toes cushioning the descent with the grace of instinct refined by endless repetition. The leaves beneath him shifted only slightly, making less noise than a drifting breeze.
Then, with almost unnatural fluidity, Hale crouched low and slid sideways into the brush. His gray garments caught the shadow, merging with the forest so seamlessly that his figure seemed to dissolve. One blink, and he was gone.
The students stiffened, eyes darting frantically across the treeline. They strained to spot him, but the forest revealed nothing. Even Asher, whose Omni Perception and Perfect Astra Control had granted him superiority in numerous situations, felt momentarily blind. The woods swallowed Hale whole, leaving no trace of his passing.
Then, just as unease began to fester, a voice came from behind them.
"You see me only when I allow you to."
The entire group whirled around, startled. Their eyes widened as they found him standing a few paces behind them, utterly unbothered, his arms folded loosely across his chest. He had circled them entirely without a single one noticing.
"You will practice the same," Hale continued. His tone brooked no argument. "Form lines. Each of you will walk five paces forward and back until you can do so without clumsy noise. Begin."
The students exchanged glances but did not hesitate. In an instant, the forest floor came alive with their awkward attempts. They lifted their legs high, pressed too heavily into the ground, or shuffled uncertainly, the crisp crunch of leaves and twigs echoing louder than they intended. The once quiet forest quickly grew noisy with failed efforts.
Hale prowled among them like a phantom, his steps silent even as he moved openly within sight. Every so often, his hand shot out to tap a shoulder sharply, accompanied by curt reprimands.
"Too heavy," he snapped at one boy whose boots dug mercilessly into the soil.
"Your breathing is thunderous," he chastised a girl, whose ragged breaths drew more attention than her steps.
"Lift and place with intent. Do not drag your feet like a corpse."
His voice was not loud, but it carried the authority of someone who had lived what he taught. The students, humbled and frustrated, tried again and again, struggling to suppress their instinctive movements.
When Asher’s turn came, he did not strain as the others did. He took one step, and the forest floor remained quiet, the leaves beneath him still and undisturbed. He took another, this time deliberately stepping onto a dry leaf, yet not a sound emerged. His movements flowed so naturally that it was as though he did not exist in the physical world at all.
The truth was simple. On the day he had merged with the Absolute Physique, one of the first things he had instinctively gained was the ability to walk in silence. His Perfect Muscle Memory and Optimal Movement Efficiency had both operated in tandem, refining his every motion to perfection on that day.
Where others had to learn, Asher simply was. To him, this was not a skill, it was merely walking.
And so, while the rest of the class sweated, stumbled, and cursed their lack of progress, Asher walked casually, each step vanishing into silence.
The contrast did not go unnoticed. Envy and awe flickered in the eyes of his peers. He had dominated Instructor Melissa’s Astra Control class effortlessly, displaying feats beyond their comprehension. And now, in the Stealth and Infiltration training, he repeated the same pattern, turning the impossible into casual routine.
’Has the Wargrave already drilled the Tenth Sun with the entire Star Academy curriculum before his arrival?’
The thought rippled through many minds at once. To them, it was the only explanation that made sense. For what else could justify his flawless execution, when they all had started from the same point and entered the Academy on the same day?
Hale’s sharp gaze fell on Asher, studying him from head to toe. He searched for signs of trickery, for traces of an ability or a hidden technique. But he found none. Asher’s silence was not borrowed from an ability, nor from Astra, it was innate. The instructor gave a slow, thoughtful nod before turning his attention back to the others.
The hours that followed were merciless. Hale drilled silence into their bodies without pause, his patience reserved only for discipline. It did not matter if a student staggered with exhaustion or fell close to collapse, Hale demanded more. Some attempted to lighten the burden with abilities, manipulating air currents or muting vibrations to cheat the lesson. Each time, Hale caught them instantly and punished them on the spot.
"If you can learn this and then enhance it with your abilities later, you will become deadly beyond measure," Hale intoned coldly. "But if you rely on abilities from the very beginning, what happens when your Astra runs dry? You will be loud, clumsy, and helpless. And then, you will die."
Among the students, certain individuals fared better than others. Darissa, whose bloodline affinity was linked intricately to sound, adapted with surprising ease. Without activating any ability, her natural sensitivity to resonance and vibration allowed her to move with a grace that made others green with envy. She did not cheat; she simply possessed talent sharpened by nature itself.
"You rely on your eyes," Hale corrected another group, his tone sharp. "But not on your ears. The ground speaks before you step, listen. Anticipate. Respect the whispers of the earth."
The forest became their teacher, every rustle and snap a punishment, every moment of silence a small victory.
And though this was merely their first lesson, they understood one thing clearly: mastery would not come quickly. They had a full year to learn stealth and infiltration, but today was only the beginning. The fundamentals, the very basics of silence, would remain their battlefield until every misstep was burned out of their bones.