Emisarry Of Time And Space-Chapter 186: Start.

Orion almost thought his senses were lying to him.

They weren’t.

The moment the final arrangements settled and the countdown ticked closer to execution, his perception—already stretched wide across mana sense, Protocol, and Temporal Locus—caught on something that did not belong in the mental map he had constructed.

A presence.

Familiar.

Unwanted.

Impossible.

His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly as he shifted his focus, filtering through signatures the way one might flip through pages of a book already read. Most of the competitors radiated the dense, seasoned mana of adults. Twenty-somethings. Hardened. Trained. People who had already tasted failure and survived it.

And then—

There.

Alice.

The recognition was instantaneous and deeply unsettling.

For a strange reason, the thought of encountering her here had never crossed his mind. Even knowing that other noble families were participating, even knowing this was not an academy-exclusive affair, his mind had quietly dismissed the possibility.

It wasn’t entirely irrational.

All the other participants he had observed were well into their twenties. Mature builds. Stabilized mana signatures. Combat-hardened rhythms. This was not a place for adolescents.

Alice should be fifteen.

But then again... Orion grimaced inwardly.

She had always been talented.

Even back then.

And the last time he had checked her status—years ago, during a moment of grim curiosity—he had known one thing for certain: she was not ordinary. If qualifications were purely strength-based, then yes... she could be here.

That didn’t make it any less jarring.

His mind flickered back, unbidden, to the Ivory incident. The blood. The chaos. The look in her eyes that day—burned into his memory like a scar that refused to fade.

What was she doing here?

Before he could sink deeper into that line of thought, something tugged at the edge of his awareness.

Irelle.

Her gaze had snapped to him almost instantly.

She had been walking slightly to his right, posture composed, eyes forward. But the moment Orion’s focus wavered, she noticed. She always did. Of everyone here, she was the quickest to catch subtle shifts in him—his attention, his breathing, the way his presence tightened.

They were less than a minute away from deployment.

This was not the time for distractions.

She took half a step closer, clearly about to speak, when another voice cut in first.

"Oi, leader," Erevan called out, his tone light, teasing on the surface. "Something wrong?"

The teasing didn’t fool anyone.

Erevan’s eyes were sharp, fixed squarely on Orion. He had noticed it too. Everyone had, in their own way. For Orion to lose focus at a time like this was abnormal.

All eyes shifted toward him.

Orion’s gaze snapped back to the present. He exhaled slowly, letting the excess tension bleed off his shoulders.

"Nothing," he said, rolling one shoulder casually. "Just sizing up the competition."

It was a clean answer.

Too clean.

They weren’t stupid. Every single person here knew Orion well enough to recognize when he was omitting something. But if he chose not to elaborate, they trusted that it wouldn’t compromise the mission.

Well.

Most of them did.

"Meh," Daenys scoffed, arms crossed, lips curling into a smug grin. "They’re just overgrown weaklings. We can take them."

Orion glanced at her and smiled faintly.

It was hard to dislike someone as blissfully confident—and occasionally clueless—as Daenys.

Behind her, Galen visibly resisted the urge to facepalm. Arlen rubbed his temples. Selene sighed quietly. Even Thaddeus looked like he wanted to correct her and decided it wasn’t worth the effort.

The moment passed.

Orion’s expression sharpened, his focus snapping back into place.

As if responding to his intent, the bracelet on his wrist vibrated.

8:00 AM.

Exactly.

The signal pulsed once.

Then again.

Go.

"Let’s go," Orion said.

They vanished.

The group closest to them—another noble unit still preparing to surge forward—jerked in shock as the entire Chronos contingent disappeared at once. It was expected, in theory. Everyone knew what Chronos spatial manipulation looked like.

Seeing it, however, was something else entirely.

Thirteen people gone in an instant.

No sound.

No flash.

Just absence.

Orion and the remaining twelve reappeared deep within the Jade Forest.

The air changed immediately.

Thick.

Humid.

Heavy with mana that had seeped into the soil over centuries of jade mining and bloodshed. Towering trees rose like walls around them, their canopies so dense that sunlight struggled to break through. The forest floor was uneven, roots coiling like serpents beneath layers of moss and stone.

Dark.

Alive.

This had been the plan.

They were young.

They were obvious targets.

And they had limited information on their adversaries.

Charging in alongside the other groups would have been idiotic. As much as this was a competition, it was still a mission—and Orion had no intention of turning it into a brawl before understanding the terrain.

"Formation two," he said calmly.

They adjusted instantly, spreading just enough to avoid being clustered while maintaining visual overlap.

Orion scanned their surroundings quickly, then turned his attention inward.

"Reina."

She stepped forward immediately.

Reina was one of the four girls from the Combat Division, and arguably one of the most important members of their team. Her build was unassuming, her mana presence subtle—but her utility was unmatched.

She nodded once and raised her hand.

One by one, she tapped each of them lightly on the shoulder. 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

Her innate spatial skill activated.

Beacon.

Unlike Seris’ Spatial Anchor, which bound her to fixed points in space, Reina’s ability created a living link. A shared awareness. Each beacon holder gained a faint but constant sense of the others’ positions relative to themselves.

Distance.

Direction.

Presence.

Teleportation between beacon holders became smoother, less costly, more precise—but the burden rested on Reina. The more people linked, the greater the strain.

She didn’t complain.

She never did.

The moment the final link settled, Orion felt it—twelve threads tugging gently at his awareness. Not intrusive. Not distracting. Just... there.

"Done," Reina said quietly.

Orion nodded.

"Good."

They didn’t linger.

They had discussed this already.

Thirteen was too many to move as a single unit. It was an invitation for attention. For ambush. For being tracked.

Their strength wasn’t in numbers.

It was in precision.

"Same plan," Orion said. "We split."