Chapter 1280: No Spoilers!

But what did Jax know?

Contrary to what might’ve been the most dramatic internal crisis he’d experienced in quite some time, the Queen Bee in question apparently preferred that he go away for a bit!

Because while it might not have been obvious to everyone else, Isabelle had responsibilities of her own.

There was a hive to manage, a tight ship of humanoid children to run, and one particular Dada who required regular supervision, especially when he had the concerning habit of returning home carrying unfamiliar scents that neither she nor her bees recognized!

When the time finally came to explain everything to her, Jax was already down on his knees in front of his daughter, prepared to apologize and reassure her that he’d definitely come back.

"Izzie, Papa has to—"

A tiny clawed paw landed directly on the tip of his nose.

"?"

Jax went cross-eyed trying to look at it.

Isabelle stared solemnly at her father before giving him one very firm nod.

Then another.

Her meaning seemed remarkably clear.

Go.

And perhaps more importantly, stop looking so sad about it!

"Eh?"

The people watching stared.

Even Luca, who’d already been informed of Jax’s predicament and had spent quite some time feeling bad for his friend and his little family, found himself blinking in confusion.

He didn’t have children of his own just yet, but hearing about the problem had certainly made him realize there were apparently many more things to consider when he and Xavier eventually started properly planning their family.

Separation because of work or academic commitments was apparently one of them!

Except now the supposedly heartbroken baby looked like she was practically encouraging her father to leave.

Was that really what she meant?

Perhaps they were interpreting her gestures incorrectly?

Then Isabelle raised one little paw and began waving.

"..."

Oh.

Apparently not.

She’d clearly picked up the gesture from the other children, and there was absolutely no mistaking that goodbye.

Luca was confused.

Jax looked downright betrayed.

Thankfully, before the redhead could begin questioning whether his daughter had somehow gotten tired of him, Killian calmly stepped in.

"I already bribed her."

Jax’s head snapped toward him.

"Huh?"

To be fair, Killian wasn’t entirely certain whether his offer was actually responsible for Isabelle’s remarkable cooperation.

But for the peace of mind of this particular oaf, perhaps it was better to present it that way.

"A bribe?" Jax repeated.

"Remember when she wanted to go outside and we promised she could visit my office?"

Jax slowly nodded.

"I told her we could cash that in if she gets too bored while you’re away."

"What? Really?"

"If she spends some time outside, the days won’t feel nearly as long as they would if she stayed in here the entire time."

Jax’s expression immediately brightened.

That actually made sense!

Unfortunately, the moment the possibility of Isabelle spending more time outside was mentioned, several people nearby seemed to hear an opportunity.

"I work alone."

Count Alexander spoke first with such impressive speed that several heads immediately turned toward him.

"If Killian is too busy to take her, she can tour my workplace."

The other grandparents stared at him.

That opportunistic old fox!

"At the manor too!" Marquise Evelyn quickly added, unwilling to be left behind. "She can visit whenever she likes. We already redecorated a room for her!"

"..."

Jax slowly looked back toward his daughter.

Oddly enough, Isabelle seemed entirely amenable to these arrangements.

The little Queen Bee nodded thoughtfully before giving what looked suspiciously like a casual shrug, resembling an old lady reviewing an already very busy social calendar and deciding that yes, she could probably squeeze everyone in.

Jax’s mouth fell open.

Was he the only one struggling with this separation?!

Apparently, his daughter already had plans!

Still, the realization that Isabelle would be perfectly occupied while he was gone did make him feel considerably better.

In fact...

"Wait!"

Jax suddenly perked up.

"I can find some free time too! Maybe I can check in every now and then?"

He sounded wildly optimistic about the idea.

Surely they weren’t going to be busy every second of an entire week!

Maybe he’d get a break in the evening. Or perhaps there’d be some downtime between activities when he could quickly enter the dungeon space, check on his babies, make sure Killian was eating properly, and reassure himself that Isabelle hadn’t somehow replaced him with all four grandparents.

Unfortunately, before Jax could become too attached to that wonderful possibility, something rather strange happened.

Several of the older people exchanged looks.

More specifically, the graduates and apparent alumni of the Royal Military Academy.

Then, almost as one, they shook their heads.

Not hesitantly.

Not with the slightest bit of uncertainty.

They looked dead certain.

Jax’s hopeful smile slowly disappeared.

"Huh?"

__

So what did everyone else seem to know?

Well, apparently almost everything.

Almost.

Because what none of them could’ve predicted were the rather significant changes brought about by a certain guild displaying far too much competence for a group of first-year cadets!

See, the Royal Military Academy had a long-standing tradition for its freshmen.

Officially, it was known as the first-year immersion, an experience specifically designed to further train and give newly drafted cadets a much clearer understanding of what serving in the Empire’s forces would actually entail.

Unofficially?

It also gave the Academy an early opportunity to identify those who might truly be better suited for a different career path before they became liabilities on an actual battlefield. They wouldn’t necessarily be moved to different concentrations or transferred to other academies right away, but they would be flagged for closer monitoring for everyone’s safety.

But for something that monumental, how come not a lot of information was known about it?

Naturally, there was a reason none of the current freshmen seemed to know much about it.

Anyone who survi—went through their own immersion was strongly encouraged to keep the details to themselves.

No spoiling things for the younger students!

And surprisingly, people actually listened.

Then again, judging by how determined former participants were to preserve the secrecy, perhaps there was a certain amount of satisfaction in knowing that future generations would eventually have to experience the same thing, especially when the immersion wouldn’t work nearly as well if they came prepared. Surely, those who suffered in the past wouldn’t dare give them an advantage none of them had!

With that in mind, the unconventional preparations didn’t stop there. For the sake of fairness, the Academy usually scheduled the activity within a particular period close to the original start of the Astral Cup.

Most freshmen weren’t expected to participate in the Cup in the first place. On the rare occasion that cadets belonging to established legacy guilds were enrolled, however, the schedules were deliberately arranged so the two activities wouldn’t conflict.

As for everyone else?

At that stage, most freshmen weren’t even expected to have gotten qualifications to join a guild yet, so the immersion gave them something similarly demanding to occupy their time while the more experienced cadets were busy with the competition.

The exact date wasn’t announced too far in advance either.

Too much warning meant too much preparation.

And too much preparation opened the door to cheating, collusion, and every other creative method military cadets could possibly invent to gain an advantage.

Strangely enough, however, the students weren’t necessarily the greatest security risk.

Their families were.

Which was why one of the more unusual precautions involved keeping the specifics away from even the higher ranks of the actual military!

Because apparently, decorated officers could be trusted with highly confidential Imperial information, yet some of those same people became considerably less reliable the moment their own children, younger siblings, nieces, nephews, or other beloved relatives were involved in something exciting.

Suddenly, everyone wanted to know things!

Some might even become unusually interested in visiting the supposedly undisclosed location around the exact same time!

So every year, the committee responsible for the immersion was selected from a randomized pool of qualified personnel, specifically avoiding anyone with direct ties to the freshmen involved.

The location changed.

Certain rules changed with it.

And whatever scenario the cadets encountered was adjusted accordingly.

Still, despite those yearly differences, it was a tradition that seemed capable of uniting people across different departments, generations, and even factions.

Everyone had suff—enjoyed.

Therefore, everyone else should receive the same wonderful opportunity!

So what was the problem this year?