Chapter 19: Chapter 19 – Where Did This Fool Come From

Son of the Blood ClanWords: 5077

Chloe had no idea that, upon entering the academy, she had already been branded a abnormal by her chief instructor. In truth, she was simply fascinated by the whip in Ren Yunying’s hand.

She had always harbored a special fondness for cold weapons, and this whip—so exquisitely crafted and ingeniously designed—utterly captured her gaze. She could not tear her eyes away until Ren Yunying, unable to bear it any longer, called her name directly.

“Chloe.”

Ren Yunying’s voice carried a low, husky timbre, magnetic and easily recognizable.

At the sound of her name, Chloe lifted her head at last. Her delicate face was pale and flawless, and she answered crisply, “Here!”

Ren Yunying’s expression was somewhat complex. After a moment’s hesitation, she finally gave a reluctant nod. “Not bad. You at least know how to respond when called—shows a hint of discipline.”

With that, she gave the whip in her hand a deft flick, coiling it up before tucking it firmly into the holster at her waist.

The disappointment that flickered across the girl’s face was visible to the naked eye.

Ren Yunying: “…”

She decided she couldn’t stay among the vampires any longer. Turning on her heel, she strode to the head of the human formation and gestured with a curt wave.

“Follow me.”

The young cadets, visiting the First Military Academy for the first time, obediently trailed after her. Each of them assumed they were being led to their dormitories, though their excitement dimmed as they passed the academy’s austere buildings.

But Ren Yunying had no intention of leading them to their rooms. Instead, she took them straight to the training grounds.

Unlike the rest of the island’s simple facilities, the training field was magnificently constructed—vast, fully equipped, with a five-thousand-meter track and a grass field filled with an array of exercise apparatus.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Ren Yunying, a whistle dangling from her lips, paced slowly before the assembled youths.

“You see this track? Five kilometers. If you fail to complete it within twenty-five minutes, you’ll lose your right to eat or sleep tonight.”

A murmur of alarm rippled through the group.

Five kilometers—in twenty-five minutes?

They exchanged uneasy glances. Before arriving, their families had indeed arranged some physical training, but nothing so grueling. For most of them, such a distance bordered on impossible.

All except, perhaps, the werewolves.

Their physiques were extraordinary for their age—tall, broad-shouldered, their muscles already well defined. They cracked their knuckles in anticipation, eager to prove themselves after the earlier humiliation.

Ignoring the rising chorus of complaints, Ren Yunying instructed each group to line up at the starting point. Then she dragged over a chair, crossed one leg over the other, and blew sharply on her whistle.

The moment the sound pierced the air, the cadets bolted forward.

After what they had witnessed earlier, none dared risk another lesson from the whip.

The werewolves, with their long legs, sprinted out first—each stride spanning three of another’s. Within seconds, they had vanished down the track.

The human children, mostly from military families, ran with steadier rhythm—young, but already accustomed to endurance.

Lagging behind were the vampires and the elves.

The elves, predictably, struggled the most—their aristocratic upbringing had kept them far from labor. Their faces flushed scarlet, breaths ragged, wings trembling as they fought to keep pace.

The vampires, though physically strong by nature, had been spoiled by privilege. They ran while swearing under their breath, their voices full of irritation.

Chloe and Anderson led their group, running at the head of the vampire line. She spoke little, setting a steady pace at first—neither too fast nor too slow. After five hundred meters, she began to accelerate.

The curses behind her faltered. Gritting their teeth, the others followed.

Another three hundred meters, and she sped up again.

The line of vampires tightened, silent now except for the pounding of feet and the sound of labored breathing.

When Chloe sensed that they had adapted to the rhythm, she suddenly burst forward, sprinting at full speed.

The others stumbled for a heartbeat, then scrambled after her like a flock of fledglings chasing their mother hen.

Vampires were a race steeped in hierarchy—absolute obedience to those above was etched into their bones. Such a structure demanded a leader who was decisive, intelligent, and formidable.

Ren Yunying, watching from her chair, had already taken note of Chloe. Strange temperament aside, the girl’s composure and strength were undeniable. Her pacing was intentional—giving her team time to adapt before pushing their limits.

Had she sprinted from the start, the fledglings would have burned out quickly. But this way, they were forced to grow into her rhythm.

After a thoughtful pause, Ren Yunying made a small tick besid