Sylvara's Rebirth A New Dawn for Abel novel Chapter 137

**Chapter 137: Belly First, Then the Blade**

It was undeniable—caring too much could scramble one’s thoughts into a chaotic mess.

Sylvara couldn’t shake the feeling that her bargain-bin husband was not the type to be easily intimidated, especially not by a snake.

Yet, in her rush of emotions, she had completely overlooked a crucial question: why had he even shown up here in the first place?

She had just revealed her identity, her heart racing with anxiety, and still, the thought of asking why he wasn’t on Kolar planet, or what had drawn him to this place, hadn’t crossed her mind.

Veyric, with an easy familiarity, draped an arm around Sylvara’s neck as if they were old friends, and in a conspiratorial whisper, he said, “Consider this, Sylvara. We have five Military Academies all participating in joint training. Two hundred thousand fresh recruits, three hundred thousand upperclassmen, not to mention ten thousand instructors.

“Three hundred and ten thousand against our measly two hundred thousand. What do you think their intentions are? They clearly aim to wipe us out completely.”

“Wipe us out? I’m only a second-year,” Sylvara interjected, her brow furrowing in confusion. “I’m just here to fill the numbers.”

Veyric flashed a cunning smile. “Sure, you’re just a stand-in, but you’re with me. You don’t count towards their total score. And those upperclassmen and instructors? They won’t hesitate to take you down.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve got a point.” Sylvara rolled her eyes, but her mind was already racing with thoughts of strategy. “Maybe I’ll just take out the Commander. He’s surrounded by so many people. If we manage to eliminate him, we’d be dead for sure. Instead, why don’t we infiltrate first? We need to see what they’re really up to.”

Veyric’s expression shifted to one of annoyance, mixed with a hint of scorn. “You’re not just naive; you’re completely out of touch. If you walk up to them and start asking questions, they’ll shoot you on sight.”

But something felt amiss.

Sylvara shrugged off Veyric’s arm and turned her gaze toward the lakeside, where Agares was engaged in conversation with his subordinates.

Her mind drifted back to the blood of the mutant beast.

And that terrifying roar.

Agares and his crew likely weren’t the “bug” in this training exercise.

They lacked shoulder tabs and nameplates.

They were probably here for a different purpose altogether—hunting mutant beasts.

“What if we infiltrate under the guise of food?” Sylvara suggested, her eyes darting to the massive winged serpent suspended in the air. A three-hundred-foot slab of meat—surely it would be a waste not to take advantage of it.

She didn’t approach them. Instead, she walked toward where the wing of the fallen winged serpent lay, but before she could crouch down, a saber appeared before her, blocking her path.

Sylvara looked up to find Agares standing there, his expression unreadable, his dark eyes as deep as the abyss itself, fixed on her. “That blade is already yours. It belongs to you now.”

“No need for that, Your Highness,” Sylvara replied, pushing the weapon back toward him. “Your blade stands out too much. If I use it and someone sees, they’ll start making guesses. I don’t want to become a target and compromise my cover.”

Agares’s dark eyes flickered with a hint of surprise. He took the saber back. “If that’s how you feel, Ms. Feywin, I won’t insist. I’ll find you another one. You’ve given me so many plants; I won’t let you go without.”

“It’s no trouble at all.” Sylvara winked at him, her demeanor lightening. “You and I are partners now. Sharing a few plants is just the right thing to do. By the way, those fruits—did they help calm your mental energy at all?”

Agares nodded, his expression softening slightly. “They were very effective. Thank you.”

“Good.” As she spoke, Sylvara squatted down, pulling a skinning knife from her spatial button. With a determined look, she pressed it to the severed wing of the serpent. “Your Highness, stand back. You wouldn’t want to get any blood on you.”

Agares frowned but didn’t step away, his gaze fixed on Sylvara as she expertly pressed the knife into the base of the wing.

With brutal efficiency, she lifted the blade, and with a swift motion, a bloody seam tore open along the wing, spilling forth a cascade of crimson.