Seven Sins System Chapter 681. Are We Your Adorable Cannon Fodder?
Seven Sins System Chapter 681. Are We Your Adorable Cannon Fodder?
The door hissed open.
I stepped inside.
And there they were.
Barry was the first to notice me. Leaning back with his spear across his lap like he was posing for a war magazine.
“Doc,” he grinned. “You’re late.”
“I’m not late,” I said, dragging myself into the seat beside the monitor. “They added a surprise meeting. Don’t blame me just because you finished early.” I eyed his spear. “No weapons in the vehicles!”
“Sure, sure,” Barry said, his spear disappeared, nudging Ion. “Always with the excuses.”
Ion, lounging with one leg up like a smug fox-shaped prince, smirked. “What’d they say? Did we get something? Or are we still your adorable cannon fodder?”
“Still cannon fodder,” I muttered, powering on the monitor with a tap. “Just slightly better-informed cannon fodder now.”
Evie looked up from tying her cloak, ears flicking once. “Did something happen?” she asked, and her voice had that softness. Like when someone knew something wasn’t right—but didn’t want to make you say it.
I shook my head. “Nothing major. The mission’s still basic. Just some extra support instructions.”
The male trio grinned like idiots. Darren even gave a low whistle.
And I gave them my best unimpressed look. Deadpan. Unamused.
“At least for me,” I added flatly, “not for you. You guys are still students. I’m the one who has to make sure none of you gets eaten or impaled.”
All three of them deflated at once. Like popped ego balloons.
Evie covered her laugh with the back of her hand. Claire rolled her eyes but didn’t say a word. Classic team leader energy—observing, judging, secretly amused.
“Alright,” I said, tapping the display.
The screen flickered. A 3D map of the operation zone lit up in pale green—ridges, ravines, mana-flow paths, and designated mission grids.
I pointed.
“The place name is Shadowrae Hollow. Sector C, north ridge. That’s our playground.”
Barry leaned forward. “Sounds cool.”
“It won’t be,” I said. “We’re leading suppression and cleanup. That means we sweep the burrows, maintain formation, and keep ourselves from dying. "
Ion raised a hand. “Define ‘ourselves.’”
“You. Me. All of us,” I said dryly. “Try not to trip over your own ego.”
Darren muttered, “Didn’t Barry fall into a mana sinkhole last semester because he was chasing a squirrel?”
“It looked like it had loot!” Barry called from the back.
Claire sighed. “We still had to file a report. ‘Cadet Injured During Unauthorized Pursuit of Unverified Magical Rodent.’”
“Exactly,” I said, deadpan. “That’s why I need you five sharp. This forest doesn’t care that you passed your last exam. It's still pissed, it still bites, and it will kill you if you let it.”
I swiped the monitor and zoomed in on our assigned sector.
“Primary targets: Fangmaws and any displaced Timberfiends. Those things nest in collapsed burrows, and they’ll be cranky if the flow’s shifted again. We keep them clear of student patrols.”
I flicked to the southern path, highlighting a red line.
“High chance of Windclaw and Thornling clusters near here. The students might run into them while doing formation drills. If they scream or run—well. They’ll die.”
Evie raised a brow. “That’s encouraging.”
“Hey,” I said. “I’m nothing if not honest.”
I tapped again.
Monster visuals loaded on screen.
“Windclaws,” I said, pointing at the first. “Agile, lanky, bird-cat hybrids. Think if a housecat and a falcon had a caffeinated baby with rage issues. Fast, sharp talons, and an annoying tendency to boost their speed when you think you’ve landed a hit.”
“They sound cute,” Ion said.
“They are cute,” Darren added. “Until they rip open your calf.”
Claire shook her head.
“Exactly,” I said. “Don’t underestimate ‘cute.’”
Next visual.
“Thornlings. Plant-based ambushers. They sit motionless in the brush for ten, sometimes fifteen minutes just to land a single strike. Usually a thigh or lower back—places that hurt, bleed a lot, and mess up movement.”
“Lovely,” Barry muttered.
“Don’t scream,” I said again. “If you scream? You alert three more.”
“Don’t scream, don’t die,” Ion echoed, making a note in his sketchpad. Probably drawing something snarky. “Got it.”
“Any questions?” I asked.
Barry raised a hand.
“No, you cannot name the Timberfiends,” I said before he could speak.
He lowered it with a groan. “You suck, Doc.”
“I save your life,” I said. “Sucking is part of the job description.”
Evie laughed. Claire tried not to.
Darren just leaned back, one leg over the other. “So what’s our timeline?”
“We land at point C1 in an hour,” I said, sliding a glyph. “You get five to prep. I’ll assign students into clusters. Claire—you’re primary lead. The rest of you will rotate overwatch, rear guard, and magical support.”
Claire nodded once. “Understood.”
I paused.
And yeah—I looked at them. One by one.
Barry, still smirking like he had a joke ready.
Ion, confident and lazy in equal measure.
Darren, sharp-eyed and quiet, but dangerous when he wanted to be.
Claire, the backbone. Always calm, always ready.
Evie, bright and eager, fire and wind dancing around her fingertips even when she wasn’t casting.
They were young.
But they were mine.
I sighed.
“Look,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “You guys joke around a lot. I get it. You’re strong. Talented. But this forest? It doesn’t give a damn.”
They quieted.
“This isn’t a game,” I continued. “You mess up, you bleed. You hesitate, you die. I trust you. But don’t get cocky. Don’t let your pride be their funeral.”
No one spoke for a beat.
Then Barry nodded. “Got it, Doc.”
Darren looked out the window. “We’ll watch each other.”
Claire’s voice was steady. “We always do.”
Outside, the academy parking lot buzzed with movement. Other squads were climbing into their own transports. Instructors gave last-minute checks. Mana-reactive lights blinked softly along the pavement, marking each vehicle’s ID rune.
The intercom crackled above us.
“All personnel, final boarding complete. Departure in five minutes. Estimated arrival to operation zone in one hour. Please remain seated and secured.”