Finally, the spell was beginning to fade. The swirling wind slowed, the wall of dust that had hidden everything inside settled grain by grain, and the crowd leaned forward in their seats, holding their breath.
This was the moment they had all been waiting for, the reveal.
Even Ibarin, seated high above in the honored box, looked up from where his chin had rested lazily against his hand. His lips curled into a confident smirk. In his mind, the outcome was already decided. After setback after setback, after being forced to grit his teeth through Wilton's repeated victories, the Central Academy's pride was about to be restored. Victory was within his grasp.
"Finally," Ibarin thought. "The Central Academy will prove once again that it is unrivaled. And if there are side effects from those pills… we'll dismiss them as temporary. An unfortunate consequence of training too hard. Nothing more. Nothing that cannot be explained away."
