The last embers of Ron's fiery assault faded into the air, and the training hall finally grew still. The broken dummies smoldered faintly, the scorched stone carrying the scent of charred wood and smoke.
Zane's eyes slowly swept across the gathered students. His hands rested behind his back, expression unreadable. The silence weighed heavier than any spell they had cast.
He had spoken nothing during their displays—only the rare, subtle nod to a select few. To the rest, not even a glance of approval.
Now, after what felt like an eternity to the students, Zane finally broke the silence. His voice was calm, even casual, yet it carried through the entire hall without effort.
"Alright," he said, "I understand your abilities."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd—some relieved, others tense. Those who had earned the rare nod straightened their backs with pride. The ones who hadn't shifted uncomfortably, a mix of frustration and shame brewing in their hearts.
