[: 3rd POV :]
The afternoon sun bled through the clouds, its dim light stretching long and tired shadows across the cracked training ground behind the academy's western wing.
It was quiet there, too quiet.
A faint breeze moved the leaves, but the tension in the air was thick enough to choke on.
Fendrick stood alone.
His breath came slow, heavy, uneven.
He already knew why they'd called him out here.
He already knew who was waiting.
A soft crunch of boots on gravel pulled his eyes forward.
It was Leon, and behind him, four others wearing the same smug expression that nobles always wore when they thought the world belonged to them.
"Well, well," Leon said, his voice dripping with amusement.
"The dog finally shows up."
Fendrick clenched his fists.
His knuckles were already white before the first blow landed.
"You called me here, Leon. What do you want?"
Leon smirked and circled him like a predator that already knew the outcome of the hunt.
