The canteen fell into silence.
The echo of Luca's words—"Hey, That's enough!"—still hung in the air like a blade drawn from its sheath. Forks paused midair, spoons clattered against bowls, and dozens of eyes turned to him. The laughter that had filled the hall moments ago was now replaced with tense murmurs.
Eric was already at Luca's side, his steps quiet but steady, his sharp gaze scanning the scene. He crouched down beside the fallen giant, carefully checking his condition.
The boy who had been pushed aside by Luca's interception scrambled to his feet, red-faced and furious. His voice cracked as he barked,
"Who the hell are you? Why are you interfering—"
Before he could finish, someone in the gathering crowd blurted out in a trembling whisper,
"H-hey… isn't that Luca Valentine? The one from Class A? The famous one?"
The name rippled through the crowd like a stone tossed into still water.
"Valentine…?"
"The prodigy from the weapon selection ceremony?"
"The one who—"
