The academy grounds were already alive.
Clusters of students trained in open fields, some sparring, others practicing abilities in controlled bursts. The air carried the sound of impacts, shouts, and energy discharges.
Jelo walked through it all calmly.
His presence didn't go unnoticed.
Whispers followed him.
"That's him…"
"He beat Nylen yesterday…"
"Yeah, I heard it wasn't even close…"
Jelo ignored them.
His eyes moved from one group to another—not searching for noise, not for attention.
For strength.
Then—
A sharp crack echoed across the field.
Jelo's gaze shifted.
At the far end of the training grounds, a small crowd had formed. At its center stood a tall boy, broad-shouldered, with a calm but imposing stance. The ground around him was fractured, small craters marking where strikes had landed.
Opposite him, another student staggered backward, breathing heavily.
"I'm done," the student said, raising his hands.
The tall boy lowered his fist.
"Good choice."
