Days passed.
Not dramatically.
Not violently.
But steadily.
Morning drills under cold Himalayan wind.
Afternoon lectures where mana theory tangled with mental exhaustion.
Evening formation combat inside the eastern colossal arena.
And sometimes—
Late-night duels against Professor Isha Kapoor.
Each time they requested.
Each time she agreed.
Each time—
They lost.
But the distance shortened.
On the third duel of the week—
Raivan's frost blade skimmed so close to Kapoor's shoulder that a thin strand of her sleeve was sliced cleanly.
Priya's flames forced her to shift position twice instead of once.
Manaswini's layered inscriptions lasted a full eight seconds under direct pressure.
And Avdhoot—
For the first time—
His mana blade brushed her palm.
Just barely.
A soft cutting sound.
Tck.
Kapoor's eyebrow lifted slightly.
"Better."
Then she rotated her wrist, redirected his momentum, and placed two fingers at his throat.
"Still insufficient."
He exhaled slowly.
Sweat rolled down his jaw.
But he smiled faintly.
He had touched her.
Next time—
He would push further.
High above the colossal walls.
Hidden within drifting silver mist.
Irawen Solas observed.
His eyes did not miss small things.
Breathing synchronization.
Reaction time improvements.
Unspoken communication forming.
Raivan's frustration is turning into discipline.
Priya's aggression is becoming controlled bursts.
Manaswini is learning to cast while repositioning.
And Avdhoot—
Holding something back.
Not obvious.
But restrained.
That restraint interested him.
Later that evening—
Inside Headmistress Velarna Dhar's office.
The tall windows overlooked mountain ridges layered in fading orange sunlight.
Solas stood before her.
"They are progressing," he reported calmly.
Velarna folded her hands on the desk.
"Expected."
"Raivan's frost control has stabilised under pressure."
"Good."
"Priya's impulse attacks have reduced."
Velarna nodded faintly.
"And Avdhoot?"
Solas paused for half a second.
"He grows at an even pace."
A subtle answer.
Velarna's gaze sharpened.
"Anything unusual?"
"No, ma'am."
Silence lingered.
But Solas added—
"However… I have a feeling."
Velarna tilted her head.
"A feeling?"
"This year's competition will move faster than we anticipate."
She did not dismiss it.
Instead—
"Increase wall patrols."
Her voice grew colder.
"Inform the Black Crops to double perimeter rotations."
"Yes, ma'am."
He vanished in silver mist.
Velarna remained alone.
The room is quiet.
Her fingers brushed the desk lightly.
"Lavanya Autade…"
Her voice softened, almost lost to the wind outside.
"Don't worry."
"I will protect the child."
The mountain breeze brushed the glass.
As if listening.
The academy bell rang.
Deep.
Resonant.
Weapon training.
Professor Kumaraj Rane stood waiting in the courtyard.
Broad shoulders.
A scar across his cheek.
Arms folded.
Brave Lions and Ember Fangs assembled.
His voice carried easily.
"Today, you choose steel."
He turned without ceremony.
"Follow."
They were led into the weapon storeroom.
The air inside smelled of polished wood and oiled metal.
Large wooden drums filled with:
Long swords.
Short swords.
Broad blades.
Heavy claymores.
Beside them—
Spears lined against the walls.
Daggers are arranged neatly.
Gauntlets reinforced with mana channels.
Bows and quivers.
Staves embedded with mana gems for amplification.
Even chain whips and crescent blades.
Students spread out immediately.
Excited murmurs.
Meira picked up a slender staff, testing its balance.
Priya slid reinforced gauntlets onto her arms.
Veer grabbed a polished longsword dramatically.
He held it upright.
"Main character energy," he declared confidently.
Avdhoot blinked.
"…Main character?"
"Yeah."
"What is that?" Akshay asked flatly.
"Like in anime or movies!" Veer explained.
Tara stared at him.
"What is anime?"
Veer froze.
"…You know. Hero stuff."
Tara crossed her arms.
"You should choose a weapon suited to your body, not your ego or some stupid fiction."
Veer scoffed.
"So you think I look cool with swords?"
She ignored him and walked toward the exit.
He stared after her.
"…That wasn't the reaction I wanted."
Avdhoot smirked quietly.
Professor Rane called them outside.
"All of you. Line up."
He walked slowly before them.
"I will ask three questions."
He raised one finger.
"First."
"Is your chosen weapon suitable for your body? Can you move it as an extension of yourself?"
Some students shifted uncomfortably.
Two quietly returned heavy swords to the drum.
He raised a second finger.
"Second."
"If your mana disappears, can you still fight with that weapon?"
That hit harder.
A bow user frowned.
A staff user reconsidered grip strength.
Tara looked directly at Veer.
"See?"
Veer swallowed.
"…I can fight without mana."
"We'll see," she muttered.
Third finger rose.
"Third."
"How do you determine your suitable weapon?"
Silence.
Then—
Meira raised her hand.
"Yes."
"A weapon becomes part of your body during combat," she answered calmly. "If you have a smaller build, short swords or lighter blades allow precision. Larger builds benefit from reach weapons like spears or heavier swords. It depends on how freely you can move."
Professor Rane nodded.
"Twenty points to Brave Lions."
Priya elbowed Veer lightly.
"Try listening sometimes."
He grumbled.
Professor Rane began walking among them.
Correcting grips.
Adjusting stances.
Switching weapons for certain students.
When he reached Avdhoot—
"You choose the dagger?"
"Yes, sir."
"Reason?"
"Close range allows faster reaction. Less swing arc. More adaptability."
Rane studied him briefly.
"…Good."
Veer leaned over.
"You're not changing?"
Avdhoot shook his head.
"I know this suits me."
Professor Rane stepped into the open space.
"Come at me."
Silence.
Then—
Priya lunged.
Gauntlets ignited.
She struck toward his back.
Boom!
Air burst outward.
Students blinked.
He had not moved.
Then—
In one motion too fast to follow—
He held her upside down by one leg.
"What you call an attack," he said calmly, "did not even tickle."
She kicked with her free leg.
He released her.
She flipped and landed cleanly.
"…Are all professors this freakishly strong?"
He chuckled.
"Let's begin."
One by one—
He tested them.
Sword group first.
Corrected foot placement.
Forced them to defend without mana.
Spears next.
"Distance is useless if you hesitate."
Gauntlet group.
"Your body is the weapon. Do not overextend."
Dagger group.
When Avdhoot stepped forward—
Rane attacked first.
Fast.
Heavy.
Avdhoot deflected narrowly.
Countered low.
Rane pivoted.
Tapped his shoulder.
"You hesitate before the second strike."
Avdhoot adjusted his grip.
Attacked again.
Better.
But still—
He was thrown aside.
Breathing heavy.
"Again," Avdhoot said.
Rane smirked faintly.
"Good."
Class ended two hours later.
Everyone exhausted.
Hands blistered.
Arms trembling.
But sharper.
Brave Lions' common room.
Warm lighting.
Wooden tables.
Soft murmurs from other members.
Veer slumped in a chair dramatically.
"My arms are dead."
Tara sat across from him with notes.
"You still owe me three correct answers."
He groaned.
"Can't you be gentle? Why are you like my mother?"
"If you answer correctly, I'll stop teaching like your mother."
"That's unfair!"
"Life is unfair."
He scratched his head.
"…Fine. Ask."
Meira sat beside Avdhoot.
She quietly asked her about mana circulation during physical strain.
He explained calmly.
Tara corrected Veer's pronunciation of inscription terms.
Neha passed by laughing.
"Haha… look at him suffer."
Veer pointed weakly.
"Traitor."
Avdhoot watched them.
Listened to the noise.
The laughter.
The complaints.
The small arguments.
He turned slightly toward the window.
The mountains outside were dark silhouettes under an early night sky.
He smiled softly.
In his mind—
"Aai…"
A warm memory flickered.
"What do you think?"
"Aren't they all super energetic?"
He chuckled to himself.
For a moment—
Competition.
Sabotage.
Pressure.
All faded.
They were just students.
Laughing.
Training.
Growing.
Unaware—
That somewhere in the academy—
Inside a dimly lit chamber—
A figure watched a floating mana screen.
Observing.
Calculating.
"This competition…"
A faint smile curved in the dark.
"Let us see what you do this time."
The light dimmed.
And outside—
The wind brushed the academy walls.
Quiet.
But watchful.
[End of Chapter 26]