Gaudia decided that she would be the first to speak after the silence stretched too long. Determination filled her face.
"I promise nothing we learned here will leave this room," she said firmly.
Sevran nodded right after her. "Same. Not a word. Not to anyone."
Dominic smiled at them and nodded with satisfaction.
Felix studied their faces one by one, then gave a slow, approving nod. "Good. Then we're all in agreement."
He turned toward the stacks of books and scattered notes filling his study. "Since your punishment hours aren't over yet, the three of you will stay here and study my notes."
Sevran blinked. "Study? Here?"
"Yes," Felix replied. "You'll read what you can understand from my notes and references. Don't force the difficult parts. My research isn't something you rush."
Dominic exchanged a glance with the others. This was nothing like detention.
They spent the next few hours buried in parchment and old tomes. Most of the material was dense, filled with symbols, theories that were not completed, and fragmented records.
Even so, some sections were surprisingly readable. Mentions of Labyrinth layers, failed expeditions, or even partial Archetype sightings, and warnings written in bold ink.
Time passed faster than they expected.
Eventually, Felix closed one of the books with a soft thud and said. "That's enough for now. It's lunchtime."
"Finally," Sevran said while stretching his stiff shoulders.
Felix allowed a small smile. "Go eat and after that, you'll head to your final lesson for today."
"What class?" Gaudia asked.
Felix's smile widened just a little. "Combat class."
All three of them straightened instantly.
"Combat class?" Sevran asked, his eyes lighting up.
"Yeah. The favorite of first-years," Felix confirmed. "Practical combat training."
Dominic felt a surge of excitement, and judging by their expressions, the others felt the same.
Then Felix turned his gaze to Dominic again.
"However," he said to him with a serious tone, "you won't be participating today."
Dominic's expression fell slightly. "What? Why?"
"We can't let the others notice your power," Felix said calmly. "Combat class draws too much attention."
Dominic sighed, clearly disappointed, but after a moment he nodded. "Yeah. I get it."
"Just observe for now," Felix added. "You'll still learn."
With that settled, Felix waved them toward the door. "Go. You'll be late if you linger."
The three of them stepped out of Felix's study and into the hallway, the door closing softly behind them.
Side by side, Dominic, Sevran, and Gaudia headed toward the cafeteria.
None of them spoke for a few seconds down the corridor. Their minds were filled with their own thoughts.
After a few moments of walking in silence, Dominic finally spoke.
"Hey," he said quietly. "Remember, we can't let anyone know what we did or talked about back there. Alright?"
"I'm not deaf. I heard everything Felix said," Gaudia replied coldly.
"Hey, you should try being a little friendlier if we want to work together properly," Sevran said while staring unpleasantly at the girl.
"Hmph," Gaudia scoffed. "This is only out of necessity. It doesn't mean I want to be in the same group as you."
"Well, guess what," Sevran shot back. "No one's forcing you to join either. But that's life. Sometimes you just have to agree with what's already happened and act decently so you don't make everyone around you uncomfortable."
Gaudia shot him a sharp glare, her eyes filled with clear hostility like before. But she didn't argue. Instead, she looked away and let out a loud sigh.
"Come on," Dominic said, cutting in before things escalated again. "Don't fight. If we run into that warden again, we might actually get a real punishment this time."
"Okay, okay," Sevran replied, raising his hands. He glanced at Dominic, clearly wanting to ask about his power again, but he held himself back.
Soon, they arrived at the cafeteria.
The academy's cafeteria was massive, with long stone tables stretching across the hall and high windows letting sunlight pour in.
The air was filled with overlapping voices, laughter, and the clatter of trays.
First-year students gathered in groups, some still in uniform, others with sleeves rolled up, animatedly discussing their recent classes, rumors, or something that sounded like Labyrinth excursions.
The scent of warm bread, roasted meat, and spiced soup lingered heavily in the air.
Dominic, Sevran, and Gaudia slowed their steps as they entered, blending into the crowd of students.
After they finished lunch, the three of them didn't linger. They followed the stream of students heading toward the final class of the day.
Their destination lay in a different part of the academy.
The instructor waiting for them looked exactly like the kind of person who would teach in a combat class.
He was tall and broad-shouldered, his physique packed with dense muscle that strained against his uniform. A thick mustache sat above his upper lip and his sharp fiery eyes scanned the students like a battlefield commander sizing up recruits. His brown hair was kept short, and when he spoke, his voice carried loudly across the area.
"Move it!" he barked. "No dragging your feet!"
"This guy…" Sevran muttered under his breath. "Yeah. Definitely a combat instructor."
The teacher led them to a towering structure set apart from the other academy buildings.
It rose high into the sky, ten stories tall. Its stone walls were reinforced with heavy metal bands.
"This is the Arena," the instructor said, stopping before a massive gate.
He pushed the gate open, and the class followed him inside.
They walked through a long dim corridor. The sound of their footsteps echoed against the stone. Then the passage opened up suddenly.
Before them stretched a vast sand arena.
The ground was layered with thick sand, scarred by countless footprints and impact marks.
The space was enormous, wide enough to host dozens of fighters at once.
Stone walls rose high around it, and above them were viewing platforms and reinforced balconies meant for instructors or officials, or audience.
Some students let out quiet whistles.
"This place is huge…"
The instructor stepped forward and turned to face them.
"My name is Gilderoy," he announced loudly. "Professor Gilderoy. And this is where you'll learn how to fight."
He spread his arms toward the arena. "This place isn't just for class. This is where students test their strength, settle grudges, and prove themselves. If there's no special event using it, we train here. As for my lessons, don't expect long lectures. Combat isn't something you understand by thinking and explaining too much."
He thumped his fist into his palm. "You think with your muscles!"
A few students chuckled.
Sevran, standing near the back, snorted. "Did he just say muscles can think?"
Several nearby students laughed quietly, nodding in agreement.
Gilderoy's sharp eyes flicked toward the sound.
Then he laughed.
"HA HA HA!" A deep booming laugh echoed across the arena.
"Good," he said, pointing straight at Sevran. "You find that funny?"
Sevran stiffened. "Uh—"
"You," Gilderoy repeated, finger still aimed at him. "Come forward."
The laughter died instantly.
Sevran stared at him, dumbfounded, as the students around him quickly stepped aside like parting sea, leaving him exposed.
"No," he said with a wide grin. "I'm about to show you exactly how muscles think."
—