Magnus lifted Kara into his arms and carried her to the healing room in the building, while Lusian, aching and worn down, made his way to his room, determined to rest and avoid anyone for the rest of the day. However, just as he was about to leave, he heard Emily's worried voice calling out to him.
—Lusian, are you okay? —she asked, her eyes full of concern.
—Yeah… I just need to rest for a couple of days —he replied, trying to keep his composure while hiding the pain from his broken ribs.
—Even though I'm still a novice, I think I can help you with the healing magic I've learned these past few days —Emily said, stepping forward timidly, yet with genuine determination.
Emily approached carefully, placing her hands over the injured area. She murmured the spell softly, and a faint blue glow wrapped around her palms. The healing warmth spread through Lusian's side.
And that was when something broke.
Not the pain—that remained—but the calm he should never have felt.
The touch was gentle. Precise. Honest. That was what unsettled him.
His body reacted before his mind: his muscles tensed, not from pain, but from an uneasy, almost superstitious certainty. As if that warmth—so much like a blessing—belonged to a moment that should not yet exist.
Because in the fate that awaited him, in the future steadily closing in, Emily would not be by his side when the world began to burn.
He clenched his jaw.
It wasn't fear of the wound.
It was fear of getting used to it.
—Thank you, Emily —he finally said, forcing his voice to sound normal—. Your help has been very valuable.
And it was.
That was exactly the problem.
Emily smiled softly and let him lean on her arm, guiding him slowly and carefully down the hallway, trying not to worsen his pain. Lusian moved with effort, but her presence made the burden a little lighter.
From a distance, Alejandro watched from the shadow of a column. His expression was a mix of restrained fury and poorly hidden jealousy. His hands tightened until his knuckles turned white, and his eyes followed every movement Emily made—every gesture, every word she shared with Lusian.
To Alejandro, it wasn't just an uncomfortable scene.
It was an affront.
And affronts… were paid back.
At the end of the week, the combat rankings began in classroom 1A.
The murmur of the students died down when Instructor Clara raised her hand. On the platform, Jaslin Erkham and Sandra The Mondring stood four meters apart. Neither spoke. Both understood that the silence was part of the test.
—Begin.
Sandra moved first.
Water surged violently, rising in a dense mass that blocked the ceiling light before crashing down like a living wave over Jaslin. The impact promised to sweep everything away.
Jaslin reacted just in time.
The air turned sharp. The water froze mid-advance, bursting into shards of ice that slammed against the platform with a dry crack. The rest scattered into a cold rain that soaked the ground.
When it ended, Jaslin was still standing… but breathing heavily.
Emily noticed immediately.
The spell had worked, yes—but his hands were trembling.
Sandra dropped to her knees seconds later. Part of her arm was covered in frost, her skin reddened and stiff. She didn't scream, but her expression said enough.
Emily felt a slight chill.
Blocking didn't mean coming out unscathed.
The platform was restored with a gesture from Clara.
—Next.
Emily stepped forward when she heard her name. Across from her, Summer Kesller was already gathering wind around her.
A sphere of light appeared above Emily's head, floating with forced stability. It was heavier than it looked. It always was.
The tornado rose with a growing roar.
The first bolt struck the air current and veered off, pulling a gasp from her. Emily clenched her teeth and adjusted the angle. The second hit was better. The third… painful.
She felt the energy draining from her arms, her chest, the very core of her focus.
I can't hold this much longer…
Summer wasn't in any better shape. The wind responded, yes, but her posture was starting to break, her feet sliding across the platform.
When she fell, exhausted, the silence lasted a full heartbeat.
Emily lowered the sphere of light and had to drop to one knee.
She had won.
But if the fight had lasted a few seconds longer… she wasn't sure she would still be standing.
The next match was different from the start.
Naomi Sneider and Abdel Brown didn't hesitate.
They attacked.
Fire consumed the platform. The heat forced several students to step back instinctively. Advanced flames collided, exploding into blazing columns that warped the air.
Naomi endured. Minor burns, ragged breathing—but still standing.
Abdel did not.
When he fell, the fire still clung to his body.
Clara intervened immediately.
Silence fell.
No one applauded.
Emily felt a knot tighten in her stomach as she watched Abdel being carried away, unconscious.
That had been dangerously close to something irreversible.
—Instructor! —Naomi exclaimed, still euphoric—. We're ready to face the knights and burn them to the bone!
Clara looked at her—not harshly, but without indulgence.
—A spell like that takes between ten and fifteen seconds to cast —she said—. A trained knight needs five to take you down.
Naomi opened her mouth… then closed it.
—Is the difference really that big…? —she murmured.
—Yes —Clara replied—. That's why if you rely only on power, you will die. This isn't about who casts the biggest spell, but who is still standing.
Emily swallowed.
For the first time, the idea of facing a knight didn't sound like a challenge.
It sounded like a threat.
At that moment, the announcement of the next duel echoed throughout the academy.
A knight versus a mage.
The murmur returned, heavy with anticipation. The students of class 1A moved toward the arena, knowing—though no one said it out loud—that what they were about to witness would not be a lesson.
It would be a warning.