The stone of the arena is still warm when we leave.
The stands empty slowly.
Too slowly.
Conversations resume in hushed tones, but nothing feels normal. The duel left a mark — not on the ground.
On the way people look at us.
Brask walks beside me. He keeps his back straight, but I can see the exhaustion in his movements. Every step costs him.
"They saw everything," he says without looking at me.
"Yes."
"And they'll remember it."
I glance up at the towering walls of the Academy. The ramparts. The windows. The unmoving silhouettes behind the glass.
Here, no one forgets what disturbs the order.
The reminder comes the next morning.
The main hall is full.
Too full.
All classes are gathered. First-years. Second-years. Third-years. Hundreds of students lined in uneven ranks beneath the high stone vaults.
The air feels tight.
Yesterday's duel lingers in everyone's mind.
Brask stands beside me. Bandages peek from beneath his uniform. He doesn't hide them. He doesn't pretend he's untouched.
"They won't let this slide," he murmurs.
"No."
I scan the platform.
Liora de Valbraise arrives.
She never rushes. She walks with deliberate certainty, as if time itself adjusts to her pace. Several professors follow behind her.
Including Relgor.
His gaze moves across the crowd with unsettling interest.
Silence falls without being requested.
"Students of the Academy of Pyrrhès," Liora begins. "You all witnessed an official duel yesterday."
She pauses.
"Some of you applauded. Others looked away. It does not matter."
Her voice remains calm.
Too calm.
"The Academy does not reward courage."
A beat.
"It rewards results."
A ripple of murmurs.
"Starting today, a global ranking system will be implemented."
The whispers die instantly.
"Your theoretical and practical scores will be combined. Rankings by class. Rankings by year. Rankings overall."
She inhales slowly.
"Students at the bottom of the rankings will be expelled."
The silence freezes.
"Permanently."
Someone swallows too loudly.
"There will be no appeals. No justifications. No compensation."
She lifts her chin slightly.
"And I will be perfectly clear."
A long pause.
"Deaths occurring during practical examinations will not be the responsibility of the Academy."
The word deaths lands like a stone dropped into water.
"Your legal guardians signed the agreement. You signed as well."
Brask stiffens beside me.
"Those who remain will understand. Those who fail…"
She lets the silence finish the thought.
"…were never meant to continue."
Relgor smiles faintly.
"You may leave."
For a moment, no one moves.
Then slowly, the crowd disperses — as if everyone needs a few seconds more to accept what was just said.
"There," Brask exhales. "They finally said it."
"They just stopped pretending," I reply.
"After the fight," he adds.
I nod.
The message is clear.
What happened yesterday wasn't an exception.
It was a demonstration.
History class awaits us.
Older than the others. Heavier too.
The walls are covered in damaged frescoes depicting battles frozen in time — flames, lightning, waves, wind. Faceless warriors. Forgotten dead.
The professor is already there.
Old. Slightly hunched. Rough voice.
But his eyes are sharp.
"Sit."
He doesn't introduce himself.
"After what you heard in the hall, it is time you understand why the world functions this way."
He strikes the ground with his cane.
"Today, we discuss the Two Great Elemental Wars."
An ancient map materializes in the air.
"Before the First Great Elemental War, the world was not divided into kingdoms."
A pause.
"It was fragmented. Clans. Shifting alliances. Endless conflict."
The map glows.
"The year 520 Before the War marks the ignition. But the war did not begin with kingdoms."
He points to a region.
"It began with the Lightning clans…"
A beat.
"…against themselves."
Runes animate across the map.
"In the year 500, a general peace treaty was signed. Twenty years of stability."
A quiet exhale moves through the room.
"Until 517."
The map shifts.
"The first kingdom in the world was founded: the Lightning Kingdom."
He taps the glowing region.
"The unified clans signed an accord. One people. One banner."
He lifts his head.
"But not all clans accepted."
Silence.
"The Lightning Kingdom attacked. Annexed. Crushed."
His cane strikes the floor.
"Lightning against Lightning."
He straightens.
"Some clans resisted. Others watched."
A pause.
"And some…"
"…learned."
The map expands.
"In 526, the other elements followed. Fire. Earth. Air. Water."
Symbols ignite across the world.
"Kingdoms were born."
"Kingdoms against clans — until the final annexation in 534."
He lets the silence linger.
"Then came the longest peace treaty in recorded history."
I feel Brask tense beside me.
"It lasted until 668."
The map fractures.
"When the new Air King broke it."
The glowing lines shift violently.
"He attacked Lightning."
Alliances form in red and gold.
"In 670, Earth attacked Fire. Water joined Earth. Fire allied with Air. Then Lightning joined Earth."
He draws a symbol in the air.
"The Trine Alliance."
My fists tighten.
"They crushed the Fire Kingdom. Then Air."
His voice lowers.
"Until 680."
The map fades.
"The Second Great Elemental War was not a war of ideals."
His gaze moves across us.
"It was a war of eradication."
Total silence.
"Class dismissed."
We leave without speaking.
We descend the stone steps carefully, as if the ground might fracture under too much noise.
The frescoes remain behind us.
The weight doesn't.
One war calls for another.
Always.
In the corridor, students whisper about the morning's announcement.
Ranking.
Expulsion.
Death.
They say the words like subjects in a syllabus.
Not threats.
Brask clenches his jaw.
"They're putting us in a cage," he mutters.
I don't answer.
Because it's worse than a cage.
A cage has visible bars.
Here, they let you believe you're free…
Until you fall.
Practice is postponed. "Reorganization." "Adjustment."
Clean words.
They're already calculating who deserves to remain.
Brask exhales, unsure what to do with his hands.
"I need to understand," he mutters.
"Then we read."
He stares at me.
"Seriously?"
"Yes."
We head to the library.
The library is nearly empty.
After the noise of the hall and the heaviness of History, the silence here feels different.
Softer.
Almost deceptive.
Brask flips through a book without truly reading.
I scan an old treatise on elemental flow theory.
"All this just to tell us they'll do it again," he whispers.
"They never stopped."
A presence behind us.
"You summarize history with remarkable clarity."
I look up.
A boy stands there.
Dark black hair. Brown eyes. Calm. Controlled. Several books tucked beneath his arm.
"Kaïros," he says simply. "Class 1A."
His gaze lingers briefly on Brask.
Then on me.
Brask frowns.
"You were at the duel?"
"No."
He sets his books down carefully.
"But I observed its consequences."
His eyes flick to the bandages, then back to me.
"Carmine Fire," he says calmly. "Few speak of it openly. Fewer still when it manifests in a student."
I don't respond.
He smiles faintly.
"Don't worry. The library appreciates silence."
He sits.
"You understood something essential today," he continues. "The Academy does not train heroes."
"Then what?" Brask asks.
Kaïros closes his book.
"Warriors."
He stands.
"And sometimes…"
A slight pause.
"…weapons."
He disappears between the shelves.
I glance at Brask.
"Did you feel that?"
"Yeah."
"What?"
He hesitates.
"That he watches too carefully."
I close my book.
Outside, the Academy continues its rhythm.
But something has locked into place now.
And I know one thing with certainty:
After the duel.
After the announcement.
There is no going back.