The Academy's announcement echoed through the forest one more time. It was the Academy telling them that the battle had ended, and the victor had been decided.
The winner of the Inter-Class War is Class S.
Ronan heard it from somewhere near the treeline, far enough from the main battlefield that the smoke and noise had thinned into something quieter.
He stood with his back against rough bark, arms loose at his sides, breathing slowly while Aura watched him from a few paces away.
Ronan could tell she expected frustration. Anger. Something sharp enough to match the fact that he had spent days moving pieces across the battlefield, only to watch Grace Light pull victory out of chaos at the last possible moment.
He gave her nothing.
Ronan closed his eyes for a beat, then opened them again and processed the outcome the way he always did. Methodically, without letting emotion distort the shape of the result.
