The attention didn't fade.
It sharpened.
Riser noticed it immediately.
Not because people were loud—but because they weren't.
Conversations lowered instead of rising.Movements slowed instead of stopping.Eyes didn't stare openly—
They tracked.
Measured.
"…Yeah," he muttered under his breath, stepping off the training field, "this is definitely worse."
Lyra walked beside him, arms crossed, gaze forward.
"You wanted visibility."
"I didn't say I wanted to feel like I'm being evaluated by half the academy."
"You are."
"…Great."
They hadn't made it far.
Of course they hadn't.
"Riser."
The voice cut through the low hum of the courtyard—not loud, but clear enough to shift attention.
Riser stopped.
Not abruptly.
Just enough.
"…Yeah?"
He turned slightly.
A figure stepped forward from the edge of the gathered students.
Tall. Composed. Not nervous.
Not arrogant either.
That alone made him more dangerous than most.
"I've been watching."
Riser raised an eyebrow.
"…That seems to be a trend today."
The man didn't react to the deflection.
His gaze stayed steady.
"…I want to confirm something."
Lyra sighed softly beside him.
"…Here we go."
Riser glanced sideways.
"You sound surprised."
"I'm not," she said flatly. "I just hoped they'd wait longer."
Riser smirked faintly.
"…Wrong place for that."
He looked back at the challenger.
"…Name?"
A brief pause.
Then—
"Arden."
Another beat.
"…Valencrest."
That—
Changed things.
It wasn't dramatic.
No one gasped.
No one shouted.
But the air shifted.
"…Valencrest?" someone whispered.
"That was fast…"
"He's stepping in already?"
Riser noticed all of it.
Of course he did.
"…Yeah," he exhaled quietly. "That tracks."
Arden stepped closer.
Not aggressively.
But deliberately.
"You've drawn attention."
"…And now people want to see if it's justified."
Riser rolled his shoulders once, loosening the lingering tension in his muscles.
"…That's usually how it works."
Arden's eyes narrowed just slightly.
Not hostile.
Assessing.
"Then don't waste my time."
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of Riser's mouth.
"…Wouldn't dream of it."
Lyra stepped back without being asked.
Creating space.
"…Make it quick," she muttered.
"No promises."
They moved toward the training field again.
And just like that—
The crowd reorganized.
Not chaotic.
Not rushed.
Intentional.
People didn't gather randomly.
They positioned themselves.
Better angles.
Clear sightlines.
Because this wasn't just another spar.
This was a measure.
Riser stepped onto the field and exhaled slowly.
"…You know," he said, glancing around briefly, "this is starting to feel familiar."
Arden took his position across from him.
Calm.
Balanced.
"It should."
Silence settled between them.
Not heavy.
Not tense.
Focused.
No signal.
No countdown.
Arden moved first.
Fast.
Not explosive like some of the others.
Not overwhelming like Yubelluna.
But—
Clean.
His first step was direct.
No wasted motion.
His arm came up—
A straight strike toward Riser's center.
Riser reacted.
Not instantly.
But not late either.
He shifted his weight—
Turned just enough—
The strike grazed past instead of landing clean.
"…Good."
Arden didn't slow.
A second movement followed immediately.
Sharper angle.
Testing response.
Riser adjusted again.
Slower than optimal—
But not blind.
The strike clipped his shoulder lightly.
"…Tch."
He stepped back half a pace.
Resetting.
Arden stopped.
Just for a moment.
Not because he had to.
Because he chose to.
"…So that wasn't exaggerated."
Riser rolled his shoulder once.
"…You hit harder than the last guy."
"…Good."
Arden moved again.
This time—
Faster.
The gap closed instantly.
A sequence of strikes followed.
Not overwhelming.
Not chaotic.
Precise.
Each movement tested something different.
Reaction speed.
Positioning.
Timing.
Riser blocked the first.
Barely.
Redirected the second.
Late.
Avoided the third—
Just enough.
Not clean.
Not smooth.
But—
He wasn't breaking.
From the sidelines—
"He's holding."
"Against a Valencrest?"
"He's not folding…"
Arden's eyes flickered.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
"You're adjusting."
"Bad habit."
"It'll keep you alive."
"That's the plan."
They clashed again.
Closer now.
Faster.
Riser wasn't trying to match Arden's speed.
He wasn't trying to overpower him.
He was—
Reading.
Every movement.
Every shift.
Every slight delay between actions.
Arden stepped in again.
Riser moved—
Not reacting—
Predicting.
The strike passed where he had been.
Not where he was.
"…Better."
"Thanks."
A faint pause.
Then—
The pace increased again.
Arden pushed forward.
More pressure.
More precision.
Riser gave ground—
But not much.
Just enough to maintain space.
Just enough to think.
Another exchange—
Faster—
Tighter—
Then—
A gap.
Small.
Barely visible.
But real.
Riser saw it.
Didn't hesitate.
He stepped in—
Closed the distance—
His hand shot forward—
Stopping just short of Arden's chest.
Silence.
The movement froze.
For a moment—
They were locked.
Not physically.
But in intent.
Arden looked at Riser's hand.
Then back at his face.
"…Not bad."
Riser exhaled lightly.
"…I try."
A brief pause.
Then—
They both stepped back.
Reset.
No follow-up.
No escalation.
Just—
Acknowledgment.
"…That enough?" Riser asked.
Arden didn't answer immediately.
He studied him.
Longer this time.
Not just his stance.
Not just his movement.
Everything.
Then—
"…For now."
He turned.
Just like that.
And walked off the field.
No dramatic exit.
No final words.
Just—
Done.
The silence held for a second.
Then—
The murmurs returned.
"He didn't lose."
"He didn't win either."
"…But he held."
"That was clean."
"He adapted mid-fight."
Riser exhaled slowly.
"…Yeah," he muttered, "that's about what I expected."
Lyra stepped back beside him.
"…You're getting there."
"High praise."
"Don't get used to it."
He smirked.
"…Too late."
From the edge of the field—
Ravel watched.
Silent.
But her eyes—
Sharp.
Calculating.
Because this—
This was exactly what she wanted.
Not dominance.
Not overwhelming power.
Consistency.
Control.
Definition.
And now—
They had it.
Riser stepped off the field again.
But this time—
The attention followed differently.
Not curiosity.
Not doubt.
Recognition.
"…Yeah," he muttered quietly.
"…That's definitely worse."
Because now—
They weren't just watching him.
They were starting to measure him seriously.
And that meant—
The next move—
Wouldn't be this simple.