"…Alright."
Max exhaled lightly, his gaze steady as he looked at her. "…We'll train together." For a brief moment, nothing changed in her expression. Then Elira gave a small nod, as if that answer was expected from the start. "…Good."
That was all she said. No follow-up. No unnecessary agreement. And strangely—it didn't feel incomplete.
They stood there for a few seconds longer, neither moving immediately. The training ground remained quiet, the faint traces of mana still lingering in the air from earlier. Max turned slightly, glancing once more at the circle beneath his feet.
"…Tomorrow, same time?"
Elira adjusted her stance slightly. "…Earlier." Max almost smiled. "…Fine."
That was how it ended. Simple. Clear.
The next morning came without tension. Not calm—but settled. The Section A classroom had filled earlier than usual this time, students arriving on time, conversations quieter, movements more structured. The initial uncertainty was fading, replaced by routine.
Max walked in at his usual pace. Nothing rushed. Nothing delayed. Liora was already seated, her gaze lingering just enough to notice something had changed—but not enough to question it directly. "…You're consistent." "…Trying to be."
Ronan dropped into his usual spot a few seconds later. "…Feels like everyone's taking this seriously now." "…They should." Max said.
At the front—Arion Valcrest stood again. Unchanged. Not louder, not sharper—just present.
Instructor Kael entered shortly after. No delay. No wasted movement. "Continue."
That was all he said. The class resumed immediately, this time more structured. Mana flow regulation, reaction drills, controlled timing exercises—nothing flashy, but necessary.
From an external perspective, early-stage training focused on stabilizing power rather than increasing it. Those who rushed strength without control often plateaued early—or broke under pressure.
Max moved through the drills steadily. No unnecessary effort. No wasted motion. Across from him—Elira. Same pace, different execution. She adjusted faster; he refined deeper. The difference was subtle, but real.
Time passed.
"Stop."
Kael's voice cut through cleanly. The room stilled. "One month." A faint shift passed through the students. "That is the time you have."
"The first evaluation will take place after that." A few students straightened slightly. "Both theory and practical."
Kael's gaze moved across the room slowly. "You are already placed in Section A." His voice lowered slightly. "So the question is not qualification."
A pause. "…It is ranking."
Silence.
"Number one."
That changed everything.
"Will be decided." The room didn't explode into noise, but the atmosphere shifted—sharper, focused.
"…One month…" Ronan muttered quietly. "…That's tight." "…Enough time." Max replied calmly.
Nearby, a few students exchanged looks. Some confident. Some uncertain. Some already calculating outcomes. Liora leaned back slightly. "…So this is where it starts." "…It already started." Max said. She looked at him briefly, then nodded once.
The class ended not long after. This time, movement felt more defined. Students didn't just leave—they grouped, aligned, positioned themselves without speaking it aloud.
Max stood up. And without hesitation—Elira moved beside him. Not ahead. Not behind. Beside.
A few eyes shifted. No one said anything. But they noticed. Liora noticed too. Her gaze lingered slightly longer than usual, then she looked away.
"…People talk about you." Elira said as they stepped outside.
Max glanced at her. "…Do they?"
"…Yeah." She didn't slow her pace. "They say you're dangerous."
Max let out a quiet laugh. "…That's a bit much."
"…They also say you're not someone people should get close to."
He shook his head slightly. "…And yet—" he looked at her briefly, "…you're walking with me."
Elira didn't hesitate. "…I don't follow rumors." A short pause. "…I watch."
Max smiled faintly. "…Fair." There was no tension in the conversation. No hidden meaning. Just clarity.
They reached the training ground again. The same circle. The same space. But this time—it didn't feel like coincidence.
Max stepped inside. Elira followed. No signal. No agreement spoken. Mana gathered again—controlled, steady.
Their movements began. Not synchronized—but not separate either. Corrections came naturally. Adjustments followed instantly.
"…Your timing is early." Elira said. Max shifted. "…Better?" "…Yeah."
A moment later—"…Too much force." Max said. She adjusted. Continued.
That was how it worked. No teaching. No hierarchy. Just refinement.
Time passed.
And without realizing it—something had already started to change.
Max slowed his movements, letting the final traces of mana settle back into his core. The training circle fell quiet again, the faint hum of energy fading into stillness. For a brief moment, he stood there without moving. Then he stepped out. No words exchanged. No need for them.
The walk back to his dorm was uneventful. Students passed by in small groups, some discussing training, others simply moving between routines. The academy no longer felt unfamiliar. It felt… functional.
His room was as he left it—clean, quiet, undisturbed. Max stepped inside, closing the door behind him without sound. The shower came first.
Hot water washed over him, clearing away the physical strain of training while his thoughts remained steady beneath it. Nothing rushed through his mind this time. No overanalysis. Just… order.
He stepped out after a while, drying off quickly before changing into a fresh set of clothes. Simple. Practical. No effort wasted on appearance beyond what was necessary. "…Better."
The room felt smaller after that. Not suffocating—just contained. Max stepped outside again.
The academy grounds stretched ahead, but this time he didn't head toward training. He walked. Not aimlessly—but without urgency.
From an external perspective, Aurelis Academy functioned more like a self-contained city than a simple institution. Everything a student required—training zones, residential quarters, supply halls, and even leisure spaces—existed within its boundaries. It reduced distractions. And increased focus.
Max moved along one of the main stone paths, his gaze shifting occasionally but never lingering too long. Students passed him, some familiar, some not. Conversations blended into background noise.
Then—"…Out this late?"
Max stopped slightly. A woman stood a short distance ahead, her posture relaxed yet composed. Her long auburn hair was tied loosely behind her, a few strands falling naturally along her face. Her eyes were sharp, observant—but not cold.
She looked… approachable. Yet something about her presence made it clear—she wasn't ordinary. "…Professor." Max acknowledged. "…Professor Seris Vael."
A senior instructor. And strong. Very strong. From an external perspective, Seris Vael was among the upper-tier combat instructors within the academy. Not at the level of the headmaster—but far beyond most. Her control over mana was refined to a degree that made even subtle movements carry weight.
"…Heading somewhere?" she asked casually. Max shrugged slightly. "…Just walking." She studied him for a moment—not intrusively, but with quiet attention. "…You were in today's evaluation." "…Yeah."
A brief pause followed. "…You're different from the others." Max didn't respond immediately. "…Is that a problem?"
Seris smiled faintly. "…No." Then—"…Just something to keep an eye on." Max exhaled lightly. "…I'll try not to be too interesting."
She let out a small laugh. "…That would be a waste." A moment of silence followed. Then she stepped aside slightly. "…Don't overtrain."
Max raised an eyebrow. "…Noted." She walked past him without another word. Max watched her for a second.
From what he remembered—she wasn't supposed to last. A disaster. A demon invasion. And she had died. "…Unfortunate."
He muttered quietly. Then moved on.
The academy café came into view soon after. Unlike the training zones, this place carried a different atmosphere. Softer. Less tense. Students gathered in small groups, conversations quieter, the air filled with the faint aroma of brewed drinks and warm food. It wasn't crowded. But it was alive.
Max stepped inside. His gaze moved once across the room—then stopped.
Liora.
She sat near the window, a cup resting lightly in her hand, her posture relaxed but not careless. Her gaze was directed outside, though it shifted the moment he entered. She had already noticed him. Of course she had.
Max walked over without hesitation. "…Didn't expect to see you here." Liora tilted her head slightly. "…Same."
A faint pause followed. Then—"…Sit." Max didn't argue. He took the seat across from her.
The moment settled quietly between them. Not tense. Not awkward. Just… there. And for now—that was enough.
Max leaned back slightly, his gaze shifting toward the counter. "…I'll get something." Without waiting for a response, he stood and walked over, ordering a strong coffee. No extras. No hesitation.
By the time he returned, Liora hadn't moved much. She watched him as he placed the cup down and took a slow sip.
"…You know," she said after a moment, her voice calm but deliberate, "you're pushing yourself too much." Max didn't look up immediately. "…Am I?"
Liora rested her chin lightly against her hand, her eyes fixed on him now. "…It doesn't feel like discipline." A brief pause followed. "…It feels like you're desperate."
Max exhaled quietly, setting the cup down. There was no denial. "…Yeah."
He met her gaze this time. "…I am." No hesitation. No excuse. "…I'm desperate to get stronger."
The words didn't carry weight—they carried clarity. Liora studied him for a moment longer, her expression unchanged, but her eyes slightly sharper now.
"…Being desperate—" she said slowly, "…also causes accidents sometimes."
Silence followed. Max didn't respond immediately. He simply picked up
the cup again, taking another sip.
"…Then I'll just have to make sure it doesn't."
The answer was simple. But not careless. And for some reason—Liora didn't argue.