The training hall was still.
The air, moments ago filled with lightning's hiss and mana's roar, now hung in a reverent silence. Only the echo of that final clash lingered, trailing like smoke after a fire. The other students—those who had once been sparring, stretching, waiting—stood frozen. All eyes locked on the scene at the center of the arena.
Victor stood calm, blade at Ethan's neck. Not a scratch on him. Ethan stood equally still, chest heaving, sweat trickling, his spear frozen mid-air in a strike that had gone wide at the last second.
It was over.
No declaration needed.
Only silence.
From the sidelines, Julia stared, arms crossed tight over her chest, her usual smirk absent. Her blue eyes followed the slow, inevitable way Victor lowered his sword and stepped back with quiet finality.
"…That wasn't just a fight," she murmured, barely above a whisper. "That was a freaking textbook."
Lilia didn't speak at first.
