Silence hung over the training field, thick and heavy. The lingering energy of the fight crackled in the air like an unspent storm. Kyle exhaled sharply, lowering his stance. His muscles burned, his pulse thundered in his ears, but he remained steady. Across from him, Darius Holt stood, chest rising and falling with controlled breaths. His Stormfang Panther flickered beside him, static energy pulsing through its fur, but even it wavered, its form dimming with exhaustion.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Then, Darius let out a low, breathy laugh and wiped sweat from his brow. "Damn," he muttered, shaking his head. "You're full of surprises, Corvayn."
Kyle didn't answer immediately. His fingers clenched and unclenched at his sides, his body still humming with the remnants of combat. But beyond that—he felt something else. A deep, familiar presence stirred within him. Faint, but watchful.
Boneclaw.
Before he could process it further, a sharp clap echoed across the field.
"Enough," Instructor Calder's voice cut through the thick tension, commanding attention. His jet-black hair fell slightly over his eyes, but the sharpness in his gaze remained. The crystalline blue gauntlet on his arm pulsed faintly with residual energy, as if reacting to the intensity of the battle. His Ashen Direwolf, standing tall beside him, flicked its tail once before letting out a low, approving huff.
Calder's eyes flickered between Kyle and Darius before he stepped forward.
"You both did well," he said evenly. "But let's make something clear." His gaze settled on Darius first. "Holt, you rely too much on speed and precision. It's your greatest strength, but what happens when someone drags you into a prolonged fight? When you can't take them down in a few quick strikes?" He let the words sink in before shifting his focus to Kyle.
"And you, Corvayn…" He studied him for a moment, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. "Your instincts are sharp. Too sharp for someone with as little experience as you claim to have."
Kyle held Calder's gaze, saying nothing.
Calder exhaled and turned away. "That's enough for today. Everyone, take what you've learned and apply it. Dismissed."
The murmurs began immediately. Whispers rippled through the gathered students, eyes flickering toward Kyle. Some were cautious, others curious. Darius had been expected to dominate the fight. Instead, Kyle had pushed him to his absolute limit.
Jace was the first to break the moment, clapping Kyle on the back with a grin. "Holy hell, Kyle. You were supposed to be the underdog! What happened to letting me profit off that bet?"
Kyle blinked. The bet. He had completely forgotten about it until now. His lips parted slightly in realization.
Darius chuckled as he approached, arms crossed. "Yeah, about that," he said, giving Kyle a lopsided grin. "You were supposed to lose, remember?"
Kyle sighed. "I guess I forgot."
Jace groaned dramatically. "You had one job, Kyle!"
Darius smirked. "Well, I could take your credits, but..." He rolled his shoulders, the remnants of exhaustion still in his stance. "That fight was worth it." He extended a hand. "Keep your credits. Consider it payment for a damn good match."
Kyle eyed the offered hand before gripping it firmly. "Fair enough."
Darius nodded, his Stormfang Panther flickering at his side as he turned away. "Next time, though, I'm not holding back."
Kyle smirked. "I'll be ready."
As Darius walked off, the crowd slowly dispersed, the buzz of conversation still trailing in the air. Jace let out a long whistle. "Man, I gotta start betting for you instead of against you."
Vivian approached next, arms folded, a knowing look in her eyes. "Not bad," she mused. "But that wasn't everything, was it?".
Kyle met her gaze evenly. "What do you mean?"
She smiled faintly. "Just an observation."
Before he could press further, she turned and walked away.
Kyle let out a slow breath, rolling his shoulders. The fight had pushed him harder than expected. But he wanted more to protect himself against any higher ups