Lindarion shook Twelve's hand, their gazes locking for a moment.
"I know I won, but don't compare yourself to me."
Lindarion said jokingly, after that he realized how bad it sounded.
'Wow. That was incredibly cringe to say out loud.'
Lindarion's smile twitched slightly as Twelve shook his head and said something before he walked away.
"It's good to compare yourself to better people sometimes. Helps with improvement."
'That's the half truth. I guess.'
Then, out of nowhere, a massive hand clamped down on Lindarion's shoulder. His body reacted instantly—pushing off and twisting backward as if his life depended on it.
Magnus raised an eyebrow at him, looking both amused and unimpressed.
"Paranoid little brat, aren't you? Come with me."
With that, he turned and strode toward the building.
"You lazy bunch, keep those spars going!" he barked over his shoulder, and suddenly, the trainees' movements sped up as if their lives depended on it.
'…Well, if it works, it works.'
