Sir Balen stood at the edge of the upper terrace overlooking the training grounds. His usually proud figure was now trembling, a sheen of sweat glistening on his brow. His gloved hands clutched the stone railing tightly, knuckles white.
"Are my eyes deceiving me…?" he muttered under his breath. He was trying his best to act like he didn't know what was going on.
Next to him stood Archmage Mandira, a tall and elegant woman dressed in beautiful robes embroidered with different aptterns. Her slightly violet hair flowed like liquid rainbow down her back, and her sharp eyes swept across the scene below with intensity.
A vein throbbed on her forehead.
"Balen," she said coldly, her voice like a blade in velvet. "Weren't knight training duels supposed to be one-on-one?"
Sir Balen flinched. "Y-yes, Principal...Archmage. That is the standard protocol."
