Chapter 43: Silent Suspicions
The evaluation had concluded, yet the tension in the hall remained thick. Students murmured among themselves as they filed out, some celebrating their rankings, others grumbling in frustration.
Yet, amidst the chatter, a select few remained silent.
In a secluded chamber, the academy's top faculty gathered. The Grandmaster stood near the window, his back to the others, gazing out into the night. Professor Marlowe crossed his arms, deep in thought.
"The device flickered," one of the instructors finally muttered, breaking the silence.
"It could've been a mere malfunction," another suggested, though his uncertain tone betrayed his words.
Marlowe remained quiet, but his mind raced. A mere malfunction? No. That wasn't just an error.
The Grandmaster finally spoke, his voice even. "And yet, it only happened once."
No one responded. They all knew whose evaluation had caused the disruption.
Lyrian.
Marlowe resisted the urge to speak his suspicions aloud. Instead, he let the silence stretch. If the Grandmaster was concerned, it was best to observe for now.
"Was it interference… or something beyond our understanding?" the Grandmaster mused inwardly, eyes narrowing.
The meeting ended with no further discussion. But as the faculty departed, the unspoken question lingered in their minds.
Outside, the students made their way toward the dormitories. After hours of standing through the evaluations, exhaustion weighed on them—but that didn't stop the chatter.
In the midst of the crowd, Dorian smirked as he nudged Reynard.
"Honestly, it should've been you at Adept I instead of Lyrian."
Reynard scoffed, shoving him back lightly. "Oh, please. If anyone deserves that rank, it's you. At least I have my pride."
Dorian chuckled. "You have an ego, not pride."
Their banter continued, drawing amused looks from the students around them. Even those frustrated with their rankings found it hard to ignore the ridiculousness of their conversation.
Lyrian, walking a short distance ahead, caught their words but didn't react. Instead, he simply shrugged and kept moving.
As they neared the dormitory paths, Elyreina suddenly stepped in front of Lyrian, blocking his way.
He halted, raising a brow. "Something wrong?"
Her gaze was sharp. "Why aren't you bothered?"
Lyrian blinked. "About what?"
"Your rank," she said, lowering her voice. "You fought better than most of them. That device was wrong, wasn't it?"
For a moment, Lyrian simply stared at her, unreadable as always. Then, a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Not knowing an opponent's abilities or potential is a great weapon in battle," he said calmly. "Being underestimated is an advantage."
Elyreina frowned, searching his expression for more. But he offered nothing further—just quiet certainty.
She exhaled. "You're impossible."
Lyrian merely gave a slight nod before stepping around her and continuing toward the dorms.
Elyreina remained still for a few moments, watching him disappear into the night. The cold wind brushed against her skin, yet she barely noticed.
Something wasn't right. And she intended to figure out what it was.