Jack staggered upright at the newcomer's approach, his earlier bravado replaced by deferential silence. The courtyard's tension shifted palpably—warriors straightened like soldiers before a general, while mages instinctively tightened their formations.
Ethan's gaze swept the scorched battlefield. "Training ground dispute?" His voice carried neither accusation nor approval, merely factual inquiry.
A junior warrior blurted, "They attacked first!"
Golden eyes narrowed. "With theories that leave bruises?" The rebuke hung unspoken but clear. Under that piercing stare, even the most belligerent Blaze Citadel adherents found sudden fascination with their boots.
Jack winced as Ethan's gauntleted hand gripped his shoulder—a commander's gesture rather than comrade's. "Three months until proper competition. Can your pride not wait?"
The chastened warrior mumbled incoherently. Kael observed the dynamic with clinical interest. Here stood true authority, not the bluster of raw strength but the gravity forged through consistent dominance.
When Ethan turned, his attention bypassed Kael entirely. "Jaxon. My apologies for today's... exuberance."
The noble mage inclined his head stiffly. Grace demanded acceptance, though his white-knuckled grip on the fractured staff betrayed lingering resentment.
Throughout the exchange, Kael catalogued details: the absence of visible weapons, the faint shimmer along Ethan's pauldrons suggesting seventh-tier aura compression, the effortless way he'd quelled a potential riot through presence alone.
As warriors dispersed under their champion's silent command, Ethan finally met Kael's assessing stare. No words passed, but the fleeting arch of an eyebrow conveyed volumes—recognition of a potential rival, perhaps, or merely acknowledgment of today's catalyst.
Cloudspire's bells tolled the afternoon watch. The courtyard emptied, leaving only scorch marks and upturned stones as testament to the day's upheaval. Yet in scattered lecture halls and sparring rings, whispers of change took root—of a transfer student who'd shaken the established order, and the reigning king who'd calmly restored it.
Ethan's gaze shifted, the weight of his attention settling on Kael like a physical force. Jack leaned in to whisper urgently, his words drawing a spark of interest in the champion's eyes.
"So," Ethan's lips curved in a hunter's smile, "the rookie who one-shot our tenth rank."
"Kael. Celestial Haven transfer student."
"Transfer?" The golden-haired warrior's brows arched. "Makes sense. Last year's crop couldn't conjure sparks worth watching." His chuckle held no malice, merely the candor of unchallenged supremacy. "Dylan's decent, but even he's just... polished mediocrity."
The casual dismissal of Celestial Haven's current star mage drew indignant gasps. Ivy stomped forward. "Hmph! Just you wait! Senior Kael will—"
"—make this year's tournament interesting?" Ethan finished, amusement crinkling his eyes. "I certainly hope so." His focus never left Kael, evaluating not just power but poise.
The unspoken challenge hung between them—not the petty posturing of Jack's ilk, but the magnetic pull between apex predators.
Kael met that golden stare unflinching. "Expectations can be dangerous."
"Spoken like someone who's shattered a few." Ethan's armor clinked as he turned toward Cloudspire's main gates. Over his shoulder floated a parting volley: "Three months, Kael. Don't disappoint."
The courtyard exhaled collectively. Ivy vibrated with indignation, Jaxon studied the transfer student with renewed calculation, and the remaining warriors trailed after their champion like chastened hounds.
As twilight painted the battle-scarred stones, whispers spread through both academies—of a dark horse emerging from Celestial Haven's shadows, and the reigning titan who'd finally found reason to glance backward.
Kael's calm assurance rippled through the mages like a grounding spell. Shoulders straightened. Staves found firmer grips. Three years of cowed hesitation dissolved under the simple truth: they'd finally produced someone who didn't flinch before Blaze Citadel's golden boy.
Ethan's laughter rang clear across the twilight courtyard. "Save your fire for the tournament, Kael." The warning carried an undercurrent of genuine anticipation—a champion's hunger kindled after years of effortless victories.
As warriors dispersed, sneers and muttered jabs trailed in their wake. "Fool's courage..." "Ethan'll crush him..."
Ivy whirled on the critics, sparks dancing at her fingertips, but Kael's raised hand stilled her. Let them underestimate. The Silent One's original mandate demanded only a top-three finish, yet now grander ambitions took root—not mere victory, but the reshaping of Emberflame Academy's power dynamics.
"Senior—I mean, Kael!" Ivy corrected herself with an embarrassed giggle. "Three months... can you really...?"
He studied the fading daylight where Ethan had departed. "The tournament was always the goal."
Jaxon limped closer, his earlier hostility tempered by reluctant respect. "Ethan's never acknowledged a challenger like that. You've painted a target larger than you know."
"Targets exist to be struck."
The noble mage barked a pained laugh. "Arrogant pup. I almost like you now."
As the last stragglers drifted toward evening lectures, Cloudspire's shadow stretched long over the battlefield. Ivy chattered about training regimens while Kael mentally cataloged today's revelations—Ethan's aura compression techniques, the warriors' pack mentality, the dormant potential within Celestial Haven's rank-and-file.
Three months.
Adequate time to refine the celestial sigils whispering beneath his skin. More than enough to ensure when he and Ethan next met, it wouldn't be as rookie versus champion, but as equals upon the tournament stage.
The Silent One's emissary had work to do.