Jin staggered forward and his vision blurred. Blood ran down from the side of his forehead, dripping over his jaw, staining his neck.
His twin swords hung loosely at his sides, both blades cracked from the earlier fight.
His body was covered in cuts, his breathing ragged — but his eyes still burned with that stubborn fire that refused to die out.
He had just fought Ethan — the top third-year mage of the academy — and though Jin had won, it wasn't a victory anyone could call clean.
Ethan lay unconscious back there.
Their battle had torn half the road towards their home, trees were cleaved, and scorch marks from Ethan's magic still smoked faintly in the air.
Jin wanted to walk away.
But before he could reach the path out of the roadside, a mocking voice echoed behind him.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Jin froze. He turned his head slightly.
Ethan's group.
They looked down on Jin.
"Do you think you are strong just because you beat Ethan?" one of them said.
