"First duel... Ronan V. Dravenholt."
Arderia's voice cut through the murmuring crowd, loud enough to reach everyone's ears.
And then, for a small moment, the entire training field froze.
Even Gray's eyes narrowed, immediately shifting toward the boy standing beside him.
Of course he knew it.
The Dravenholts were no joke. One of the stronger noble families in the central territory. Not on the same level as his family, of course, far from it, but still... the Marquis Dravenholt held a decent amount of political weight.
And the way Ronan stood there?
Like someone who knew that name meant something.
He lifted his chin, smirked confidently, and turned slightly toward Gray.
"...Now do you recognize me?" he asked, chest puffed out with pride.
But there was no answer.
"...Hey—" Ronan blinked, looking around.
Gray had already turned and walked away.
Without a glance or a word.
