"Huff… huff…" Eliza and Reeta collapsed to their knees, their fingers trembling as they clutched the ground for support. Every breath felt like fire in their lungs, their mana reserves nearly drained from the relentless barrage of spells they had unleashed. Sweat trickled down their flushed faces, strands of hair sticking messily to their cheeks.
Across from them, Vern and Edward still stood firm. Their chests rose and fell heavily, sweat dripping from their jaws and staining their collars, but their eyes burned with unyielding focus. Their grips on their swords didn't falter for even a second—every movement screamed of discipline and control.
Eliza's lips parted slightly, disbelief flashing across her exhausted face. Are they really thirteen?
Reeta bit her lip, her gaze flickering from Vern's calm expression to Edward's sharp, unwavering stance. They weren't just enduring—the two boys looked as if they were only warming up.
Though officially first-years, their presence alone carried the weight of seasoned fighters. Eliza could swear that even among the upperclassmen, only a handful of fourth or fifth-years could stand against such overwhelming pressure.
The gap between them was undeniable.
"That's it for today."
Instructor Vikel, who had been silently observing from the sidelines, finally stepped forward. His calm yet commanding voice cut through the heavy air of the training ground.
At his words, Vern and Edward exhaled in unison. The tension in their shoulders eased as they sheathed their swords with a metallic clink. Sweat still dripped from their brows, soaking into their uniforms, but neither boy looked the least bit shaken.
Instead of striding off with arrogance, both quietly lowered themselves to the ground, sitting cross-legged as the dust settled around them. Their steady composure only made the contrast with Eliza and Reeta—still panting and trembling on their knees—all the more striking.
"And you will continue to practice this way for the next two years. Is that understood?" Instructor Vikel's voice carried an edge of authority, leaving no room for negotiation.
"Yes, Instructor," the four of them replied in unison, their tones uneven—Eliza and Reeta still breathless, while Vern and Edward sounded steady, almost indifferent.
Vikel gave a short nod, satisfied. The arrangement was clear: the girls would hone their spellcasting through relentless combat, learning to control their mana under pressure. At the same time, the boys would sharpen their blades against the most difficult obstacle a swordsman could face—piercing through magic itself.
For both sides, it was grueling… yet undeniably beneficial.
"Take your time resting before you leave," Vikel instructed, his tone brisk and final. Without waiting for a reply, he turned on his heel and strode away, his cloak swaying as his figure gradually disappeared from the training ground.
The silence that followed felt oddly heavy. Edward finally let out a long, weary breath, shoulders slumping as the tension drained from his body. His gaze drifted first to Eliza—still catching her breath on the ground—then shifted toward Vern. His eyes carried a silent plea, a look that wordlessly begged for help.
Vern instantly understood what the idiot was asking for. His brows furrowed, and he shook his head in firm denial.
"You should go and talk to her," Vern muttered, his tone dry. "She's sitting alone. Or you can just go an—"
He stopped mid-sentence. His words caught in his throat as his eyes shifted past Edward's shoulder.
The two girls were already approaching them, their footsteps soft but steady, faces still flushed from exhaustion yet carrying a different kind of determination.
"H–Hello…" Reeta stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. She glanced at Vern and Edward, her eyes fluttering nervously before darting away again.
"We… didn't really get a chance to talk earlier," Eliza added, her tone steadier, though her fingers betrayed her nerves as they fidgeted with a loose strand of hair. "Since we were told to cast spells immediately, we couldn't… um, would you like to join us on the way to the canteen? Maybe… have some tea together?"
Vern opened his mouth, hesitation written plainly across his face. "We wanted to go bu—"
"We'll go."
Edward's voice cut sharply through Vern's attempt at refusal. His answer came firm, almost too quick, leaving no space for Vern's protest. He didn't even glance at Vern, his eyes fixed instead on the girls, as if determined to seize the opportunity before it slipped away.
Vern clicked his tongue softly, shoulders sinking in resignation.
"Hey, Charlotte and Salena should be waiting for you—" Vern started, trying to redirect the situation.
"Let them wait," Edward cut him off without hesitation, his tone firm but relaxed. "It's just one day. We'll pick them up after spending an hour, so chill."
"Yes, it won't take that much time, so you can relax for a bit," Eliza chimed in quickly, her voice carrying a hopeful note.
"She's right," Reeta added softly, nodding in agreement.
Vern let out a long sigh, pressing his fingers against his temple. That idiot… he thought, exasperation clear in his eyes. After a moment of silence, he finally muttered, "Fine… then let's go."
****
In the canteen, the four of them split for a moment—Vern and Edward heading to the counter to place their orders, while Eliza and Reeta found a quiet table near the window.
As soon as the boys were out of earshot, Eliza leaned forward on the table, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Hey," she whispered, barely holding back her giggles, "who do you think is the most handsome out of the two?"
Reeta blinked, caught off guard, but her lips curved into a small smile. She tilted her head thoughtfully, pretending to consider it. "If I had to say… hmm…" Her eyes lingered in the direction of the boys for a moment before she gave her answer. "They're both at their peak. Honestly, no one else even comes close."
Eliza's eyes widened slightly at her boldness.
Reeta chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear with unusual confidence. Her earlier stammering was gone—replaced by a calm, almost certain tone. "There are some decent-looking ones in our class, sure… but none of them could match those two."
Eliza giggled again, lowering her voice as if afraid the boys might somehow overhear. "I thought the same."
"I especially find Vern more handsome," Reeta admitted, her tone softer now as her eyes lingered toward the counter. "His long hair really compliments those deep black eyes of his. And Edward… well, he's just as striking. Honestly, I'd say both of them are equal in their own way. What do you think?" She turned to Eliza with a curious smile.
"Well, I think the sam—sho, sho—"
Eliza's words stumbled into silence as Reeta suddenly nudged her under the table. Following her gaze, Eliza's eyes widened.
Vern and Edward were already walking back toward them, trays in hand.
As Vern and Edward approached, the girls quickly straightened in their seats, smoothing their hair and forcing casual smiles onto their faces.
"What were you talking about?" Edward asked, setting down the steaming teacups and dishes with a curious glance.
"Nothing—just idle chat," Eliza replied quickly, her tone a little too light. She reached forward to help arrange the dishes on the table.
Reeta nodded in agreement, though the faint flush still lingering on her cheeks betrayed her earlier words.
After arranging all the dishes, the four of them finally settled down at the table. The clinking of cutlery and the faint aroma of tea filled the air as they began to eat.
"So, Edward—you're from the Zenithara house, right? And Vern from the Kael house?" Eliza asked casually, lifting her teacup to her lips. "Did you two know each other from the start?"
Edward leaned back slightly, tapping a finger against his cup before answering. "Well, I didn't know him at first, but my sister did." He then went on to explain how Salena had met Vern before, and how there had always been a quiet connection between their families.
"Ohh, is that so?" Eliza replied with a polite smile, though the slight twitch at the corner of her eyes betrayed a flicker of unease.
"Yeah… and Vern," Edward continued, turning his gaze toward his friend, "we've had our fair share of clashes. I still remember the first time we dueled—I lost to him outright." His lips curved into a half-grin as he recalled it. "After that, we kept sparring. Now it's about even—twenty wins and twenty losses. A perfect tie."
Reeta's eyes widened slightly, her spoon pausing mid-air. "Twenty times…?" she murmured, clearly impressed.
Vern, however, simply kept eating in silence, his expression calm, as if none of it really mattered.
From his silence alone, the girls quickly realized that Vern wasn't the type to indulge in idle chatter. Whenever they tried to draw him into the conversation, he would cut them short with a handful of detached replies—"I see," "Is that so," and little more. His dark eyes remained calm, his focus fixed more on his food than the company.
With Vern unwilling to play along, the flow of conversation naturally shifted toward Edward. Unlike his quiet companion, Edward seemed more than eager to talk, answering every question with enthusiasm and throwing in stories of his own. His voice carried an energy that filled the gaps Vern left behind.
And though he spoke to both girls, it was obvious where his gaze lingered most. Edward was hopelessly taken with Eliza—the green-haired girl who returned his words with bright smiles and light laughter.
Reeta, meanwhile, simply watched the two with a knowing look, occasionally teasing Edward whenever he stumbled over his words.