As Liam walked down the quiet hallway, he paused by one of the tall windows. The afternoon light streamed in, casting soft shadows across the polished floor. He leaned slightly toward the glass, raising a hand beneath his left eye and gently pulling the skin downward. The purple, vein-like lines he had seen that morning were gone.
'Mystica really did heal me completely,' he thought, checking his right eye as well—same result. He exhaled slowly and resumed walking toward the training hall.
'Looks like I pushed Shadow Sight too far. Nearly wrecked my eyes. And Shadow Passage didn't help either—my body felt like it had been through a grinder. Guess every spell has its limits.'
During the nights he spent keeping watch over Sheila, Liam had used Shadow Sight almost non-stop, scanning for even the faintest traces of demonic myst near her room or the surrounding halls. Shadow Sight granted him exceptional night vision and the ability to perceive the subtlest flows of myst, but he had only scratched the surface of mastering it—his control sat just above novice level. Overuse left his eyes stinging painfully by morning, with the strange purple markings as a warning.
Then there was Shadow Passage—a spell that let him slip silently from one location to another, leaving no trace. But using it more than ten times in one night had consequences. The spell tore his body through dimensional folds of the abyss, and after repeated use, dizziness and body aches hit him like a storm.
Still, thanks to Mystica, his body was back to normal.
Moments later, he reached the double doors of the training hall.
'Thirty minutes left in class. Wonder if I'll get anything useful out of it.' He pushed one of the doors open.
Inside, he expected the others to be immersed in the holographic labyrinth, analyzing myst traces and tracking targets. Instead, his eyes met the curious gazes of his classmates, all standing a short distance away from Charlotte and some guy locked in a sparring match on one of the elevated mats.
Liam scanned the room briefly, noting Kaine standing nearby with arms crossed, his usual unreadable expression locked in place. Seraphina sat perched on a low platform, legs elegantly crossed, watching the match like a queen overseeing gladiators.
Liam made his way toward them, unfazed by the eyes that followed him. As he neared, he dipped his head slightly. "I've returned," he said in his usual calm tone.
Kaine didn't turn fully, only glanced at him from the corner of his eye. "Get in line," he said flatly.
Seraphina, on the other hand, perked up with sudden delight. "Ah! Finally, you're back. You've no idea how much I've missed you," she said dramatically, cupping her own face as if she were about to swoon.
Liam ignored the comment, eyes shifting back to Kaine. "I thought today was supposed to be for tracking."
"It was," Kaine began, but Seraphina cut in with a wave of her hand.
"I changed the plan. Tracking sounded dull. I decided today would be more fun if I watched you all spar," she said, pouting slightly. "You missed your chance to wipe the floor with the rest of them, unfortunately. But Charlotte's been keeping me very entertained with her fabulous self."
She stretched, then leaned forward with a playful glint in her eyes. "Still, there's about twenty-five minutes left. Why don't you and Charlotte put on a show for me, hmm?" she purred, tilting her head slightly.
Liam turned his gaze toward the sparring mat. Charlotte was clearly dominating the match—the guy she faced looked like he'd regret volunteering any second now.
"I've got no problem with that," Liam said calmly. "But won't Charlotte be exhausted? If I'm right, she's already sparred with everyone else. That guy was the last one, wasn't he?"
Seraphina waved a hand with a dismissive flourish. "Exhausted? Oh please. That girl could wrestle two Horror-class demons, walk it off, and still ask for dessert." Her smirk widened as she looked toward Charlotte. "Isn't that right, sweetheart?"
Charlotte had just slammed her opponent onto the mat with a fluid grappling twist. Standing tall, she rolled her shoulders, chest rising with steady, measured breaths. Sweat shimmered against her toned skin, but her expression was fierce and energized. "I've got enough left in the tank for one more," she said, flashing a toothy grin at Seraphina before locking eyes with Liam. "Especially for him."
The atmosphere shifted. A subtle ripple of anticipation spread through the room. A few students stepped back, as if instinctively sensing the stakes had just risen.
"Perfect," Seraphina said with a light clap, her voice filled with delight. "A private show from my two favorites. Just… don't shatter the flooring again, will you?"
Liam let out a silent sigh as he started walking toward the mat, each step calm and deliberate. As he passed Kaine, the instructor spoke without turning his head.
"Control. I want precision. No theatrics."
Liam gave a short nod and stepped onto the mat. Across from him, Charlotte bounced lightly on her feet, her form loose and limber, her wild grin razor-sharp. Her hair had been pulled back now, her jaguar-like instincts already surfacing in the way she shifted her weight.
"Ready to get folded, babe?" she teased, her voice playful and provocative.
"I'm waiting," Liam replied coolly, rolling up his sleeves with slow purpose. He dropped into a relaxed stance—hands low, posture casual—but his gaze was laser-focused. He was already studying her: her breathing, her stance, her myst flow—even though they couldn't use it, it betrayed her rhythm. He knew her speed, her reflexes… and her taste for the hunt.
Kaine's voice cut through the tension like a blade. "The rules are simple. Expose your opponent five times—neck, back, or eyes—and they're out. No magic. Just raw human skill."
Charlotte didn't hesitate.
The moment Kaine gave the word, she surged forward like a coiled spring, her feet gliding across the mat with terrifying grace. Her arms shot out in a blur, aiming for Liam's collar to pull him into a sweep—but he sidestepped smoothly, barely shifting his weight as her momentum carried her past him.
He flicked his hand upward—not to strike, but to tap her exposed shoulder just behind the neck. One.
Charlotte spun on her heel instantly, her smirk curling wider. "Cheap shot."
Liam shrugged, his stance unchanging. "A kill is a kill."
She narrowed her eyes, and this time, her approach was slower—calculated. A feint to the left, a duck, then a low sweep aimed at Liam's ankles.
He hopped over the leg, twisting midair and landing behind her, hand brushing the small of her back before he stepped away.
The watching students let out a quiet, collective murmur. Even Seraphina leaned forward slightly, interested.
"Damn," Charlotte muttered, resetting her footing. Her smile didn't waver, but there was a new glint in her eyes. This wasn't a friendly spar anymore—this was a hunt.
She lunged again, this time closing the gap completely. She pressed in hard—grapples, palm strikes, shoulder bumps. Liam blocked two, dodged one, and caught her wrist in a fluid movement, twisting just enough to spin her around—but she used the momentum to pivot and elbow toward his ribs.
He barely caught it with his forearm, but it left his side open. Her hand brushed his ribs, and she grinned.
They broke apart. Liam rolled his shoulder once.
Charlotte chuckled. "I'm just getting started."
They clashed again—closer now, faster. To the onlookers, it was nearly a blur. Charlotte's wild, aggressive flurry met Liam's calm, clinical precision. A jab at his throat—he ducked, tapped her shoulder.
A fake punch turned into a spin kick—Liam leaned back, but her foot grazed his temple lightly.
Breathing heavier now, Charlotte adjusted her stance. "You're reading me."
"You're broadcasting your next move with every breath," Liam replied calmly, watching her legs.
She inhaled sharply—and then did something unexpected. She stopped. No movement. No bounce. She just stood there. Centered. Balanced.
Liam narrowed his eyes slightly.
Then she dashed forward—faster than before, low and direct. A blur of elbows and knees. Liam blocked the first few, but she twisted suddenly, feinted upward, and caught his blind spot near his eyes.
He responded instantly—catching her ankle mid-turn, flipping her mid-air, and before she hit the mat, his palm stopped just inches from her neck.
Charlotte froze, her chest rising and falling. Her back was flat on the mat, Liam over her like a shadow.
"Damn," she breathed. "You're good."
Liam stood and offered a hand. "You were already exhausted, no big deal about this."
She took his hand and pulled herself up, panting. "Guess I still owe you a proper win."
"You can try again later," he said simply, already stepping off the mat.
From the platform, Seraphina let out a long, contented sigh. "Now that was a show."
Kaine remained cold, arms still folded. "Don't move... you still have to face me."