The twelfth morning didn't feel like the beginning of a lesson. It felt like a continuation of something that had never really ended. The exhaustion from the previous day hadn't faded. It lingered in their bodies—in their legs, their shoulders, the quiet heaviness behind every movement. But it wasn't just physical. It was mental. The kind that didn't disappear with rest. Because now, they knew what was coming.
The courtyard was quieter than before, but not still. Students were already moving—not out of routine, but necessity. Some stretched slowly, testing their balance. Others gathered mana in short bursts, letting it flicker, stabilize, and fade again. No one wasted effort. No one spoke much. Because today, they didn't have the luxury to.
