Ryan entered the lecture hall after his last footsteps in the corridor. The heavy wooden door was still open, as if waiting for him. He pushed it gently to avoid drawing attention. But the moment he stepped inside, he felt the air change. The air inside was different – warmer, thicker with the bodies of students, more humid with their breath.
The lecture hall was spacious, its floor of white marble, the large windows overlooking the back garden where autumn leaves were slowly falling. The seats were arranged in stone tiers, capable of holding over two hundred students. On this first day, attendance was nearly full.
He found Edan sitting in the third row from the back. Edan had raised his hand, pointing to the empty seat beside him. Ryan walked to him and sat down, placing his sword on the floor beside him.
Edan whispered.
"You're five minutes late, but the professor hasn't arrived yet."
Ryan did not reply. He was still thinking of the girl who had bowed before him. Her face was still stuck in his mind – not the face he had seen in the vision, but the real face. Her green eyes, thanking him even though she didn't know him. He didn't know her name. He didn't know why she was in that corner. He didn't know why those boys had chosen her specifically.
But he did know one thing: their gazes. The way they looked at the girl as if she were a thing, not a person. He knew those looks. He had seen them before, in eyes he did not want to remember.
Edan asked.
"Are you alright?"
"Yes."
Edan did not push. He knew when to stop.
They sat in silence. Some other students were talking in low voices, discussing the schedule, the elective subjects, the teachers. Some of them still carried thick books under their arms, others were reviewing handwritten notes.
Two rows in front of Ryan, a noble student was sitting – he wore a robe made of finer fabric. He was speaking a little loudly, as if he wanted everyone to hear him. He was describing a fictional training duel, perhaps, or boasting about a private tutor. Ryan did not listen much. But his voice reminded him of the three boys who had been tormenting the girl moments ago.
Ryan asked, nodding toward the group in front of him.
"Do you know any of them?"
"No. But they seem to be nobles from the capital. Perhaps from generals' families."
Ryan pointed to three students sitting in the far corner, heads close together, speaking in almost a whisper.
"And them?"
"I don't know. Perhaps students from the provinces."
The main door of the hall opened.
The professor entered.
He was a huge man, bald-headed, his face covered with old scars. They were not ordinary scars – some were from burns, some from swords, some from something else Ryan couldn't identify. His arms were bare, covered with dark tattoos – perhaps military symbols, perhaps ancient spells. He wore the standard academy uniform, but it was modified – his sleeves were cut off, his chest slightly open, as if he didn't want his clothes to hide his scars. His face did not smile, did not welcome. It was the face of a man who had seen more battles than classrooms.
He climbed the podium slowly. He moved like someone accustomed to walking on unstable ground. He looked at the students with his cold grey eyes, then spoke.
His voice was deep, rough, as if used on battlefields more than in halls.
"I am Professor Darius. This lecture – Combat Strategies – two lectures per week, purely theoretical. The practical application will be in a separate lecture."
A short silence.
"Combat strategies are not just skills. Not just elements. Combat strategies are... how to survive."
He began walking between the aisles as he spoke.
"Many believe that strength lies in the element. In the amount of spark. In the level of ability. That is wrong."
He stopped in front of a student in the front row. He looked down at him. The student wore a fine robe, He was smiling confidently, but his smile faded when the professor stood before him.
"Strength lies in the mind. In the ability to read your opponent. In knowing when to strike and when to retreat. In understanding your environment and exploiting it to your advantage."
He continued his path.
"I will teach you how to think. How to analyze. How to make decisions in split seconds. Because on the battlefield, hesitation means death."
He returned to the podium.
"Now, open your notebooks. We will begin with the basic rules."