The Swordsmanship Club training hall was one of the largest buildings in the academy.
A long wooden arena stretched across the center of the room.
Weapon racks lined the walls.
Training dummies stood in rows.
The scent of polished steel and wood filled the air.
Nearly thirty students gathered inside.
Some stretched.
Others practiced swings.
The sound of blades cutting through the air echoed throughout the hall.
Lysander stepped inside quietly.
Taro followed behind him, looking around excitedly.
"This place is awesome."
Lysander nodded slightly.
It was well built.
Perfect for training.
At the far end of the hall, someone stood watching the students.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
Dark hair tied behind his head.
A long sword rested against his shoulder.
His presence alone commanded attention.
The moment he stepped forward, the room fell silent.
"Welcome."
His voice was calm but firm.
"I'm Rowan Kael."
"Third-year."
"Rank B."
Several students straightened immediately.
B rank.
That was extremely strong for a student.
Rowan crossed his arms.
"I run the Swordsmanship Club."
"If you're here to swing swords randomly…"
His gaze swept across the room.
"…leave."
No one moved.
Rowan nodded once.
"Good."
He pointed toward the arena.
"First lesson."
"Swordsmanship isn't about strength."
He drew his blade in a smooth motion.
The movement was clean.
Efficient.
Controlled.
Then he sheathed it again.
"Control."
"Balance."
"Timing."
"These matter more than brute force."
Lysander watched carefully.
The motion was familiar.
Not the same as Void Draw—
But the principles were similar.
Rowan gestured toward the practice area.
"Pair up."
"Basic sparring."
Students quickly formed groups.
Taro immediately grabbed Lysander.
"Partner!"
Lysander sighed quietly.
"Of course."
They stepped into the arena.
Across the room, other students began fighting.
Steel clashed.
Wooden blades struck.
Shouts echoed across the hall.
Rowan walked through the arena, observing each pair.
Correcting stances.
Adjusting grips.
Then—
A cold wave of mana spread across the room.
Everyone paused.
Valeria Frostborn stepped into the arena.
Her pale-blue hair swayed slightly as she drew her blade.
Ice mana gathered around the weapon.
Several students stepped back instinctively.
Rowan nodded toward her.
"Show them."
Valeria didn't respond.
She simply moved.
Her sword cut through the air.
One strike.
Two.
Three.
Each movement smooth.
Precise.
Ice formed along the blade's edge as she swung.
The temperature in the room dropped slightly.
Then she stopped.
The training dummy in front of her collapsed.
Cleanly cut into four pieces.
Silence filled the room.
Rowan nodded once.
"Good."
Valeria sheathed her sword and stepped away.
She never looked at the other students.
Never acknowledged them.
Including Lysander.
Just like earlier.
Rowan continued walking through the arena.
Eventually he stopped near Lysander and Taro.
Taro swung his sword wildly.
Lysander blocked easily.
Rowan watched for a moment.
Then spoke.
"You."
Lysander looked up.
"Yes?"
Rowan pointed at his stance.
"Your footwork."
Lysander blinked.
"…What about it?"
Rowan frowned slightly.
"It's strange."
Lysander stayed silent.
Rowan continued studying him.
"You move like someone who trained before."
"But your attacks are too cautious."
He tilted his head slightly.
"Why?"
Lysander shrugged.
"Still learning."
Rowan stared for a moment longer.
Then nodded slowly.
"…Fine."
But as he walked away—
He spoke quietly.
"Don't waste potential."
Lysander watched him go.
Interesting.
Rowan had noticed something.
But not enough to expose him.
Training continued for another hour.
Sweat covered the arena floor.
Students gradually improved their stances.
But one person was watching carefully from the upper balcony.
Seraphina Solari.
Student Council President.
Lightning energy flickered faintly around her presence.
Her golden eyes studied the training hall below.
Specifically—
One student.
Lysander Vale.
She spoke quietly to herself.
"…That one again."
Her gaze narrowed slightly.
"I wonder…"
"…what you're hiding.