The noise didn't fade after the duel.
If anything—
it spread.
"Did you see that?"
"Rank 63 beat 54…"
"He barely won though."
"Still counts."
The Ranking Board shimmered faintly as names shifted.
A new position locked in place.
Lysander Vale — Rank 54
Lysander stood near the edge of the courtyard again.
Same place as before.
But it didn't feel the same.
More eyes lingered now.
Not all of them—
but enough.
Some curious.
Some dismissive.
Some calculating.
"…You moved up fast."
Taro stepped beside him, arms crossed, staring at the board.
Then he glanced at Lysander.
"…That was close."
"It was," Lysander said.
Taro let out a short laugh.
"I thought you were about to get hit at least twice."
"…Same."
That earned him a look.
"…You're serious?"
Lysander nodded once.
"I wasn't fully adjusted."
Taro shook his head.
"…That's crazy."
The noise around them shifted again.
Another duel had started.
Then another.
But the attention didn't fully leave.
Lysander could feel it.
Not heavy.
Not overwhelming.
Just… present.
He adjusted his grip on the practice blade at his side.
Then relaxed it.
Still the same.
Nothing changed.
…Except it had.
A group of students passed nearby.
One of them slowed slightly as he looked at Lysander.
"…That's him."
"Doesn't look like much."
"He won, didn't he?"
"Barely."
They kept walking.
Lysander didn't react.
That kind of talk didn't matter.
But it stayed in the air.
Another match ended.
"Winner — Rank 38!"
The crowd shifted again.
Taro leaned forward slightly.
"…You going again?"
"Not now."
"Why?"
Lysander looked toward the arena.
Students moving.
Fighting.
Winning.
Losing.
"…Still watching."
Taro exhaled through his nose.
"…You're weird."
Lysander didn't deny it.
A presence approached from the side.
Not loud.
Not forced.
Just… steady.
"Hey."
Lysander turned.
Leon Valerian stood a short distance away.
Up close, the difference was clearer.
Not just strength—
presence.
But there was nothing heavy about it.
Just someone used to standing where people looked.
"That was a good fight," Leon said.
Lysander nodded.
"…Thanks."
Leon tilted his head slightly.
"You adjusted halfway through."
A pause.
"…Not many people do that mid-fight."
"It wasn't clean," Lysander said.
Leon smiled a little.
"Yeah. That's why it worked."
Taro blinked.
"…Wait, what?"
Leon glanced at him briefly.
"If it was clean, it'd be predictable."
Then back to Lysander.
"You don't fight like the others."
Lysander didn't respond.
Because he wasn't sure what that meant yet.
Leon didn't push it.
"Anyway," he said, stepping back slightly, "don't drop too fast after climbing."
"…I won't."
Leon gave a small nod.
Then turned and walked off without another word.
Taro stared after him.
"…That guy talks like he's giving advice and warning you at the same time."
"…Maybe he is."
The courtyard shifted again.
And then—
quietly—
another presence stopped nearby.
Lysander didn't turn immediately.
He already knew.
Valeria Frostborn stood a short distance away.
Pale blue hair.
Unmoving gaze.
She wasn't looking at the board.
She was looking at him.
"…You adjusted your timing," she said.
Not praise.
Not criticism.
Just observation.
Lysander nodded.
"A little."
A brief pause.
"You're still inconsistent."
"…I know."
Her eyes didn't move.
"…But less than before."
That was new.
Lysander looked at her.
She wasn't impressed.
She wasn't disappointed either.
Just… measuring.
Again.
Then—
without another word—
she turned and walked away.
Taro let out a breath.
"…She's going to keep watching you, isn't she?"
"…Looks like it."
Further back—
beyond the main crowd—
Cassian Dreadmoor stood with his arms folded.
He hadn't moved since the duel ended.
His gaze stayed where it had been.
On Lysander.
Not curious.
Not surprised.
Just… interested.
Faintly.
The next match began.
Then another.
Time passed.
But the space around Lysander didn't return to normal.
Not completely.
A student approached—
then stopped halfway—
and turned away.
Another looked like he wanted to speak—
but didn't.
Taro frowned.
"…You feel that?"
"…Yeah."
"…Annoying, right?"
"…A little."
A voice cut through the noise.
"Rank 54."
Lysander turned.
A different noble stood at the edge of the duel circle.
Tall.
Composed.
Weapon already in hand.
"Are you going to defend your position?"
The nearby students quieted slightly.
Taro muttered,
"…That didn't take long."
Lysander looked at the challenger.
Then at the board.
Then back.
"…Not right now."
A small shift in the crowd.
The noble didn't react much.
"…Then don't lose it."
He turned and stepped into another duel circle instead.
The moment passed.
But not completely.
Taro exhaled.
"…Yeah, no. You're not staying unnoticed anymore."
Lysander didn't answer.
He already knew.
He looked toward the Ranking Board again.
Rank 54
Not high.
Not safe either.
Somewhere in the distance—
another match ended.
Another name changed.
Another step forward.
And without realizing it—
Lysander had already been pulled further in