The courtyard was quiet.
Not empty—but stilled, like the hush before a blade fell.
Kael leaned against the marble column near the council wing, arms crossed, eyes distant as a breeze danced through the training banners above. The morning sun cast long shadows, and the air carried the weight of decisions.
Inside, the selection committee had already finished debating.
But everyone knew it didn't matter what they said.
Because the only real voices that held power in this room—
—belonged to Kael Riven and Lucien Thorne.
Their duel six months ago had carved that truth into stone.
No winner. No loser. Only two seventeen-year-olds who refused to fall, bleeding and smiling through shattered ribs and bruised pride until the referee stopped the madness. Two monsters who'd long surpassed anything the academy expected.
Now, they stood as the academy's unshakable pillars.
And they had a team to build.
Not that it mattered who else joined.
No one came close.
The final selection was ceremonial more than practical.
A dozen names had been proposed. Whittled down to six.
But only one caused a pause.
Selene.
She was no martial prodigy.
Not a genius caster. Not a warrior of repute.
But her mind?
Her mind was terrifying.
Tactical drills? Flawless.
Simulations? She'd beaten instructor-designed scenarios in half the time, with half the resources.
And perhaps most importantly—she never sought glory.
Lucien was the first to speak when her name came up.
"We need a brain. Someone who sees the field like a board. That's her."
Kael said nothing for a moment.
Then gave a single nod.
"Agreed."
There was no argument.
Just like that, Selene was chosen.
Not for power. Not for fame.
But because she made sense.
And both of them knew it.
By evening, the chosen were gathered at the western gate—beyond which lay the sealed grounds of the Human Training Encampment.
An ancient, warded domain used once every ten years.
No Elves.
No Demons.
No Dragonoids.
No eyes from beyond the walls.
Just humans.
And the pressure to not place last again.
Kael stepped through the gate first.
The magic shimmered over his skin like cold smoke before fading.
Lucien followed, dragging his cloak lazily over one shoulder.
The others trailed behind. Silent. Nervous.
Selene didn't look anxious, though.
She walked with that same calm calculation—arms behind her back, gaze sharp and assessing. Already dissecting the terrain, the barracks, the observation towers in the distance. She hadn't even set down her bag before she pointed toward the far hill.
"That would be the highest ground. If this were a battle scenario, it would give line of sight over the eastern forest. But we'd be exposed to—"
"No battles yet," Lucien cut in with a smirk. "We're here to bond, remember?"
Selene narrowed her eyes at him.
Kael looked between them, then at the sprawling camp ahead.
Open grounds. Isolated paths. Shadowed corners perfect for ambushes or coordination.
It wasn't meant to break them.
It was meant to reveal who could stand with monsters.
And who couldn't.
Their assignment came swiftly.
The instructors—veterans, war-tested and unbothered—gave a single task to Kael and Lucien:
"No individual sparring. No solo showcases. We've seen what you can do alone."
"Your only purpose here is to learn how to work together."
Simple words.
But they cut deeper than any blade.
Kael didn't flinch.
Lucien sighed dramatically. "How tragic. No showing off."
Kael looked at him. "We don't need to show off."
Lucien grinned. "Right. Just need to win."
Training began the next morning.
It wasn't elegant.
It wasn't clean.
But it was real.
They learned who flinched under pressure. Who froze when Kael shouted orders. Who hesitated when Lucien switched tactics without warning.
They learned how many couldn't keep up.
They learned how Selene could see it all—before it happened.
She didn't command with volume. She pointed. She corrected. She pulled them back from chaos with three words and a calm tone.
By the end of the second day, even the skeptical ones were following her lead.
And Kael saw it.
He didn't say much.
But the look he gave her—short, focused, just a slight nod after a well-called maneuver—
Selene noticed.
Her fingers curled faintly behind her back.
Later that night, as the campfire crackled and the others slept in scattered barracks, Kael and Lucien sat by the edge of the hill overlooking the silent woods.
"You think we'll win?" Lucien asked lazily, tossing a pebble into the darkness.
Kael didn't answer right away.
Instead, he stared ahead, eyes gleaming in the low firelight.
"Doesn't matter," he said. "We're not losing."
Lucien chuckled. "Spoken like a man with no interest in fourth place."
Kael didn't smile.
But inside—deep beneath that calm exterior—
The fire had begun to burn brighter.
Not just for pride.
Not even for the academy.
But because for the first time—
He wasn't alone.
And he had something that felt dangerously close to a reason.