Third Training Ground.
The morning sun had only just risen past the eastern tower of the academy when broad swaths of golden light spilled across the obsidian paved training ground.
Victor's thirteen subordinates had already arrived even earlier than yesterday. Not a single person was late. Even Milo, the last to arrive, had come twelve minutes ahead of schedule.
The reason was simple. After realizing that Victor was really serious about pouring resources into them, they wanted to be in his good books.
At the center of the training ground, Noah stood alone before a moving sword target, repeatedly thrusting the ordinary iron sword in his hand. None of his strikes looked particularly impressive, but the angle of each thrust grew increasingly stable, the tip of his sword landing in almost exactly the same spot every time.
