Kael returned to F-Class without saying a word.
The S-Class training grounds disappeared behind him, replaced by the familiar sight of the lower-class facilities.
Old stone.
Worn training equipment.
A building that looked forgotten compared to the rest of the academy.
Nothing had changed.
The same students sat around the courtyard.
The same complaints filled the air.
The same feeling of being unwanted remained.
A group of students from another class passed by the entrance.
"Still F-Class?"
A laugh followed.
"Some things never change."
Kael continued walking.
Seven months ago, those words would have bothered him.
Now?
They were simply information.
People's opinions were rarely based on truth.
Only what they believed to be true.
And right now...
The academy believed F-Class was worthless.
---
The moment Kael entered the classroom, he placed his notebook on his desk.
Dren looked over.
"You were gone longer than usual."
"I was observing."
Dren raised an eyebrow.
"Observing?"
"The S-Class training grounds."
The room didn't react much.
Most students wouldn't even consider going there.
Why watch something they couldn't reach?
Kael disagreed.
The distance between himself and the strongest students was exactly why he needed to observe them.
"You went to watch S-Class?"
Dren leaned back.
"What did you learn?"
Kael was silent for a moment.
Then he opened his notebook.
"Everything."
Dren stared.
"...Everything?"
"No."
Kael corrected himself.
"Not everything."
He looked down at the pages filled with notes.
"Only the things I could understand."
---
That evening, Kael returned to the training grounds.
The old wooden dummy stood in front of him.
Seven months ago, he could barely damage one.
Now...
The surface was covered in cracks.
But Kael wasn't focused on destroying it.
He was focused on improving.
He remembered Auren Valcrest.
Not the power.
The efficiency.
Auren never moved unnecessarily.
Every step had purpose.
Every action had meaning.
Kael adjusted his stance.
Less movement.
Less wasted energy.
His fist moved.
Impact.
The dummy shook.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Then he changed.
The way Caelan Strade adapted during combat.
The way Elara Ashbourne controlled distance with her spear.
The way Prince Lucien Edevane trusted his spirits without hesitation.
Kael didn't copy their abilities.
He copied their understanding.
That was the difference.
---
"You changed."
Kael stopped.
Dren stood a few metres away, watching him.
"What?"
"Your fighting."
Dren walked closer.
"It's different."
Kael looked at his own hands.
"I learned from stronger opponents."
Dren smiled slightly.
"Most people watch strong people and just think they're strong."
"They don't think about why."
Kael nodded.
"Exactly."
Dren looked at the damaged training dummy.
"You know, sometimes you make it really annoying to compete with you."
"Why?"
"Because every time I think I've improved..."
He pointed at Kael.
"You already changed something."
Kael looked away.
"Then improve again."
Dren laughed.
"That's a terrible way to motivate someone."
"It works."
"Unfortunately, it does."
---
Later that night, Kael remained alone.
The academy had become quiet.
Most students had already returned to their dormitories.
But Kael continued training.
One more strike.
One more improvement.
One more step.
His fist moved forward.
And for a moment...
Something happened.
A tiny spark appeared.
Black.
Crimson.
So small that it almost seemed like a trick of the light.
Kael didn't notice.
The wooden dummy did.
The point where his fist connected cracked.
Not shattered.
Not broken.
The material seemed to weaken.
As if something had eaten away at its existence.
Kael pulled his hand back.
He stared at the damage.
"..."
He touched the crack.
No mana.
No strange energy.
Nothing.
After a moment, he looked away.
"I hit the same area too many times."
A simple explanation.
A logical explanation.
The only one he could find.
So he accepted it.
And continued training.
---
A short distance away...
Someone else had seen it.
Caelan Strade stood near the edge of the training grounds.
He had not intended to come here.
He was simply passing by.
But he stopped.
Because what he saw didn't make sense.
His emerald eyes narrowed.
Kael Virex.
An F-Class student.
A No-Path.
Yet his movements...
They weren't the movements of someone ordinary.
Caelan had spent his entire life studying combat.
He understood talent.
He understood hard work.
He understood natural ability.
Kael was something different.
He watched as Kael continued striking the dummy.
No hesitation.
No wasted motion.
Every attack became slightly better than the last.
Caelan's expression changed slightly.
"...Impossible."
Not because Kael was strong.
He wasn't.
Not yet.
But because he was improving at a rate that shouldn't exist.
A person without a Path had limits.
Everyone knew that.
So why did Kael keep moving past them?
---
Caelan looked toward the damaged training dummy.
He remembered the strange moment from earlier.
The black-and-crimson spark.
Only for an instant.
Most people wouldn't have noticed.
But Caelan had.
And now he had two possibilities.
Either...
Kael Virex possessed a dormant Path that had yet to awaken.
Or...
Something else was happening.
Something outside what the academy understood.
Caelan turned away.
He didn't tell anyone.
Not Auren.
Not the instructors.
Not even Elara.
Because he wasn't certain.
And uncertainty was dangerous.
But as he walked back toward the S-Class dormitories...
One thought remained.
"Kael Virex..."
"What exactly are you?"
Behind him, the sound of fists striking wood continued.
The F-Class student kept training.
Completely unaware that, for the first time...
Someone from the top of the academy had begun questioning him.