From the very start of the duel trials, a brutal truth had settled into the minds of the spectators :
Igris was being crushed.
One by one, their recruits fell — swept aside with no resistance by the merciless might of the higher-ranked students.
No one was surprised. Not even the victims themselves.
With a meager budget, outdated gear, exhausted teachers, and meditation techniques worn down to the bone, Igris clearly didn't stand a chance.
Opposite them stood House Sylvian —second-to-last in Genesis rankings, yet radiating a cold, ruthless brilliance.
In the stands, students drifted away, bored by the massacre.
— "It's not even fun anymore." muttered a Sylvian student.
— "I thought they'd at least bleed a little before giving up." Joked another.
The laughter was hollow, tired.
Only the sadists stayed, savoring the final moments of Igris's humiliation.
The rest left, like after a badly acted play.
In the mentors' booth, Lady Lise, head teacher of Igris, watched in silence.
