"Something is off about that boy," Elyndra whispered to Astrael.
"Hmm? Why do you think so?" Astrael replied with a hint of confusion in his voice.
"Just an intuition, you could say," she said casually, but Astrael could sense the subtle weight in her tone. Elyndra never spoke without reason.
He kept his eyes locked on Arthur.
The eye of the storm, Arthur, keeps on moving without a pause.
Ninety-two.
Ninety-five.
Ninety-nine.
One hundred.
The moment Arthur stepped onto the final stair, a wave of stunned silence swept across the hall, quickly followed by gasps and a chorus of disbelief.
"He… he did it?"
"What is going on today? First a high-grade mage talent… and now a supreme one?"
"Am I dreaming? This can't be real."
