The weight of mana still pressed down, but neither Kairo nor Igron wavered. The throne room was silent, every pair of eyes waiting for their words.
Igron grinned, lips curling like a blade unsheathed.
"What do I want?" His voice rang sharp, defiant. "Rivals. In every kind. Strong ones. I want to fight until I've cut down every wall in my way."
The Hound's lips twitched, almost a smile beneath his helm. The man beside them swallowed hard, but Lady Eryndor only chuckled low in her throat.
Then her gaze shifted to Kairo.
"And you?"
The crimson-eyed boy did not answer immediately.
For in that moment, the world around him seemed to fall silent—dissolving into a void of echoing whispers.
"You walk among mortals with the blood of gods upon you…" The voice thundered, deep and resonant, as if from the marrow of the earth and the sky above.
Another voice followed, sharper, electric—like storms cracking across the heavens.
"Here, in the Upper Middle, they bend the elements of the old ones. Lightning of Zeus. Flames of Prometheus. Wisdom of Athena. Do you not see, immortal child? These schools are more than halls… they are keys. Keys to the fire of gods you've long buried."
Kairo's breath slowed. His crimson gaze flickered faintly, pupils narrowing as the voices of the old ones wrapped around him. He could almost see the storms, the flames, the endless pantheon burning with expectation.
Then—reality returned. The throne room. The waiting gazes. The crushing mana.
Kairo blinked once, lifting his chin.
"…School."
The word was plain, steady, but carried the weight of his revelation. His eyes did not waver from Lady Eryndor's.
"I want to learn. Not just survival. I want… knowledge."
A strange silence fell. Igron's grin faltered, curiosity flickering in his eyes. Lady Eryndor sat back, her smile widening, intrigued beyond measure.
"Rivals and knowledge…" she murmured. "Fire and ice, side by side. Hound—do you see? They are not like the others."
The Hound lowered his head deeper.
"I see, my lady."