The training room echoed faintly with the sound of ether striking against reinforced dummies.
The heavy scent of sweat and ether lingered in the air, showing how long the second years had been training.
A tall girl with a crimson braid slammed her fist into the dummyâs chest as ether flared around her knuckles.
The barrier flickered violently before stabilizing again and she exhaled sharply, sweat rolling down her temple.
"Damn it," she muttered, wiping her forehead with the back of her wrist.
A lean, sharp-eyed brunette leaning against the wall spoke up, "Youâre worked up, Meryn. Donât tell me itâs about him again."
Merynâs lips curled in a bitter smile "Of course itâs about him. Isnât it always these days?"
She raised her voice a little, looking around at the others. "Everywhere we go- itâs Herald this, Herald that. Brandon Kael this, Brandon Kael that. And what are we? Just background noise?"
The room quieted at her words.
The Academy isnât just about training; itâs also about distribution of resources.
Rare ether artifacts, dungeon slots, private instructors, and sponsorships are limited. Rankings decide who gets priority access.
With Brandon around, many first-years are suddenly given extra slots, attention, and training opportunities... meaning the second-years lose chances they desperately need to advance.
From their perspective- âWe waited our turn, struggled, and now our hard-earned place is stolen by someone who just walked in.â
Many second-years are scions of noble or influential families whose mothers expect results.
Their rank at the Academy directly impacts their future postings, political weight, and marriage prospects.
Brandonâs fame is destabilizing... sponsors and recruiters are already circling him and his peers, making older students appear irrelevant.
In this world, women hold positions of power, while men are heavily restricted. Brandon is the only exception.
To some second-years, this feels like a mockery of the system they grew up believing in.
They trained under harsh expectations, knowing only women could lead and dominate, and now one boy is allowed to leapfrog the hierarchy?
With a deep breath, Meryn spoke "The Tournament decides who gets scouted. Noble Houses, military divisions, even corporate sponsors... they all watch us here. And now? All theyâll be watching is him. Not us. Not you, not me."
Another girl out a harsh laugh, "And what makes it worse? He doesnât even seem to care. He just shows up when he wants and disappears when he wants, and the world bends around him."
"Thatâs the part that burns me most," another chimed in.
"If he at least acted arrogant, if he spat on us, I could hate him properly. But no, heâs just... there. Like he doesnât even realize what heâs taking from us."
One of the quieter girls, "We... still have two more years," she said, glancing toward Meryn.
"So donât fret too much about it, Meryn. We can still climb, we can still make names for ourselves."
Merynâs head snapped toward her, "Two more years? Do you think the Houses will wait that long? Do you think sponsors will?"
"This tournament isnât just about ranking... itâs our chance to secure futures before the next wave of first-years comes in. Every year we delay, another class of girls rises behind us. And now the spotlightâs stolen by him."
The braided girl flinched but stood her ground. "I just mean... weâre still strong. Weâre not nobodies. Even if heâs the Herald, they canât ignore us forever."
The silver-haired one, Seliora let out a bitter laugh. "Thatâs naĂŻve, Ryn. They can and they will. Because every recruiter, every reporter, and every noble brat will be pointing their crystals at him. No one else."
"You think theyâll waste ink writing about second-year girls when they can write about the first male ether-wielder in history?"
Everyone stayed silent upon hearing this.
Meryn, standing with her arms folded tightly across her chest, said nothing, but the faint curl at the edge of her lips showed her satisfaction at Selioraâs words.
Her gaze swept over the room, watching each girl squirm.
However, a short black-haired woman who has been quietly stretching near the racks of training weapons lifted her eyes.
She glanced at Meryn suspiciously âWhy do I feel like.. she is deliberately trying to stir things between first years and second years?â
Hisakaâs brow twitched faintly, but she smoothed her expression before anyone could notice.
The last thing she wanted was to draw attention.
âI shouldnât care about their petty feuds. It doesnât matter if Brandon Kael overshadows the others. My path is already set. I just need to prove myself, rank high, and secure my place... for Mother.â
Her fingers tightened slightly on the strap of her practice spear as she let out a deep breath.
Around her, Seliora continued with her lecture, feeding the unease.
"And donât think the Houses wonât use him either. The Herald or not, heâll warp the rankings. The tournament was meant to showcase us. But now?" Her silver eyes narrowed like blades.
"Now weâre just supporting cast."
A few of the girls flinched, some glanced away, and others clenched their fists.
---
The training room had long since emptied.
Hisaka exhaled slowly, lowering her spear after one last drill.
Her arms ached, and sweat rolled down her temple âEnough for today.â
She wiped her face with the edge of her sleeve and quickly changed her clothes.
After wearing a neat set of clothes, she stepped out into the academyâs late evening air.
The campus was quiet at this hour, as most students were in their dorms, some asleep, others cramming for exams.
Then- "KYAAAAA!"
A high-pitched scream split the silence.
Hisaka turned her head toward the sound and ether stirred at her core as she dashed toward the source of the sound.
âAn attack? A rupture?!â
She rounded the grove of trees and froze in silence as she looked at the scene before her.
There, in the open field, Brandon was dashing barefoot across the grass with Eira clinging to his back, laughing uncontrollably as she tugged at his shoulders like a child demanding a faster ride.
"Hahahaha, catch me if you can..."
Yverine with her sleeves rolled up, chased after them with surprising energy, trying to grab Eira off his back.
Dhayun leaned against a tree nearby, giggling behind her hand at the chaos.
The girlsâ laughter echoed through the quiet evening and their shadows danced in the evening sunlight as they darted around.
Brandon zigzagged past a tree, nearly tripping, while Eira squealed like it was the most thrilling ride of her life.
"Bahahaha!"
Hisaka blinked once "...What the hell are you doing this late?" she muttered aloud, unable to stop the words.
The laughter stopped and Brandon slowed mid-sprint, turning his head with Eira still latched onto his back like a smug koala.
Yverine stopped in her tracks, straightening her posture instantly and Dhayunâs giggles choked into an embarrassed cough.
Hisaka stood at the edge of the field with her black hair sticking slightly to her damp skin and stared at them.
The silence stretched for a beat too long.
Hisakaâs gaze lingered on Brandon with Eira still on his back, Yverine standing with her hands half-raised, and Dhayun trying not to burst out laughing again.
Then, without a word, Hisaka exhaled and walked away as she doesnât like getting attention.
Brandon stood there, frozen mid-step, before letting out a dry chuckle. "Well... that was embarrassing..."
Eira slid off his back at last and pressed her lips together, trying to suppress another giggle, but failed miserably. "You shouldâve seen your face when she showed up... Hahahaha."
"She looked at us like we are some bunch of idiots."
Brandon shook his head helplessly, brushing a few stray blades of grass from his sleeve as he looked at the three girls "Letâs leave..."
"Okie dokie,"
But before they could even take a step, Yverineâs eyes narrowed "On our ride back home, I will sit with Brandon in the front seat."
Eira instantly turned around "Huh? No, it should be me."
Brandon blinked, already sensing where this was heading â...Here we go.â
Dhanyun grinned upon hearing this "Well, if thatâs the case- no, no. It should be me. Obviously."
Yverine bristled at Dhayun "What makes you think you deserve the seat?"
Eira lifted her chin. "I sat with him in the morning, yes. But that just means today balances out if I sit again. Donât twist logic, Sister Yve."
"That doesnât even make sense."
Eira smiled smugly, "Besides, I like how he squeezes my thighs when I sit beside him."
Yverine stared at her blankly and Dhayun couldnât help but laugh.
"Then today, I will sit beside him and I will let him squeeze my thighs."
Eira and Yverine were practically nose-to-nose by now, their voices rising with each back-and-forth jab.
"I deserve the front seat more!" Yverine snapped, jabbing her finger at her own chest.
Eira shot right back, "First girlfriendâs privilege. That trumps everything, Sister Yve."
"Oh, please-"
Brandon just stood there for a moment, watching them and a fond smile tugged at his lips.
Finally, he turned to the one person who was not contributing to the chaos.
He slipped an arm around Dhayunâs shoulders and pulled her closer, resting his chin lightly on the crown of her head.
"Noona," he murmured softly, "Letâs leave... theyâll keep fighting forever if we stay."
Dhanyun smiled and tilted her head slightly against his chest, closing her eyes for a brief second before hugging him back.
"Yes, Woonie,"
Side by side, still holding onto each other, the two of them began walking toward the parking lot at their own pace.
It didnât take long before Eira realized what was happening "H-Hey! Wait!"
"Brandon! Dhayun!"
Both of them hurriedly rushed after Brandon and their fight was instantly forgotten.