Before The Main Tournament

The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the academy grounds in hues of orange and purple as the first day of the Exchange finally concluded. 

The air buzzed with the residual energy of countless spells and the collective tension of the participants. Students filtered back to their respective dorms, some chatting excitedly about the battles and strategies, others walking silently, lost in thought.

Ashfelt Zephyr lingered behind, taking a slow walk through the quieter paths of the academy grounds. The cool evening breeze brushed against his skin, and the solitude gave him the clarity he sought. 

His mind replayed the events of the day—the chaotic melee of the prelims, Kellion's rage-fueled pursuit, and his own narrow escape from elimination.

"What a day," he muttered, his breath visible in the cooling air. "Still, I'll need to be even sharper for the main tournament."