Chapter 17: The Art of Misdirection

 The academy was buzzing the next morning, a hive of excitement and speculation.

 Rumors spread like wildfire through the stone hallways, whispered in corners and shouted across courtyards.

 Some students whispered about how Arashi had impressed Elias, their voices hushed with awe.

 Others speculated about his mysterious midnight conversation with Selene, embellishing the details with each retelling. 

 A few even claimed he had defeated a ferocious beast single-handedly in the dark woods, describing the creature's fangs and claws with vivid imagination.

Arashi, of course, had done none of that.

But he didn't bother correcting them. Not even once.

Let them believe what they wanted. Let their imaginations run wild.

Misdirection was a powerful tool—and right now, it was working perfectly in his favor. 

The more they talked, the less they saw.

As Arashi stepped into the training hall, the usual morning chatter dimmed to a hush. 

He felt several eyes on him—some darting away when he glanced in their direction, others lingering boldly.

Some gazes were filled with newfound curiosity, seeking to unravel his secrets. 

Others held caution, as if he might suddenly reveal hidden powers. A few even glinted with barely concealed envy.

But one gaze, in particular, was openly amused.

Leonhardt. Again.

The knight leaned against a pillar, arms crossed, grinning as Arashi approached.

 His pristine uniform contrasted sharply with Arashi's deliberately disheveled appearance.

"You're famous now, you know that?" Leonhardt said, voice carrying enough to ensure nearby students could overhear.

 "They're talking about you in the instructors' quarters too."

Arashi sighed, shoulders slumping slightly. "Tragic."

Leonhardt laughed, the sound echoing through the hall. "Elias wants to see you."

That made Arashi pause mid-step.

 The name hung in the air between them, heavy with implications.

"He sent you?" Arashi's voice remained neutral, but his mind raced through possibilities.

Leonhardt smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief.

 "No. I just overheard him talking about you to Commander Voss. Said something about wanting to test a theory."

Arashi's expression remained unreadable, though his pulse quickened slightly.

'A theory, huh?'

Elias wasn't just any noble. He was a strategist, renowned for his ability to see through deception.

 He never acted without reason, never spoke without purpose.

Which meant... he suspected something. And suspicion was dangerous.

"Should I be concerned?" Arashi asked, voice deliberately casual.

Leonhardt tilted his head, studying Arashi with newfound interest.

 "Probably. But hey, that's what makes it exciting, right?" His grin widened. "Not everyone gets personal attention from a person like him."

'Exciting for who?' Arashi thought, his mind already calculating escape routes and contingency plans.

The academy gardens were unusually quiet when Arashi arrived. 

Sunlight filtered through ancient trees, casting dappled shadows across the stone pathways. The scent of rare blossoms hung in the air, sweet and cloying.

Elias waited beside the central fountain, the rushing water masking any approaching footsteps.

 He stood with his arms crossed, watching the water dance with an air of deep thought, his noble profile sharp against the afternoon light.

Arashi deliberately scuffed his boot against stone, announcing his presence.

Elias didn't startle. He merely turned, ever composed.

"You're a hard man to find, Kurobane." His voice was silk over steel.

Arashi remained silent, letting the tension build between them.

Elias turned to him fully now, his gaze sharp and assessing, like a predator cataloging its prey's weaknesses.

"I've been observing you," Elias said, each word measured and precise. "And I've come to a conclusion."

Arashi raised an eyebrow, feigning mild interest. "Oh?"

"You're either far weaker than you appear..." Elias paused, his eyes never leaving Arashi's face, "...or far stronger."

Silence stretched between them, broken only by the fountain's constant murmur.

Arashi merely tilted his head, the ghost of a smile playing at his lips. "That's quite a gap between possibilities."

Elias smirked, the expression not quite reaching his calculating eyes. "Isn't it?"

Arashi met his gaze evenly, refusing to be the first to look away. Every instinct screamed caution.

'He's testing me. Watching for tells. For cracks in the facade.'

"Tell me," Elias continued, circling slightly, his boots silent on the stone path. "If you were to duel someone above your level, how would you win?"

Arashi thought for a moment, weighing his response carefully.

Then, he smiled faintly, deliberately enigmatic.

"Why would I fight at all?"

Elias's eyes flickered with interest, like a scholar finding an unexpected passage in a familiar text. "Ah. The mind of a strategist, not a warrior."

Arashi remained unreadable, a blank page refusing to be written upon.

"You're a strange one, Kurobane," Elias said, stepping closer. His voice dropped lower, meant for Arashi's ears alone. "And I don't like mysteries I can't solve."

Arashi simply turned, presenting his back in a subtle challenge. "Then I suggest you stop trying."

He walked away, footsteps unhurried, shoulders relaxed—a perfect mask of indifference.

 But his senses remained alert, half-expecting a blade or spell to strike his unprotected back.

Behind him, Elias stood motionless—watching, analyzing, deep in thought.

Shadows stretched long across Arashi's dormitory floor as evening fell.

 The day's events replayed in his mind as he absently traced patterns on the worn desk surface.

Elias's interest was dangerous. Unwanted attention always was.

A soft knock interrupted his thoughts, so faint he almost missed it.

Arashi tensed, hand instinctively reaching for the hidden blade beneath his mattress. 

No one should be seeking him at this hour.

He approached the door silently, listening. Nothing.

Carefully, he opened it—only to find the hallway empty and a single letter on the floor. 

The parchment was high quality, but plain. No sender. No insignia. No wax seal to trace.

Just one sentence written in elegant script, the ink still faintly wet:

"You have their attention. Be careful."

Arashi's fingers tightened around the paper, crinkling its edges. 

The warning was clear, but the source remained a mystery. An ally? Or simply another player positioning their pieces?

He closed the door silently, burning the note with a whispered word and watching as the ashes drifted to the floor.

So.

The game was truly beginning.

And he couldn't afford to lose.