It was on some other day.

The past few days had been slow and heavy, dragging on with a deadening monotony. Ethan had found nothing new to fill his time—just the usual patrols and routine walks, either with Morana or Frenith. The boredom was almost unbearable.

Even the investigation into the attackers had barely moved forward, despite the news that Catherine had finally woken up at the clinic.Val had informed them right away and began questioning her harshly, hoping to get something useful. But it was pointless.

Even when Fedregon and Zev stepped in, they didn't get far. Catherine was sharp-tongued and stubborn, dodging every question about who the attackers were or what they wanted.

Though she hinted that she might recognize them, all she revealed was that they were students, likely from the third to fifth grades. She insisted it was her first time meeting them.

Despite the frustration and wasted time, Fedregon decided to leave her alone for now. Her condition was still fragile—she needed rest, even if that meant defying orders from above. Of course, no one believed they had let her go completely. Val kept a close eye on her, always watching.

As for Oren, he had spent the last four days in near-complete darkness. His vision had vanished without warning, leaving behind only a fragile hope—one the doctors mentioned might restore his sight. He clung to that hope with everything he had, and so did Val.

On the outside, Oren looked calm. But inside, a storm raged. He felt helpless for the first time in his life, terrified that the blindness might be permanent. What hurt him most wasn't just losing his sight—it was the thought of being dismissed from the Black Discipline elite. That was something he couldn't accept.

What helped him endure were the visits from friends and colleagues, bringing small gifts and wishes for a swift recovery. But no one was more supportive than Val.Every morning, at sunrise, Val was the first to knock on his door, sharing stories, news, and keeping Oren from feeling isolated. Even at meals, Val stayed by his side, making sure he never felt forgotten.

The days felt dull and repetitive, yet somehow filled with quiet meaning. The Council kept themselves busy with scattered tasks, trying to pass the time. Deep down, they all felt the same thing: time was standing still, waiting for something unsaid.

the large training hall was the perfect setting for a sparring match. Ethan stood by, wearing his belt and sword, watching Morana and Frenith train in the center of the ring.

They had about half an hour before the evening watch began this time under Zev's command. That meant they wouldn't have to wait long.

Morana attacked fiercely, her blade clashing again and again against Frenith's.

He blocked every strike with ease 

She boasted with each swing, claiming she had fought in Olympus, where few boys could match her strength. Yet even as she drove Freneth back with a powerful strike, she admitted he was still as skilled as ever.

In seventeen days of sparring, she had rarely managed to throw him off balance like she just did.

She had always believed her reputation in Olympus was why people called her talented.

But now she wondered: if she was gifted there, then what did that make Frenith the golden-haired heir of Versil, born of the Brotherhood of the Fallen Blood?

She had no answer.

Despite all her words and technique, she knew how this would end with Frenith's cold blade at her neck.And it did.

Still, she accepted defeat with grace. She stood quickly, hiding any sign of frustration in front of Frenith, who, unlike her, wasn't even sweating. Maybe it was the cold night. Or maybe not.

She promised herself she'd beat him one day.Not today.Maybe tomorrow.

For now, it was time to rest.

Ethan was watching from the stands, preparing to step down into the arena. He was still full of energy and would've asked for a duel himself, had the opportunity presented itself.

He thought the stands were empty until a sudden gust of wind pulled him back. He immediately recognized it as concentrated magic. Powerful, but clumsy.

He looked up and saw her. He couldn't mistake that figure: the student known for her oversized hat and sparkling silver dress.

Miraslav, descendant of Azuria, was walking down the stairs confidently, wearing a slight, apologetic smile.

She approached Ethan, stopping just in front of him. With her distinct eastern accent, she softly asked if he had a moment.

She took a step back, clarifying that this wasn't a personal matter it was about the Black Disciplinary Elite.

Ethan raised an eyebrow, clearly tense, and asked why she needed him.She corrected him: she didn't need him, but the Silver Elite needed the Disciplinary Elite.

Just then, Pod appeared at Ethan's side. Ethan stood with him and asked if they could escort her to the Disciplinary Board meeting room.

The short girl smiled politely and agreed, and together they walked.

Within minutes, the meeting was underway. Miraslav presented her proposal not very convincingly, but she came prepared with official documents.

She proposed a study trip to ruins near the capital city of Arentia, involving fourth- and fifth-year students.

Multiple classes from different levels would join, and the plan had already been approved by the Master's Council.

Zev reviewed the documents carefully. They outlined that Miraslav would lead the trip, along with Fedregon, Val, and a small group that included Ethan.

Zev nodded slowly, saying she was right. Such a mission would need the oversight of the Disciplinary Elite, working alongside members of the Silver Elite.

But he raised concerns. With the current unrest and security issues, sending the Disciplinary Elite away might not be wise.

He spoke in a heavy tone:"It's unfortunate... but we may need to stay. There are more urgent matters that might demand our intervention."

Miraslav raised her voice in protest, defending the Elite's role and saying their presence was essential. But she didn't hide her suspicion she believed the Silver Elite were trying to monopolize the mission.

Zev answered firmly, "No."

But Fedregon interrupted:"Why not? We need them now more than ever. The Silver and Disciplinary Elites have always been two sides of the same coin especially in times of crisis."

He repeated his point, and Zev hesitated. The thought of the recent mysterious attacks lingered in his mind.He finally admitted:"Something serious may already be happening within the academy walls... something we must stop before it's too late."

Zev's voice rang out through the chamber confident, solid. But Fedregon stepped forward and, with calm authority, placed a hand on Zev's shoulder.He spoke sincerely:"Just because we don't yet understand the threat, doesn't mean we should ignore it."

He agreed to send the Disciplinary Elite along. He explained that the Silver Elite had always been a pillar of strength, and over the years, he had witnessed their skill firsthand.

Fedregon admitted that both factions had weakened with time. But he hadn't forgotten the rare moments when they worked together and how powerful that unity could be.

He wanted Zev to feel the weight of leadership, and promised to support him on that path.

Zev processed the words slowly. Fedregon's message echoed in his mind. But in the end, he held firm and turned to Miraslav."We'll go," he said.

Miraslav's face lit up. Ethan, too, smiled with relief.

In a burst of joy, Miraslav shot upward and slammed into the ceiling then immediately dropped down, blushing with embarrassment, but still grinning.

She told them the journey would begin in two days. The train would take them south, to the edge of the great republican capital and the forests beyond.

Zev leaned back in his chair and nodded.

In a soldier's tone, he said,"Prepare yourselves, Brothers of Discipline."

Behind him, Val and the others responded in unison, their voices strong and united.