The adrenaline of the arena didn't fade immediately. It lingered in the air, thick and metallic, long after the bisected corpse of the A-rank Chimera was hauled away.
Arthur left the colosseum without looking back, ignoring the terrified, awe-struck stares of the first-years and the frantic scribbling of the Archmages in the VIP boxes. He had made his point. The Vanguard squad was his.
By the time he returned to the S-Class dormitories, the sun had already dipped below the horizon, casting the academy grounds in deep shades of violet and gold.
The dorms were unusually quiet. Most students were either in the infirmary recovering from the day's brutal drills or locked in their rooms, entirely traumatized by the new curriculum.
Arthur walked into his private room, locking the door behind him with a heavy click.
He didn't bother turning on the lights. He simply unbuttoned his blood-speckled uniform collar, dropped onto the edge of his repaired bed, and let out a long, steady breath.
