The arena lights dimmed one by one as the day ended. The echoes of battle still lingered faintly in the air — like the energy didn't want to leave.
Most students had gone back to their dorms or the cafeteria. Jiwoo stayed behind for a while longer, sitting on the edge of the stands, watching the empty stage where his sister had just fought.
Minjae yawned beside him. "Man, that match almost gave me a heart attack. Who even moves that fast with a sword?"
"Someone who trains too much," Jiwoo said.
Rina stretched her arms. "Pretty sure the Han siblings are allergic to rest."
Jiwoo smiled faintly. "Maybe."
They chatted a little longer before heading out, the night breeze cool against their faces. Jiwoo stopped halfway down the path, glancing up at the academy towers — lights flickering through the windows, voices faint in the distance.
He exhaled quietly, then turned toward the dorms.
***
Meanwhile, in the faculty lounge, most of the instructors had already left. Only one light remained on — in Headmaster Kain's office.
Stacks of reports lined his desk, but his attention wasn't on them.
A soft ringtone buzzed from the flat screen on the wall. The ID flashing across it read: Han Seojin – Private Channel.
He tapped the screen, and two familiar faces appeared.
Kain leaned back in his chair, a smile tugging at his lips. "It has. You still sound like you haven't aged a day, Mirae."
The image shimmered — a woman in her forties with calm eyes and long dark hair appeared in the screen. Beside her, a man came into view — broad-shouldered, serious-looking, with a faint scar over his chin.
"Don't flatter her too much," the man said dryly. "She'll start thinking she's still in her twenties."
"Seojin," Kain greeted with a laugh. "You still have the same charming personality."
"I call it honesty."
"Sure you do."
The three shared a brief laugh — the kind that comes from years of history.
Then Kain straightened slightly. "So. You're not calling just to hear my voice, are you?"
Haneul smiled. "You know us well enough. We wanted to ask about the kids."
"Don't drag me into your excuses," Mirae teased, nudging him lightly. "You were the one asking if Jiwoo's still slacking."
Kain nodded. "They're both doing fine — better than fine. Actually, Eclipse is holding the selection for the first International Academy Tournament.""
"Oh," Mirae said, eyes lighting up. "They actually implemented it this year?"
"Yeah," Kain said, a touch of pride in his voice. "And your children are right in the middle of it."
Seojin smirked. "Of course they are. If there's a challenge, they'll find it."
Kain leaned back, crossing his arms. "They didn't just find it, Seojin. They're shaping it. Jiwoo and Jiwon are both in the top six."
That earned a brief silence — then Mirae smiled warmly. "Top six already? That's quick progress."
"She's unstoppable," Kain said. "Jiwon's precision is absurd — her control, her stance, even her timing. It's like she was born for the blade."
Seojin chuckled. "She gets that from her mother."
Mirae raised an eyebrow. "Don't flatter me. You're the one who used to make her train till sunset."
"Yeah," Seojin muttered. "Because you let her win too often."
Kain chuckled softly. "Regardless, she's lived up to every expectation. The students call her the Dancing Blade now. Even the instructors have started saying it again."
Mirae smiled, pride flickering in her eyes. "She used to hate that name. Said it sounded too corny."
"Now," Kain said, "it's the name of the academy's top swordswoman."
Seojin nodded slowly. "And Jiwoo?"
Kain's smile softened. "He's different. Quiet. Thoughtful. But focused — sharper than when he enrolled. He's not chasing power for attention. He's chasing it because he doesn't want to fall behind."
Mirae leaned in a little. "That's Seojin's stubbornness."
Kain tilted his head. "Do you two still remember Baek?"
Seojin blinked. "Baek Gunho? Of course. The four of us trained together before the monarch crisis — me, you, Soomin, and that maniac. He still alive?"
"Very," Kain said with a grin. "Still yelling at students like they're soldiers."
"That tracks," Mirae said, chuckling.
"Well," Kain continued, "a few weeks ago, he asked Jiwoo to spar."
Seojin laughed. "He did what? He's still picking fights with kids?"
"Oh, this one wasn't random," Kain said. "He saw Jiwoo's potential while training and wanted to test it for himself."
"And?" Mirae asked, suddenly curious.
Kain's eyes gleamed faintly. "Jiwoo held out longer than what he's expected. Baek pushed him to the edge — no holding back. But right when Jiwoo was about to lose, something... changed."
Seojin frowned. "Changed?"
"His mana," Kain said slowly. "It shifted. Not in volume — in density. Like it wasn't his at all."
Mirae's brows drew together. "You saw it?"
Kain headshake. "I didn't. But the pressure in the room spiked for just a second. Baek told me the story where Baek tried to parry but Jiwoo's strike grazed his face."
Seojin blinked. "Wait, Jiwoo managed to hit Baek?"
"Left a scratch right here." Kain gestured across his cheek. "Baek said he barely saw it coming."
For a moment, the call went silent.
Then Seojin leaned back, exhaling through his nose. "So it's starting again."
Mirae's voice lowered. "You think it's the same… force?"
Kain met her gaze through the screen. "It's not identical, but the signature's close. The same distortion as twenty years ago. The monarch's residue."
Mirae's tone softened. "He's not ready for that yet."
"He doesn't need to be," Kain said. "He's not aware of it — and that's good. The moment he tries to understand it, it might wake faster."
Seojin's hand curled on his knee. "We sealed that energy for a reason."
"I know," Kain said quietly. "But remnants like that... they don't fade. They adapt. And Jiwoo's strength is growing faster than his control."
Mirae frowned. "What are you planning to do?"
"Nothing yet," Kain said. "He's disciplined. Grounded. I'll keep an eye on him — and I'll keep Baek from provoking him again."
"Good," Seojin said, though his voice was half amusement. "If Baek gets another scar, he'll start charging tuition by injury."
Kain smirked. "Probably already does."
The three laughed softly, the sound easing the tension.
Then Mirae asked, "And the tournament? How's the academy holding up?"
"Better than expected," Kain said. "This is the first time Eclipse felt alive again. The halls aren't quiet anymore — students actually care. It's been years since I've seen that."
"That's good," Mirae said. "Eclipse deserves to shine again."
Kain leaned back, his tone lowering. "You know… if the two of you hadn't retired, the Association would've dragged you into this too."
Seojin smirked. "Let the new generation fight their battles. We've had enough of ours."
Mirae nodded in agreement — but there was something wistful in her smile. "Still… it would've been nice to see them on that stage."
Kain smiled faintly. "You'll get your chance. The international broadcast starts next month. Just promise not to embarrass me in the comments section."
"Can't promise that," Mirae said with a laugh.
Then Seojin's tone shifted slightly, firm but curious. "Elias. How bad is it?"
Kain looked at him. "The distortions?"
Seojin nodded.
Kain sighed. "They've started flickering again. Small, harmless so far — but the readings are identical to twenty years ago. The Guilds are keeping quiet, but… it's only a matter of time."
Mirae's smile faded. "So it begins again."
"Maybe," Kain said. "Or maybe it's just a ripple — one last echo. Either way, if it does happen again… I think your son might be the key."
Seojin's gaze darkened slightly. "Let's hope he never has to be."
Kain smiled faintly, breaking the heavy air. "You said the same thing about yourself once."
Seojin chuckled under his breath. "And I was right. I hated being right."
Kain raised his coffee cup. "Then let's hope history doesn't repeat itself."
Mirae nodded. "Just… watch over them, Elias. Especially Jiwoo."
"I already am," Kain said. "He's like his father — too proud to ask for help, too stubborn to stop. But he's good, Mirae. He's a good kid."
The call fell quiet for a few seconds. Then Seojin smiled faintly. "Tell Baek I still owe him a spar. Maybe next time, Jiwoo can stand in for me."
"Oh, I'd pay to see that," Kain said, laughing. "He'd never live it down."
Mirae shook her head, smiling. "Take care, Elias."
"Always, both of you too." Kain said.
The call ended with a soft beep. The screen went black.
Kain leaned back, eyes wandering toward the darkened training field outside his window.The night air was still. The lamps flickered faintly.
Under his breath, he murmured, "The world's moving again… let's see if your children can move with it."
In his dorm, Jiwoo finally drifted into sleep. The faint shimmer of mana pulsed under his skin — invisible, quiet, but restless. It hummed once, then faded.
For now.