"Yo! Ednar!" A young man dressed in a thick hooded sweater yelled out, catching sight of his friend who had just stepped down from a mana-powered carriage.
"Brent? Heh, you actually came early for once in your entire life," Ednar laughed, watching his friend approach through the crowd.
"With all the pressure back home, I had to," Brent replied with an exhausted look plastered across his face.
"Let me guess… the festival?"
"What else? Ever since that day those cheats fought, Father won't let me rest—not even a wink of sleep. I literally trained the entire month straight," Ednar complained, his teeth gritted in frustration.
"You're not alone, brother. Mine was hell too. I finally came to realize my instructor had been going easy on me all this time," Brent said, ruffling his own head with a small, weary smile.
"Sure."
