“You can do better than that, Jyn,” Sylra said, her voice calm but laced with an almost playful challenge.

“Tsk.” Jyn scowled, frustration flickering across his face. He stepped back and planted his feet firmly on the ground, his fists clenched as he began to channel his lightning Essentia. Sparks intensified around him, arcs of electricity snapping and crackling in the air. The atmosphere grew heavy with static, and the hairs on Towan’s arms stood on end.

With a roar, Jyn unleashed his stored energy, sending a massive thunderbolt hurtling toward Sylra. The electric charge tore through the air, illuminating the platform with a brilliant flash.

Sylra didn’t flinch. Instead, a small smile tugged at her lips as she raised her hand. A powerful current of wind erupted from her palm, clashing head-on with the thunderbolt. The collision created a blinding light and a deafening boom that rippled across the hall, silencing the crowd.

As the wind and lightning struggled against each other, the electricity began to waver. Sylra’s wind surged forward, overpowering the thunderbolt and redirecting its residual energy. The weakened current shot toward Jyn, its force diminished but still potent.

Jyn braced himself, crossing his arms to block the blow. Even so, the impact was enough to send him sliding backward, his feet scraping against the platform until he lost balance and tumbled off the edge.

The crowd erupted in applause as Sylra stood at the center of the arena, her composure unshaken. She casually adjusted her silver hair and smoothed her uniform, her demeanor radiating confidence.

“Not bad, Jyn,” Sylra said, glancing at him as he picked himself up off the floor. “You’re getting better. Keep working on it.”

Jyn didn’t respond, his face a mix of frustration and grudging respect.

Towan, watching intently, couldn’t help but be impressed. “(She’s on a completely different level),” he thought, his gaze lingering on Sylra.

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“She’s amazing, isn’t she?” Alira said, nudging Towan with a grin. “Now you see why no one’s been able to take her down.”

Towan nodded slowly, his mind racing. “(I’ll need to reach her level… and surpass it),” he resolved silently.

As Sylra stepped gracefully off the platform, the crowd parted to let her through. Her commanding presence and the air of effortless confidence she carried left an impression on everyone she passed.

“We need to head that way too,” Alira said, nudging Towan lightly.

“You go ahead,” Towan replied, his tone distracted as his eyes lingered on Sylra’s retreating figure. “I need to find Elliot first.”

Alira shrugged. “Suit yourself,” she said before turning and heading to class

Towan’s gaze followed Sylra for a moment longer. Her silver hair swayed with each step, catching the light and giving her an almost ethereal glow. Just as he was about to turn away, Sylra glanced back over her shoulder. Their eyes met for a fleeting second, and then she winked.

Towan froze, his heart skipping a beat. Heat rushed to his face, and he quickly turned away, hoping no one noticed.

“Was that… for me?!” he thought, his mind racing. The image of her playful wink replayed in his head, making his cheeks flush even more.

Shaking his head, he muttered under his breath, “Focus, Towan. Elliot. Find Elliot.” He set off at a brisk pace, trying to push Sylra from his thoughts, but the subtle curve of her smile and the glint in her eyes lingered stubbornly in his mind.

“(What the hell just happened?)” he wondered, his steps quickening as he made his way toward the west wing.

After waking Elliot, Towan went through his morning routine—brushing his teeth, taking a shower, and making sure his uniform was neat. As he waited for Elliot to do the same, his thoughts lingered on the earlier sparring match and the graceful dominance Sylra had displayed.

“So, you’re telling me this Sylra is stronger than us?” Elliot asked as they walked side by side toward class.

Towan hesitated for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “But if I had to fight her… it wouldn’t be easy. She’s sharp, quick, and her wind control is something else.”

Elliot smirked. “Sounds like you’re impressed.”

“Maybe,” Towan replied, glancing away. “But it’s not just about power. It’s how she moves—every step, every dodge—it’s like she’s three steps ahead.”

As they entered the classroom, the lively hum of conversation greeted them. The amphitheater-style room had already begun to fill, students scattered in small groups or chatting animatedly in pairs. Towan’s eyes scanned the room. Near the middle, he spotted Alira sitting with a few of her friends, a little further back from Kael, who appeared absorbed in his notebook. On the opposite side of the room, Sylra sat with her hair down, flowing freely over her shoulders. Next to her sat Jyn, leaning back in his chair with an arm resting casually on the desk.