The heavy doors at the back of the hall creaked open, drawing every eye. A hushed silence fell over the room as the rhythmic sound of boots echoed against the stone floor.

A figure emerged from the shadows, shrouded in a long, hooded cloak of dark gray, the fabric subtly embroidered with swirling patterns that seemed to shift like living shadows under the light. The cloak flowed behind them with an almost ethereal grace as they walked, revealing sturdy combat boots and a faint glint of armor beneath.

“Who’s that?” Elliot whispered, leaning closer to Towan, his voice barely audible over the tension in the room.

“I don’t know,” Towan replied, narrowing his eyes as he tried to get a better look at the figure’s face beneath the hood.

The figure reached the front of the room, their steps deliberate, each one amplifying the weight of their presence. They paused, standing silently before the chalkboard, letting the tension build. Without a word, they raised a hand, slowly pulling back the hood.

Gasps rippled through the hall as the man’s face was revealed—his piercing golden eyes swept over the room, each gaze feeling like it stripped away layers to peer directly into the soul. His silver-streaked hair was tied back neatly, and a faint scar ran diagonally across his cheek, a mark of countless battles. He exuded an aura of calm, controlled power that pressed down on everyone in the room.

“Who… who is that?” Alira murmured, her usual confidence replaced with awe.

The man finally broke the silence, his deep, resonant voice cutting through the room. “Good morning,” he said, his tone commanding attention without effort. “My name is Rheon.”

Towan froze. Elliot’s eyes widened in shock.

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“Rheon?” Towan muttered under his breath, disbelief flickering across his face. “It can’t be… no way.”

Some students exchanged confused glances, but whispers quickly erupted among others who recognized the name.

“Wait… the Rheon? The Silver Sentinel?” one student hissed.

“Impossible! He vanished years ago!” another replied, their voice a mix of excitement and disbelief.

Rheon raised a hand, silencing the growing murmur with a mere gesture. His gaze swept over the room again, lingering for a moment on Towan and Elliot before continuing.

“You’re here to learn, not gossip,” Rheon said, his voice firm but not unkind. “And I’m here to teach you what it means to fight—not just with your Essentia, but with your mind, your heart, and your spirit. If you think strength alone will carry you, leave now.”

No one moved.

“Good.” A small smirk tugged at his lips. “Then let’s begin.”

With a sharp motion of his hand, the air around him seemed to shimmer, and a gust of wind swept through the hall, extinguishing every torch and casting the room into darkness. A heartbeat later, a ring of silver flame ignited around Rheon, illuminating him and the chalkboard behind him.

“Welcome to your first lesson.”

The air in the hall was thick with a tension that bordered on reverence. The name "Rheon" hung in the air like a thundercloud ready to burst. It wasn’t just a name—it was a legend.

Rheon, the Silver Sentinel, had once stood at the pinnacle of Essentia mastery. A warrior of unparalleled skill, he had been a cornerstone of the fabled Essentia Warriors, the team that had defended the world against the encroaching Corruption. Even after the team's mysterious dissolution, Rheon hadn’t stopped. He continued to fight on the frontlines, side by side with other legends like Eryndar, the Azure Blade.

But years ago, Rheon had vanished without a trace. Some said he had fallen in battle; others whispered that he had gone into seclusion to train the next generation in secret. Whatever the reason, no one had seen or heard of him in years.

And now, here he stood, in the flesh, before a room full of stunned students.

Towan’s thoughts raced. “Rheon… Here? Why? What does this mean?”

Elliot’s shock mirrored his brother’s. He leaned in closer and whispered, “You think Master knows about this?”

Towan didn’t answer. His gaze remained fixed on Rheon, his mind replaying the stories he’d grown up hearing about the Silver Sentinel. The tales of battles against impossible odds, of his mastery over multiple Essentia, and his ability to adapt to any foe.