Two weeks had passed since the incident in the monolith.

Cecilia had been discharged from the infirmary the day after their talk, though she'd left behind strict instructions for Noah to rest.

He'd followed those orders, mostly because he hadn't been able to move without pain for nearly a week.

But now, after long days of recovery, he was finally well enough to walk without his body feeling like it was made of shattered glass.

He'd been discharged from the infirmary three days ago, and returning to his dorm room had felt strangely comforting.

The familiar white walls and standard furniture had been the closest thing to normalcy he'd had in what felt like months.

For the first time in a long while, there were no battles for him to fight and no immediate threats. All he had to do was just rest.

But that would be coming to an end today.

Now, he sat in the cafeteria, a tray of food in front of him. The hall was mostly empty, the remaining students scattered across tables.

The holidays had been underway for nearly three weeks, and he was already used to the calm atmosphere of the academy.

It was like living in an estate owned by his family or something. Like those rich kids usually boast of.

The sunlight streamed through the wide arched windows, glinting faintly off the polished tables.

Noah cut into his food, eating slowly, his mind wandering. For once, there was no need to think ahead, and no immediate problem to solve.

That peace lasted all of five minutes.

"Noah Webb?"

He looked up.

An academy worker stood beside his table, dressed in the brown uniform of the courier staff. The woman held out a rectangular package sealed in thick paper.

"You have a delivery," she said politely. "Came in from the capital this morning."

Noah frowned slightly. "From the capital?"

"Yes, sir."

He reached out, taking the package. It was light. Paper, most likely. "Thank you."

The worker nodded and walked away.

Noah set his fork down and turned the package in his hands. His name was written neatly across the front in beautiful cursive handwriting.

The seal at the edge caught his attention. It was the royal crest of Camelot.

He exhaled slowly. "So, it's finally here."

He tore the package open carefully.

Inside was a pristine white envelope, gilded at the edges. The wax seal was gold, pressed with the sigil of the royal family.

Noah broke the seal and unfolded the letter. The elegant handwriting inside was instantly recognizable. It was the same as on the envelope.

By royal invitation, you are cordially requested to attend the Winter Ball, to be held in honor of the coming year, at the Royal Palace of Camelot.

The letter went on to specify the date, three days from now, and the expected attire.

Noah stared at it for a moment, then chuckled under his breath. "So, she actually kept her word."

He remembered Princess Ines's words from weeks ago, back in the cafeteria. She'd said she'd send him an invite, and here it was.

And here it was.

He tapped the letter against the table once before folding it neatly and slipping it into his spatial ring.

The ball would no doubt be filled with the nobles and mages of the upper houses, people he had no desire to see.

But he might as well take the opportunity to attend and see the faces of the people who made the move on who and what should happen in Camelot.

The movers and shakers to be exact.

Noah finished the rest of his meal in silence, his thoughts distant.

He rose, straightened his tunic, and took one last glance at the window where snowflakes had begun to drift lazily down from the gray sky outside.

Then, without another word, he turned and left the cafeteria.

He cut across academy grounds, heading straight for the training complex.

When he entered, the worker seated at the reception desk looked up, recognition flickering in his eyes. He gave him a polite nod as he passed.

"Good morning, Webb," he said, smiling faintly.

"Morning," Noah replied, giving him a small nod before continuing down the hall.

He walked until he reached the door marked Training Hall 16. Their usual training hall.

He pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Professor Cecilia was already there.

She stood at the far end of the room, dressed in her usual battle leathers, her brown hair tied neatly into a ponytail.

Her eyes flicked up the moment Noah entered, and a small smile formed on her lips.

"You're right on time," she said. "Good."

"Professor," Noah greeted, closing the door behind him.

"Recovered enough to continue training?" she asked, crossing her arms lightly.

"Recovered enough," Noah replied, his voice filled with amusement. "But nothing too taxing, I hope."

Cecilia chuckled at his joke. "Don't worry, this won't be about brute force or mana output. Today's lesson is a bit different."

He raised an eyebrow slightly.

"It's time," she said, "for you to perfect the first part of your fighting style, the Executioner's Path."

Noah's eyes glinted faintly with recognition.

"You remember the first part?" she asked.

"How can I forget?" Noah chuckled. "The first part is Entry."

"Yes," she nodded. "It means finding the fastest, most efficient route to your opponent. No wasted motion. No hesitation. It's the foundation of every strike you'll ever deliver."

Noah nodded.

"Now," Cecilia said, her voice taking on a tone of instruction, "since I know more about your abilities now, this training will be a bit… specialized."

She turned slightly, gesturing to her right shoulder where a small red patch of cloth had been fastened to her armor.

"You have three tools to reach me," she explained. "The first and weakest, your natural speed."

Noah smirked faintly. "Weakest, huh?"

Her lips twitched upward. "Relatively speaking. You're fast, Noah, but against higher-ranked mages, raw speed alone won't close the gap. You'll need to rely on the other two."

He nodded.

"The second," she continued, "is Flash Step. Faster, cheaper in terms of mana compared to your third option, and highly adaptable once mastered."

"And the third, your teleportation. Powerful, but expensive. Use it wrong, and you'll burn through your mana before a battle even truly begins."

"Understood," Noah said.

Cecilia stepped back, the air around her shimmering faintly as she activated a low-tier flame barrier, not for offense, but to mark her position.

"I've set up a simple test for you," she said. "Your goal is straightforward."

"Use any of your movement techniques, whether speed, Flash Step, or teleportation, to close the distance and touch the red patch on my shoulder."

Noah's gaze flicked to the glowing mark. "That's all?"

"That's all," Cecilia confirmed, her tone deceptively light. "Do that, and you'll have successfully mastered the Entry phase of the Executioner's Path."

Noah chuckled quietly. "Sounds easy enough."

Cecilia's smirk returned. "Then we'll see just how easy it really is."

She took a step back, her mana flaring faintly, the temperature of the room rising just a little.

"Be warned," she added. "I won't be standing still."

"Wouldn't expect you to," Noah replied, lowering his stance slightly.

For a moment, the room was silent.

Cecilia raised a hand. "Ready?"

Noah nodded once, his focus narrowing to the glowing red patch on her shoulder.

"Then…" she said, her eyes locking onto his.

Her lips curled into a faint, knowing smile.

"Start!"

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