Chapter 141: We Were Never Free
(A Few Days Earlier)
The training grounds lay in ruins—shattered dummies, scorch marks from alchemical explosions, and the faint, lingering scent of venom in the air.
Aman wiped the sweat from his forehead, his breathing finally steadying after hours of brutal poison resistance drills. His muscles ached, his veins still burning faintly from the toxins he'd forced his body to endure. But it was all worth it.
Across from him, Zephyr sat on a broken pillar, his silver hair damp with exertion, one hand scribbling notes into a small journal. His saber rested against his thigh, its blade still faintly glowing from the last spar.
Fighting while being poisoned is really exhausting...
Aman exhaled, then spoke.
"Hey. Can I ask you something?"
Zephyr's pen paused. He didn't look up, but his silence was permission enough.
Aman began explaining—about the assassin organization still hunting him, the whispers of a coming monster horde, the possibility of an attack on both the town and the academy. Then, he laid out his plan in precise detail, including the contingencies he'd arranged with Dono.
When he finished, he waited.
Zephyr didn't react immediately. His gaze remained fixed on some distant point, as if weighing more than just Aman's words. The wind stirred the pages of his journal, the only sound between them for a long moment.
Finally, he glanced up.