Chapter 8: Five Days Before It Begins
The sky was still tinted violet when Noel stepped outside.
The academy grounds were quiet, half-draped in mist. Mana lamps along the walkways flickered softly, not yet dismissed by the rising sun. The air was cool, crisp, and sharp enough to bite.
Perfect training weather.
He walked with purpose, hands in his coat pockets, passing silent buildings and dormant gardens until he reached the Open Training Grounds.
It was massive—almost like a field meant for drills, duels, and chaos. Practice dummies stood in rows. Several sections were reinforced with protective wards, carved directly into the earth. A few boulders had been dragged to the side for strength training or manipulation tests.
Noel dropped his coat and bag on a nearby bench, rolled up his sleeves, and began.
First, a light jog—two full laps around the perimeter.
Then bodyweight drills: push-ups, core stretches, agility work. Muscle control. Precision. Repetition.
Not the kind of training to impress anyone.
But the kind that would build a foundation no spell could replace.
His breath formed clouds in the morning air. His body moved on instinct. This wasn't glory training. This was survival.