Chapter 21: A rank
A tense silence stretched across the training hall as Jordan kept Ronan pinned against the wall, his fists clenched around Ronan's collar. The rest of the squad stood frozen, shifting uncomfortably. They had seen Jordan angry before—but never like this.
They were too far away to hear what was being said, but the sheer intensity of Jordan's gaze made it clear that whatever was happening wasn't just about a simple sparring match.
Ronan remained silent for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a deep sigh, he muttered, "I don't have anything to tell you."
Jordan's jaw tightened. His grip lingered for just a second longer before he finally let go. His voice was low, controlled—but laced with something darker. "Then I don't have anything to teach you."
With that, he turned and walked away, fists clenched, shoulders rigid.
Diana's voice cut through the thick air. "Jordan!"
He ignored her, continuing his way toward the exit. That only pissed her off more. With swift precision, she lunged forward, sweeping his feet out from under him. Jordan hit the ground hard, and before he could react, Diana pinned him down, her forearm pressing against his chest.
"See how easily I just floored you?" she snapped. "That's what happens when you let anger cloud your senses."
Jordan scowled, brushing her off and attempting to get up. But Diana only tightened her grip, holding him down more firmly.
"I saw what happened," she said, eyes locked onto his. "So, what does Ronan have to say?"
Jordan exhaled sharply. "Nothing. And I'm done wasting time on him." His tone was clipped, but the frustration in his eyes was unmistakable. "I'll ask Nathaniel to transfer him to Squad 4. He's surpassed this level... but before that, we need to measure his mana. We need to know exactly where he stands. He might be a high-level Harbinger."