ShadowBound: The Need For Power-Chapter 624: Last Words Of The Day

The students gradually regrouped in the East Training Hall once every sparring match across the four grand halls had concluded. Fatigue hung heavily over them, visible in the bruises darkening skin, the scorched hems of attires, the faint limps and stiff shoulders. Some bore shallow cuts hastily sealed with temporary myst patches, others carried the dull ache of overextended channels. Yet despite the weariness, they stood tall—some murmuring among friends, others retreating into thoughtful silence—as they waited for Sir Kaelen to deliver the final words of the day.

The hall carried a subdued energy now. No roaring spells. No cracking thunder or roaring flame. Just the low hum of exhausted conversation and the faint echo of boots shifting against polished stone.

After several minutes, Sir Kaelen stepped forward and approached the pulpit set upon the raised platform. His presence alone was enough to draw attention. He stood with his usual composed posture, gaze steady as he looked down at the assembled students.

The chatter faded almost instantly.

All eyes lifted toward him.

"First of all," Kaelen began calmly, his voice carrying effortlessly across the hall, "well done on coming this far and completing the evaluation exams. Each and every one of you demonstrated that you belong to this academy. You showed willingness to push yourselves, to endure discomfort, and to grow stronger."

He paused deliberately, allowing the acknowledgment to settle.

"You displayed individual strength on the first day, teamwork on the second, and today you revealed what you are capable of in direct combat. Compared to what we have witnessed in previous cycles," he continued evenly, "this generation is... promising."

A ripple of relief moved subtly through the crowd. Shoulders eased. A few students exchanged satisfied glances. The weight of the three-day evaluation had pressed heavily upon them, and hearing even measured praise from Sir Kaelen felt like validation hard-earned.

"With that said," Kaelen added, his tone sharpening ever so slightly, "do not grow comfortable with the words you just heard. They may not apply to all of you." His gaze hardened fractionally. "There remains the possibility of demotion for some. Do not allow your expectations to rise prematurely."

The shift in atmosphere was immediate.

The fragile sense of triumph faltered. Relief thinned into uncertainty. Several students stiffened, suddenly replaying their matches in their minds with renewed doubt.

"Now then," Kaelen continued, unmoved by the tension he had reintroduced, "there is one more matter you must be aware of before dismissal. Two days from now, you are all required to report to the Beacon Hall for the graduation ceremony of the third-years."

A few heads lifted slightly at that.

"Attendance is mandatory," he went on. "That is when your ranks will be officially announced. Promotions and demotions alike will be declared during that ceremony."

Murmurs threatened to rise but were quickly stifled.

"Everyone must be present before noon," Kaelen stated evenly. "Failure to arrive on time will result in consequences."

He allowed a brief silence to linger before asking, "Are there any questions?"

The hall remained still.

No hands rose. Only tired expressions and measured breaths met his gaze. The students had endured enough for one day; none wished to prolong it further.

"Very well," Kaelen said after a moment. "Return to your quarters. Rest. You have tomorrow to yourselves. You are dismissed."

With that, he stepped back. Headmaster Thion rose from his seat, assistant headmistress Lucia following alongside him, and together with several other authoritative figures, they departed the stage. Only once their superiors had exited did the instructors follow suit, leaving the students alone in the vast hall.

Gradually, the students began to disperse.

Groups formed naturally, drifting toward the large doors that led out into the academy grounds.

"Now today was a hell of a day, am I right or what?" Dylan declared in his usual animated tone as he walked alongside his friends. Despite the exhaustion lining his face, his energy remained stubbornly intact. "We got to watch Liam and Sheila’s brother go at each other like it was some grand tournament final. That was a show."

He stretched his arms behind his head dramatically. "Then Sheila goes and fights the rank-two third-year. Not gonna lie, I honestly thought you had that win in the bag."

Sheila offered a small, composed smile. "De’Ain is stronger than he looked," she replied calmly. "He outclassed me in more ways than one."

Dylan studied her briefly, sensing something restrained beneath her even tone—perhaps frustration, perhaps something else—but he chose not to pry. He shrugged lightly instead.

"Well," he said with a crooked grin, "whatever you say, princess."

She shot him a mild look but didn’t respond.

"Now let’s not forget about our dear Asher," Dylan continued, pivoting dramatically toward the back of the group where Asher walked a few steps behind, hands buried in his pockets. "Honestly, I’ve never been so happy to see you lose your mind like that today."

"Tch. Don’t start, you damn clown," Asher muttered irritably, though his voice lacked its usual bite.

"Oh, I wouldn’t dare," Dylan replied with exaggerated innocence. "Not after what you did to our dear Chris. That man is going to be nursing his pride for weeks."

A faint snort escaped Max and Charlotte as Asher clicked his tongue but said nothing further, his expression unreadable as they continued walking toward the academy doors.

"Oh... how could I possibly forget about our lovely Ari?" Dylan exclaimed as they stepped out of the hall, the evening sun dipping low and painting the academy grounds in hues of amber and gold. His grin was brighter than before, the fading light catching in his blond hair as though it approved of his theatrics.

"True," Charlotte chimed in smoothly. "You had half the boys in that hall losing their minds today, Riri. Honestly, you even had me completely mesmerized." She slipped closer into Ariana’s personal space, leaning in with exaggerated admiration, her tone playful but not entirely unserious.

Max nodded in agreement, offering Ariana a warm smile. "I always knew you were capable of something incredible. I mean, you’re a primordial. But what you showed today? That was beyond expectations."

Ariana, currently being crowded by Charlotte’s enthusiastic proximity, could only offer a shy smile as she absorbed their praise. A faint flush touched her cheeks, and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, clearly unused to being the center of such direct admiration.

"Thank you," she said softly after a moment. "It really means a lot coming from you all."

"No need to thank us, Ari," Dylan declared cheerfully. "We just speak facts around here." He paused dramatically before puffing out his chest in an overly exaggerated display. "Although, let’s not forget who the real star of the day was."

The others immediately gave him side glances, already anticipating the direction this was heading.

"Just because you shot a few arrows doesn’t make you the hero of the evaluation, mop head," Max replied dryly.

"Uh—excuse me?" Dylan scoffed. "A few arrows? Tell me, is there anyone around here who can shoot like me and make it worth watching? Hm? Tell me, Maxie boy." He spun around and began walking backward, facing them as he gestured dramatically with both hands.

Max gave him a long, unimpressed look before clicking his tongue and looking away.

"Mhm. Exactly. No. One," Dylan emphasized smugly. "So why don’t we all accept reality and give a proper cheer for the day’s true champion?" He closed his eyes and spread his arms slightly, waiting for applause that never came.

Seconds passed.

Nothing.

Dylan slowly opened one eye, then the other, staring at his friends in exaggerated disbelief.

"Wow," he said, placing a hand over his heart in mock devastation. "So this is how you treat your friend? How hard is it to just cheer for your—"

He collided with something solid.

The impact made him stumble slightly before he regained his balance. For a brief moment, he froze.

Then, very slowly, Dylan turned around.

His sheepish grin appeared almost instantly.

Standing there, hands tucked into his pockets, expression as unreadable as ever, was Percy Granger.

"Oh... my prince," Dylan said, his voice shifting into a trembling, overly respectful tone as he took a careful step back. "I did not see you there. I deeply apologize for bumping into your glorious and no doubt incredibly valuable person. Please forgive my unforgivable transgression."

He even dipped his head slightly for emphasis.

Percy did not react immediately. His gaze rested on Dylan for a long, measured second before he finally spoke.

"It’s good to see you haven’t changed much since the last time we saw each other, Wellington."

Dylan lifted his head with dramatic flair. "What can I say?" he replied smoothly. "We fine blonde men tend to remain eternally handsome."

A grunt escaped both Asher and Max at the same time. Charlotte rolled her eyes without restraint, while Ariana quietly stifled a laugh.

Percy stared at Dylan for a moment longer before giving a faint scoff. "I see."

Then his attention shifted.

His gaze moved past Dylan and settled on Sheila.

She had gone still the moment he appeared, her posture rigid, her hands clenched lightly at her sides. She had not looked up at him once.

Percy observed her quietly for a moment before speaking again.

"I need to speak with Sheila," he said evenly. "The rest of you can leave."

He did not break eye contact with his sister.

Sheila tensed further, her thoughts racing despite her outward stillness.

Dylan glanced between the two siblings, sensing the sudden shift in atmosphere. After a brief pause, he shrugged lightly.

"As you wish, good sir," he said, stepping aside. "The princess is all yours."

He carefully moved past Percy, giving him a wide berth, then called out to the others. "You guys coming or what?"

The group hesitated only briefly before following Dylan. Ariana and Charlotte both cast lingering looks over their shoulders, curiosity and concern flickering in their eyes. Percy had never once acknowledged Sheila publicly since her enrollment in the academy. The fact that he was doing so now felt significant.

Gradually, the group disappeared down the path toward the infirmary and dormitory buildings, their voices fading into the distance.

Silence settled between the siblings.

Percy finally stepped forward, walking past Sheila without brushing against her.

"Let’s go for a walk," he said simply.

And he began walking.