The class finally ended.
Zephyr opened his eyes.
His short nap had done nothing to improve his mood — the class had been as dull as expected.
Who even needed theory when raw strength could break through anything?
He scoffed inwardly, stretching slightly as his gaze drifted to the other side of the room.
Alden.
The black-haired boy sat in silence, calm as ever.
Zephyr had already made up his mind.
He stood, ignoring his lackeys' chatter and walked straight toward his target — swift, confident steps echoing against the quieting classroom.
Alden didn't even look at him.
"Alden." His voice was calm. "I want a duel."
No pleasantries. No bravado.
It wasn't a request. It was a challenge.
A moment passed before Alden finally looked up.
Red eyes met gold.
Zephyr couldn't read anything from his face. Just that ever-present confidence… and a faint, knowing smirk.
He hated that.
Zephyr never trusted words. He understood people through fists.
