The Great Hall buzzed with excitement. A wave of chatter echoed off the high stone walls as students filled the rows, waiting for the announcement. Leon, Finn, Isla, and Fanny walked in together, weaving through the crowd.
"I was sleeping peacefully…" Finn muttered, rubbing his eyes. "Why drag us here for some boring announcement?"
Leon shrugged. "No idea. But it's probably something about the tournament."
Just then, Magnus-sir stepped onto the stage at the front. He raised a hand to speak—but no one paid attention. The noise in the hall continued, louder than ever.
Without a word, Magnus released a wave of ice-cold aura.
Instantly, the temperature plummeted. Frost slithered across the walls, and a deep chill gripped the air. The students fell silent as the oppressive pressure washed over them. Even Leon and his friends stiffened, stunned by the intensity of Magnus's power.
Then, just as suddenly, the aura vanished.
Magnus adjusted his robe, voice calm. "Now that I have your attention…"
The silence was absolute.
"I want to begin by saying this: Over the last three months, your progress has been exceptional. Better than any batch before you. But now… it's time to face a real challenge. As you know, the inter-academy tournament against the Obsidian Sanctum is approaching."
A ripple of excitement ran through the crowd.
Magnus's gaze sharpened. "What I didn't want to reveal… is that your opponents are two years your seniors."
The hall erupted in gasps and worried murmurs.
"They've had two more years to train?!" someone whispered.
"This can't be fair…"
Magnus raised his hand again. The room stilled.
"I understand this may seem unfair," he said. "But this is how the tournament always works. One year, you face your seniors. The next, you face your juniors. That's how balance is maintained."
He let the words hang in the air before continuing.
"But this is your reality check. Your opponents are, on average, five times stronger than you at your current level."
Leon's heart dropped. "Five times…?" he echoed, stunned.
Isla glanced at Magnus, worry flickering in her eyes. "If even he's warning us, they must be monsters…"
Magnus nodded grimly. "At your current pace, your chances of winning are ten percent."
Silence. Heads lowered. Even the boldest students looked shaken.
Finn clenched his fists. Ten percent? he thought. Then I'll be part of that ten.
Beside him, Fanny nodded. "I don't usually agree with this idiot," she said, jerking her head toward Finn. "But he's right. We've got to show what we're made of."
Leon saw the determination burning in their eyes. He took a deep breath, steadying himself.
Magnus continued. "So, after careful discussion with the faculty, we've created a special training program. It will include three intense sessions. They'll be nothing like your regular classes—ten times more difficult… and dangerous. Injuries are likely."
He paused, letting that sink in.
"Participation is optional. But anyone who signs up must complete all three sessions. Only those who succeed will be eligible to represent our academy in the tournament. The training will last for three months. At the end, we will choose four students."
The room was silent again.
Magnus smiled faintly. "To those four, we will grant a special gift—one tailored to your power type. It will help you grow… and understand your abilities on a deeper level."
Leon's interest sparked. A gift based on our powers?
If I'm selected… maybe I'll finally understand my Purple Blood. This might be my only chance.
He looked at his friends. Finn and Fanny already looked fired up. As for Isla—he expected her to be just as ready.
But when he turned to her, her face was distant. Sad.
Magnus finished. "You can collect the training forms from my office. But be warned—this path is not for the faint of heart."
He stepped down and exited the hall.
The students began to leave in hushed groups.
Leon turned to Isla. "Hey… are you going to sign up for the training?"
She looked away, avoiding his eyes. "I… I don't know."
Leon frowned. "Is something wrong?"
"No… it's nothing," she said, her voice quiet. "There's something I need to deal with. I'll see you later."
Without another word, she walked off, her posture heavy.
Leon watched her go, a knot forming in his chest.
Suddenly, loud voices broke the tension.
"She called me stupid!" Finn shouted.
"Because you are stupid," Fanny snapped.
Leon sighed, rubbing his temples. "Not again…"
He stepped between them. "Can you two not fight for five minutes?"
Then, turning to Fanny, he asked, "Hey… is something going on with Isla?"
Fanny's smirk faded. "Why do you ask?"
"She seemed… different. Distant. And when Magnus mentioned the tournament, her expression changed."
Fanny's brows knit together. She hesitated.
"I think I know why," she said at last.
Leon leaned in, concerned.
"I don't know everything," she began, "but Isla once told me about her family. Her mother was a maid. Her father—the head of the house—had an affair with her. That's how Isla was born."
Leon stayed silent, listening.
"She lost her mom when she was seven," Fanny added softly. "Since then, she's lived with her father, stepmother, and half-brother. They don't accept her. Her father barely acknowledges her."
Leon's chest tightened.
Fanny continued. "In public, she acts strong. But at home… it's different. She tries so hard to make her father proud, to earn a place in that house. But no matter what she does—it's never enough.
"And now… her father and stepmother are going to attend the tournament. Maybe she doesn't want to face them. Maybe she's scared of failing in front of them."
Leon stared at the floor, absorbing every word. The image of Isla—always composed, always reliable—was shattered by the weight she'd hidden for so long.
"Thanks for telling me," he said quietly.
"Don't tell anyone," Fanny warned. "I only told you because I know you actually care. If Finn had asked, I'd have punched him."
"Why do you always need a reason to hit me?" Finn grumbled.
Leon chuckled. "I won't tell. But we need to help her. We can't let her give up."
Fanny nodded. "Let's find her."
They split up. Finn checked the grounds. Fanny searched the library.
Leon went to the terrace.
There, silhouetted against the open sky, he found her.
Isla stood at the edge, staring into the distance. Her hair fluttered in the wind. Her posture was still, but her sadness was visible in the slump of her shoulders.
"How are you holding up?" Leon asked gently.
Isla turned, surprised. "Leon? What are you doing here?"
He didn't answer. He simply walked over and sat beside her.
"Fanny told me," he said quietly. "About your family."
Isla turned away, her voice barely a whisper. "So… now you know."
Leon nodded. "I don't understand one thing. Why do you care so much about a family that doesn't care about you?"
Isla's eyes filled with emotion. "Because… they're still my family."
Leon met her gaze, and in that moment, she knew—he understood.
"When I was five," she said softly, "my mother used to tell me, 'Take care of your family. Make them proud.' Those were her last words."
Leon gently took her hand. She stiffened at first, then let him.
"Your mother sounds kind," he said. "Just like you. But I don't think she wanted you to suffer. I think she wanted you to be strong—and happy."
He smiled at her. "You don't need to prove anything to anyone. Not to your father. Not to your stepmother. You're already strong. Already kind. Already worthy."
He paused, voice quiet. "Join the training. Not for them—for yourself. I know you'll be selected. And when you stand there… your mother, wherever she is… she'll be proud of you."
Isla's chest rose and fell with shaky breaths. Images flashed in her mind—her mother's smile, her father's cold stare, her years of trying, failing, hurting.
Then, something shifted.
"I don't need to impress anyone anymore," she whispered. "I'll train… for me. To protect others. To fight demons. To become stronger."
She turned to Leon, a small but genuine smile on her face.
"Thank you… for reminding me who I really am. I'm ready now. I'll join the training."
Leon beamed.
And for the first time in a long while, Isla smiled back—her heart a little lighter than before.