The windowless training chamber lay deep within the Academy's combat wing, one of several identical rooms assigned to each standard class.
Students scattered throughout the space, their conversations creating a chaotic buzz of nervous energy.
Instructor Caldwen stepped forward.
"Attention!" His voice cut through the chatter like a blade.
The room fell quiet instantly. Students turned toward him, straightening unconsciously.
"At ease," he commanded, then began pacing slowly before them.
"Today we shall establish your tournament teams." His footsteps echoed against the stone floor as he walked. "It is my obligation to explain the regulations."
He paused in his pacing, hands clasped behind his back. "The Academy recognizes two competition categories. Objective-based challenges, designed for non-combatants - the stargazers, potion mixers, and their ilk."
His tone made clear what he thought of such pursuits. He resumed walking, his gaze sweeping across his students.
"We are fighters. Mages. We trained for combat. And we must face opposition head-on." He paused for emphasis. "Therefore, all students in this class shall participate in combat competition."
He stopped again, allowing the weight of his words to settle.
"Now." The pause stretched for several heartbeats. "I could easily arrange team compositions for this class. Through my experience, however, I believe I have prepared you sufficiently to recognize strategic thinking on your own."
Caldwen's expression grew more serious as he continued his measured pace. "It is important that you select the right individuals yourselves. These partnerships will be solidified throughout the tournament. Permanent, unless certain unexpected events occur."
He stopped directly in front of the class. "Begin."
The moment permission was given, students began moving around the training hall. But instead of the expected rush of activity, Celia noticed something odd. Students were glancing around cautiously, as if waiting for cues.
Then Lysithea stood. Unlike the other students who moved around uncertainly, she remained perfectly still, a black folding fan swaying slightly from her wrist. Immediately, Vera appeared at her side.
"Lady Fairwind," she addressed respectfully. "Like we talked about yesterday?"
"Of course. Air and fire complement each other beautifully." Lysithea's voice carried just enough to be overheard. "Tomlin, would you care to complete our arrangement?"
Tomlin practically stumbled over himself to join them. "Really? Yeah, absolutely."
As if a dam had burst, other students began moving. But Celia noticed they were forming pairs first, leaving the third positions open.
She spotted Merin near the weapon racks - the girl she'd shared lunch with just two days ago, the one who'd complained about struggling to find good teammates. Surely she would remember their conversation.
"Merin," Celia approached with relief. "Are you still interested in teaming up like we discussed?"
Merin looked up from examining a practice sword, her face flushing slightly. "Oh, Celia... actually, I've been thinking about it more, and I'm not sure our fighting styles would mesh well."
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GameDev Reincarnated into His Own Creation
FantasyWhen renowned game developer Giri meets his untimely end, he awakens as twelve-year-old Vel in the magical realm of Aeonalus-his own creation. Five hundred years have passed since he crafted the world, and Vel finds himself in the village of Oakhave...
