CHAPTER 181: NO MERCY

{Elira}

~**^**~

I swallowed hard, feeling my faint hope crumble into the floor beneath me.

Lennon whistled low from the side as he watched with both hands on his waist. "Ouch. No mercy today."

Zenon did not glance at him. His eyes remained fixed on me. "Ready stance."

My pulse raced, but I obeyed. I bent my knees, my weight balanced, and my arms lifted. I could already feel the burn building in my muscles.

He circled me slowly, silent, the way a predator might circle before striking. Every movement of his was measured, efficient and deliberate.

I barely had time to nod before he moved quickly.

His foot swept low, testing my balance. I stumbled back, recovering just in time to block his next strike. The force rattled through my bones.

"Again," he said, not even out of breath.

He came at me harder this time. I blocked, missed, pivoted—too slow, his hand clipped my shoulder, and I hit the mat hard enough for air to rush out of my lungs.

The ceiling blurred for a heartbeat before his voice brought me back.

"Up."

I pushed to my feet, breathing fast, my heart pounding. Sweat clung to my hairline.

Every time I thought I had matched his rhythm, he shifted, faster, sharper. I blocked two hits and missed the third one. My palm burned from impact.

"Your stance is slipping," he said coolly. "You are thinking too much."

"I’m trying not to die," I muttered before I could stop myself.

Lennon’s laugh barked out, loud and delighted. "There’s that fire again."

Zenon ignored him completely. "Then stop trying and just move."

Then, he lunged again. I sidestepped, ducked, and this time my arm shot out on reflex. My knuckles barely brushed his chest.

He halted as the air between us went still.

For one heartbeat, I thought he might actually smile, but instead, he nodded once. "Better. Now, again."

I let out a shaky breath, sweat slicking the back of my neck. He is insane.

And we did it again and again, until my arms trembled and my lungs burned, until my body ached but refused to quit.

By the time Zenon finally stopped, I was drenched in sweat, my pulse drumming in my ears. My arms felt like lead, my legs barely steady beneath me.

He stood a few paces away, barely winded and watched me with an unreadable gaze.

Not a single strand of his dark hair was out of place. The contrast between us made something inside me twist.

I bent forward and braced my hands on my knees as I tried to catch my breath.

Then, after a beat, his voice cut through the quiet.

"Tell me, Elira," he said evenly, "is this how you plan to fight on the next round of elimination?"

My head snapped up. "What?"

He took a slow step forward, his tone still calm but sharper now, edged with challenge. "If this is the extent of your moves, you will be flat on your back before the first minute passes."

Heat flared in my chest, half from embarrassment and half from frustration. "I’m trying—"

"Trying won’t save you," he interrupted, his voice low but firm. "You think endurance will carry you through? Only precision and focus will."

His gaze locked onto mine, intense enough to pin me where I stood. "What if your name is called today?"

My breath caught. "Today?"

He didn’t blink. "Would you still be standing after this?"

The question sank into me like a stone. For a heartbeat, I couldn’t answer. The truth pressed against my chest, that I didn’t know.

Zenon held my gaze another second, then exhaled quietly through his nose. "Then you still have work to do."

He turned away, walking toward the rack to put away one of the staff that had fallen over during training. His movements were as controlled as ever, but his voice, when it came again, was final.

"Training’s over for today. Join the others in the auditorium. The next round begins soon."

I stared at his back, still catching my breath, trying to decide whether to feel grateful or insulted.

"Zenon," I started, my voice small, but he didn’t turn.

"Go," he said simply.

Rennon offered me a quiet, reassuring nod from the side, his expression gentle where Zenon’s was hard.

Lennon, however, grinned like this was all entertainment. "You heard him, sweetheart. Time to see if you get lucky again."

I shot him a glare that made him laugh harder, then grabbed my backpack from the floor. My whole body ached, but I forced my shoulders back and lifted my chin.

---

By the time I left the small training hall, the air outside felt cooler, almost merciful on my heated skin.

My limbs still trembled faintly from Zenon’s brutal review session, but I pushed through, heading toward the central building where the auditorium was.

Halfway there, I spotted my friends waiting near the stairs. Juniper was the first to see me. She waved, grinning from ear to ear.

"Elira! Over here!"

Nari and Cambria flanked her, each holding a bottle of fruit juice. Tamryn stood behind them, looking like she had sprinted out of her last class.

"You survived training!" Nari said the moment I reached them, her tone half-amazed and half-teasing.

"Barely," I muttered, forcing a smile.

Juniper’s eyes dropped to my hands, and her expression changed. "Wait—you took the bandages off?"

I lifted my arm, flexing it lightly. "Apparently, I didn’t have much of a choice."

Nari’s jaw fell open. "Didn’t the nurse say no strenuous activity until she cleared you?"

"Yeah, she did," I sighed. "But I guess Professor Zenon decided to clear me himself."

That earned a collective groan from everyone.

Cambria pinched the bridge of her nose. "Only him. The man probably thinks pain builds character."

Juniper crossed her arms, still frowning in concern. "Even if he thinks that, we don’t. Come on, let’s get you to the clinic before the next round starts. I want to be sure you are not secretly falling apart somewhere inside."

"I’m fine, really—"

"No arguing," she cut in firmly. "You can thank us later."

So, I followed them.