CHAPTER 330: MEETING ARDIS KYRELLE FOR THE FIRST TIME 2

She didn’t hand him a tablet, a checklist, or a list of expectations. There were no rules to follow, no structure to start with.

She just sat there quietly, as if none of that was necessary. Like if something important was going to happen, it wouldn’t come from instructions. It would come from time.

She sat still, completely calm, her back straight and eyes forward, like she was waiting for something to shift.

Not something she could force—just something that would happen on its own, when the moment was right.

Ethan watched her for a while, but eventually, the silence started to stretch a little too long. It was not awkward yet, but it was close. So he decided to speak first.

"So... are we meditating? Or is this just a test to see how long I can sit still without falling asleep?"

She didn’t look at him. Didn’t even turn her head. Her voice came softly, steady as ever. "Neither."

He raised an eyebrow. "Then what exactly are we doing?"

"You’re adjusting," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Adjusting to what?"

"To me."

Ethan let out a quiet chuckle, not loud or mocking—more of a real, surprised laugh. It wasn’t the answer he expected, but somehow it made sense.

He didn’t argue. Didn’t push back. Instead, he leaned forward a bit, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked her way with interest.

"This campus is weird," he said after a beat. "Not in a bad way. Just different. I was expecting high-tech stuff.

Energy boards, training droids, maybe some fancy sparring simulators. But this... this is just a room. Quiet floor. No distractions. And a tutor who barely talks."

Still, she said nothing. But she didn’t seem bothered by him talking either. She didn’t stop him, didn’t seem annoyed.

If anything, her shoulders relaxed just a little. It was the kind of tiny shift you’d only catch if you were paying attention.

"I don’t mind it, though," Ethan went on. "Honestly, I think I prefer this. Less noise. Less fake praise. I’m not here to be told I’m talented.

I just want to get better. I want to sharpen whatever’s already there."

This time, she finally glanced over at him. Just a brief look, but her eyes met his.

"You don’t talk like a first-year," she said.

He gave a small smile. "I don’t feel like one."

"Why?"

He thought for a moment before answering. "Most students come in waiting for someone to lead them. I’ve always paid more attention to who’s already following me."

That made her look at him again—this time a little longer. Not with surprise, and not exactly with approval either.

Just... curiosity. She was trying to figure out whether he was arrogant or just honest.

"You think highly of yourself."

"Only when I need to."

She didn’t smile, but something in her expression shifted again. The corners of her mouth softened slightly, and her posture—always so controlled—eased just a little more.

It wasn’t obvious. Most people wouldn’t have noticed. But Ethan did.

And for the first time since he walked into the room, she didn’t seem like she was forcing herself to be calm.

She just was.

"I wasn’t supposed to be a tutor," she said, almost like she was thinking aloud.

"Then why are you here?"

"They needed someone different. Someone not tied to the usual mentor routes. Not another official assignment with a list of protocols."

He waited quietly.

She turned her gaze toward the wall across from them, not looking at anything in particular. "You’re not here for more theory.

The university already saw your test scores. They know what you can do on paper. You don’t need more lectures. That’s not what this is about."

Ethan nodded slowly. "So if not theory... what’s the point of this?"

"To see how far you can be pushed," she said. "To take what you already have and stretch it to its edge. Maybe even past that."

He leaned back a little, arms resting casually across his legs. "Alright. What’s the target, then?"

"They want you at early Platinum by the time you graduate."

His brows lifted. "That’s a big jump."

"There are fewer than thirty students who’ve ever managed it."

"And I’m supposed to be number thirty-one?"

She shook her head. "No. You’re supposed to be the first to reach it without any family enhancements.

No bloodline gifts. No rare artifacts were passed down. No sponsor implants. Just you. Nothing external."

Ethan didn’t respond right away. He sat with it for a second, letting it settle in.

"So," he said finally, "I’m the experiment."

"You’re the exception," she corrected, calm but certain.

He looked at her again, studying her expression. She didn’t seem like she was trying to impress him. There was no dramatic tone, no push behind her words. Just honesty.

"And you?" he asked. "What’s your role in all this?"

"I’m the wall," she said. "The one you run into. The person who keeps pace with you until you can’t anymore.

I’ll train you, spar with you, push you forward. When you plateau, I’ll raise the bar."

He raised an eyebrow. "And if I pass you?"

She finally smiled—small, real, and without any performance behind it.

"If that day comes," she said, "I’ll stop pretending I’ve been holding back."

He grinned a little at that. "That almost sounds like a threat."

"It’s not," she said plainly. "It’s a promise."

They fell quiet again after that, but it wasn’t the same kind of silence as earlier. This one felt better. Easier. Not empty—just comfortable. Like they’d both said enough for now.

Ethan looked up toward one of the high windows built into the upper part of the wall. The light had shifted a bit, casting a softer glow across the floor.

He watched the patterns change, then spoke again, voice lower than before.

"It’s weird," he said. "Just yesterday, everything felt loud. Recruiters shouting. Cameras flashing.

That whole situation with the beast riot. It was all chaos. And now I’m here. Sitting in silence. Talking about pace and limits."

"Do you miss the noise?" she asked, her tone softer this time.

He shook his head. "No. I just need a little time to switch gears."

She nodded.