CHAPTER 368: YOUR TURN

Their breathing had deepened into a rhythm in which each inhale was a drag through the chest and each exhale carried a small edge of heat, but neither twin slowed.

Their pace remained sharp, their focus locked. Thalynae’s voice came only when needed—never a constant stream, never smothering their movement.

A short, precise reminder to hold a line. A low word to shift a step. A light touch to change the angle of a wrist.

There was no doubt in her tone, no sense she believed they would fail. She simply asked for more as though "more" was the natural baseline.

That expectation alone left no room for stopping.

When she finally let them take a break, it was not with an indulgent word, but a small motion of her hand, almost like a conductor allowing a rest in the music.

They walked to the bench at the courtyard’s edge, their steps measured but carrying the faint drag of exertion.

Water flasks came into their hands, the cool metal hissing faintly under the press of their palms.

The shade here felt deeper, the air thicker, and the rustle of the Life Tree’s high branches above was more like a low murmur now than the airy whispers they’d heard at the start.

Thalynae crossed the space toward them, her tread as even as when they began, the hem of her gown whispering over stone.

Her expression had not shifted—she was calm and composed, her eyes focused enough to cut through the haze of effort clinging to her students.

"The virtual beasts in the midterm will not simply attack you," she said, voice carrying without needing to rise.

"They will test your bond. If you cannot adapt together, they will tear you apart alone."

The heavier twin’s mouth curved in a small, knowing smirk as she looked at her sister.

The lighter one’s eyes narrowed slightly in return, a spark there—half competitive, half a silent challenge.

Words weren’t necessary; the message passed between them in a glance. Neither would be the one to lag.

Thalynae noticed the exchange but left it unspoken. She turned back toward the center of the courtyard, the long sweep of her gown trailing behind like a ribbon of water, her pace unbroken.

She waited. The silence stretched into something steady and full until the twins set their flasks aside and moved to rejoin her.

Not far from where they stood, the ground rose into the massive roots of the Life Tree, thick as columns and twisted in shapes older than any wall in the academy.

In the deep curve where two of those roots met, a shadowed hollow opened onto the courtyard’s edge.

From within it, another figure stepped forward—Nyssara. She had been there for some time, standing still enough that the shifting dapple of leaves above had made her part of the scene rather than apart from it.

Her eyes had followed every exchange, her presence quiet but intent.

Only when Thalynae’s gaze turned toward her did she move into the open.

The motion was unhurried and deliberate, each step uncoiling with the balance of someone used to long hours of standing and sudden bursts of speed.

"Your turn," Thalynae said, her tone even, as though the shift from one pair of students to another was nothing more than the natural pulse of the day.

Nyssara walked toward the shaded arc of the outer roots. The air here felt different, layered and dense with the Life Tree’s energy—cool against the skin but alive, carrying the kind of steady power that could be drawn into bone and muscle if you knew how to take it.

Her spear rested easily in her hands, the shaft a dark, polished metal that caught only a dull glint in the filtered light.

It seemed less like it reflected the world around it and more like it swallowed light whole.

"Begin," Thalynae said, stepping to the side with the stillness of a hawk waiting to strike.

Nyssara moved without hesitation. Her spear cut a clean, sweeping arc that brought a ripple of shadow trailing in its wake.

But this was no loose, formless shade—the lines were crisp, the shape bending along the exact curve of her swing.

She drove forward in a thrust that ended with a controlled spin, her feet setting down with the deliberate placement of a dancer marking beats on a stage.

Thalynae watched for several strikes before stepping closer. Her hand came to rest lightly on Nyssara’s shoulder, slowing her mid-motion, then slid down toward the lower haft of the spear.

"Your reach is fine," she said, eyes flicking from the weapon’s tip to Nyssara’s stance. "But you’re letting the shadow drag too far behind the point.

Tighten it. The power isn’t in how much space it fills—it’s in how sharp the edge is when it lands."

Nyssara gave a short nod, reset her stance, and struck again. This time, the shadow came fast and tight, a blade that appeared instantly and vanished just as quickly.

The cut sang sharper through the air.

"Better," Thalynae said. "Keep it in bursts, not waves. Waves can be read. A burst forces them to react, and it’s already struck by the time they move."

The cycle repeated. Thalynae corrected with the smallest touches—rotating a grip by a finger’s width, angling a foot just enough to change the line of attack.

Sometimes she tilted Nyssara’s chin to align her sight with where the strike should land.

Between sequences, her words carried no softness but held the weight of truth. "Your midterm will be the first place the world measures you.

The beasts will come in groups. Some will move with instincts older than your own bloodline. Your instincts must cut sharper still."

Nyssara’s grip on her spear tightened—not out of resistance, but as though she were locking the weight of those words into her hands.

She didn’t ask for clarification or answer with promises. She simply nodded once and set her feet again.

Thalynae began calling changes mid-strike—switching low sweeps into high cuts, reversing direction without warning.

Nyssara adapted faster with each shift, her movements adjusting before thought could catch up. When she hesitated, she reset without complaint and began again.

The shade under the roots was cooler than the courtyard’s open space, but the pulse of energy there was stronger.