The Feran training grounds were a vast open-air arena, an intentional contrast to the elegant, marble-floored indoor training chambers of the Kael estate.
Under a sky streaked with Natural moonlight and artificial floodlights, the arena spread wide—its perimeter lined with runic fencing to contain mana overflow.
At the side of the field, raised a few steps above the ground, was a stone podium reserved for the Rank 2 noble families—lords and ladies seated with barely concealed anticipation. Their gazes were locked onto the two figures standing at the center of the arena.
Seated higher above them, under a sheltered royal pavilion, were the Rank 1 noble families: the Queens, the Kaels, and the Ferans. Their eyes were focused.
All except for one.
Eden Feran, the youngest son of the Feran household, sat with arms crossed and a deep scowl carved into his youthful face.
He didn't hear the murmurs of the crowd.
He didn't see the duelists on the field.
