The room didn't exhale until Elric walked to the far wall and pulled down a long black cloth, revealing a mounted diagram underneath—an arcane combat map segmented into four rings, each one labeled not with magic tiers, but with sword stances.
"Sit," he said without turning.
Chairs scraped the floor. The nobles moved slower now. No whispering. No smirking.
Leon found his spot back near the far right wall, across from Fena. He didn't look for Rellan. He didn't need to.
Elric tapped the outer ring of the diagram. "Foundation. Balance. Tempo. All of you—regardless of crest, name, or inheritance—fail at this."
He turned toward the class again.
"Three of you hold E-rank or higher. Eight are unranked. One—" he paused, letting the room tighten—"won a Crest Duel two days ago, and some of you seem to think that makes him special."
Leon didn't flinch.
