The air in the Headmaster's office was thick enough to choke a lesser man. Despite the catastrophic revelations about the Moon God's bloodline and the Saintess's vision, the negotiation had ground to a stubborn halt.

"Headmaster, you must see reason," Legolas urged, his voice tight with controlled desperation.

"The World Tree Palace is not merely a fortress; it is a sanctuary. Our masters have studied the lunar arts for millennia. We can provide Elena Moonshadow with training that your academy—focused on general combat and human-centric magic—simply cannot replicate."

Hamdal slammed his fist onto the arm of his chair, the wood groaning under his strength. "And that is exactly why she must stay! You speak of sanctuaries and specialized training as if you're raising a prize flower. Protection breeds weakness, Legolas. If she is truly the center of this coming storm, she cannot be a bird in a gilded cage."

"This is not about pride, Hamdal! It is about the survival of our species!" Legolas countered, rising slightly from his seat.

"It is about her being able to stand on her own two feet!" Hamdal bellowed back.

"The Academy is a forge. Here, she faces reality. Here, she learns to fight alongside others. If she leaves now, she will never become the pillar the world clearly needs her to be."

Armin, watching the two titans clash, whistled low. "He's got a point, Prime Minister. A sword that's never been tempered in the heat of a real fire snaps at the first sign of a real duel."

Legolas turned his sharp gaze toward Armin, then back to Hamdal. "The Elves will train her. We will push her. But she will do so behind the strongest wards in existence."

"Wards can be broken," Hamdal said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous rumble. "Character cannot. She stays."

The two men glared at each other, the silence between them vibrating with the clashing of their respective wills.

The Shadow Guards shifted behind Legolas, their hands twitching near their weapons, while Hamdal's golden aura flickered faintly around his shoulders.

Just as the tension reached a breaking point, a heavy, rhythmic knock sounded at the door.

"Come in!" Hamdal barked, grateful for the interruption but his tone still jagged with irritation.

The heavy oak doors creaked open, and Thorgar stepped inside. His face was grim, his armor still bearing the scuffs and dents from his encounter with Riven.

He stopped short, noticing the royal delegation, and offered a quick, respectful nod before addressing Hamdal.

Thorgar stood at attention, his massive shoulders tense as he felt the weight of the high-level discussion he had just interrupted.

"Headmaster," Thorgar began, his voice slightly hesitant.

"I have a request from the students. Zenon, the first-year, is preparing to return to his family estate. The time for his clan's Bloodline Awakening Contest has arrived, and he must be present."

Hamdal waved a dismissive hand, still irritated from his argument with Legolas. "That is standard procedure for the Great Houses, Thorgar. Why are you hesitating? Spit it out."

Thorgar cleared his throat, bracing himself. "It's not just Zenon. Grey, Blaze, Aeron, and Lenore are asking for permission to accompany him. They claim they wish to use the journey to train and grow stronger. Furthermore..." Thorgar paused, glancing at the Sword Saint sitting on the sofa.

"They intend to travel toward Grimhold. Grey has produced a formal letter of recommendation from Grand Elder Ignis himself."

A heavy silence smothered the room. Legolas looked puzzled, but Armin's eyebrows shot up in genuine interest.

Thorgar stood perfectly still, waiting for the explosion. According to the strict bylaws of the Veridian Academy, first-year students were forbidden from leaving the grounds for any reason other than family emergencies.

Suggesting a group excursion to a place as dangerous as Grimhold—a region known for its harsh terrain and ancient, restless spirits—was practically heresy.

Thorgar squeezed his eyes shut, expecting Hamdal's golden aura to flare and a roar of "Absolutely not!" to shake the walls.

Instead, a sharp, boisterous sound cut through the tension.

"HAHAHAHAHA!"

Hamdal was leaning back in his chair, laughing with such raw, unbridled intensity that his broad shoulders shook.

The sound was so unexpected that even the Shadow Guards behind Legolas shifted in surprise.

"Headmaster?" Thorgar asked, utterly confused, his eyes snapping open.

"Oh, the timing!" Hamdal gasped, wiping a tear of mirth from his eye.

He looked over at Legolas, whose face was a mask of bewilderment. "You see, Prime Minister? I told you this academy was a forge!"

Hamdal slammed his desk one more time, but this time it was with a grin of pure savage delight.

"They want to go to Grimhold? Under Ignis's recommendation? Those brats have more fire in them than a dragon's belly!"

"Wait a minute," Armin interrupted, leaning forward from the sofa, his eyes sharp. "This 'Grey' brat... Who's he?."

Hamdal leaned back, his laughter subsiding into a grin of pride.

He spent the next few minutes recounting Grey's feats: from his unconventional entry into the academy to his tactical genius during the recent beast incursion, and finally, his survival against odds that should have claimed the life of any first-year. He described a student who didn't just follow the rules of combat, but rewrote them on the fly.

Armin listened intently, but as Hamdal finished, the Sword Saint clicked his tongue in a sharp sound of disappointment.

"Tch! What a waste," Armin lamented, shaking his head. "If only he were a sword wielder, I could have taken him in right now. A kid with that kind of grit is rare these days." He looked at his own calloused hands and chuckled.

"I guess that fist-maniac would like him. He's got that same 'punch through the wall' energy."

Hamdal nodded in agreement. "He certainly does. He's already caught the eye of the upper echelons."

Then, the Headmaster's expression shifted. The mirth vanished, replaced by the calculating gaze of a leader who had just found the perfect solution to a stalemate.

He turned his head slowly toward the Elven Prime Minister.

"I have a proposal, Legolas," Hamdal said, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips.

Legolas straightened, wary but curious. "I am listening, Headmaster."

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