"You want Elena under Elven protection because you fear for her safety here. I want her to stay because I believe she needs to grow strong among her peers," Hamdal began, his voice steady.

"The students are heading to Grimhold. It is a dangerous path, yes, but it leads toward the neutral territories—and eventually, it borders the Elven fringes."

Hamdal folded his hands over his desk. "Let Elena Moonshadow join them. She will travel with Grey and the others. This journey will be her 'forge.' If she makes it to the border of your lands through her own strength and the help of her comrades, you may take her for your 'specialized training' then. But until that moment, she remains a student of this academy, moving under her own will."

Armin whistled. "Sending the girl into the wild with a bunch of first-years while the Eclipse Beasts are hunting her? You're a cold one, Hamdal."

"It's not just 'a bunch of first-years,'" Hamdal countered, looking at Armin. "They have Ignis's backing, and they have Grey." He looked back at Legolas.

"Well, Prime Minister? She gets your protection eventually, and I get my warrior. Do we have a deal?"

Legolas remained silent for a long moment, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the arm of his chair. The elegance of his features was marred by a deep frown of dissatisfaction.

"This is madness, Hamdal," Legolas finally spoke, his voice tight.

"You are suggesting we use the most important bloodline in the century as bait for a field trip. It jeopardizes Elena's safety beyond measure. If she falls in the wilds of Grimhold, the World Tree falls with her."

Hamdal leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with a fierce light. "Safety is an illusion, Legolas. Those traitors and beasts proved that by walking right into my hallways. If she stays here, she's a target in a box. If she moves, she's a ghost in the wind. And with Grey at her side, she has a shield that doesn't just block—it bites back."

Legolas looked at the Shadow Guards behind him, then back at the Headmaster. He sighed, realizing Hamdal would not be moved by fear.

"Fine," Legolas conceded, though his eyes remained sharp. "I will entertain this gamble. But I will not entrust the Saintess's vision to a boy based on hearsay. If this Grey is to be her guardian, he must prove his worth. I propose a duel."

He gestured to the Shadow Guard on his right. The figure stepped forward, the black silk of his hood shifting to reveal a glimpse of a cold, scarred jawline. "Harlon will face the boy. If Grey can hold his own against a member of the Royal Shadow Unit, I will accept your proposal."

Thorgar's eyes widened. "Headmaster, wait! Harlon is a seasoned operative of the Shadow Unit. His Rank is far beyond a first-year, even one as talented as Grey. This isn't a duel; it's a slaughter!"

But Hamdal didn't flinch. Instead, he let out a hearty, booming laugh that echoed through the room.

"A Shadow Guard versus my C-Class brat? Now that is a show worth watching!" He slammed his desk.

"I accept! We'll hold it in the private training grounds within the hour."

Armin leaned back on the sofa, a look of pure intrigue crossing his face. He began to hum a low tune, his fingers mimicking the motion of drawing a sword. "A Royal Shadow against a kid from the auxiliary C class... This is getting interesting. I might actually enjoy my first day as a 'Professor.'"

Thorgar, however, was not amused. He clicked his tongue in sharp annoyance, his gaze fixed on the floor.

He knew Grey was strong, but the Headmaster was playing a dangerous game with the boy's life.

*****

"How the hell did I get myself into this situation?" Grey stood in the center of the private arena, the cool morning air doing little to soothe his rising adrenaline.

Just an hour ago, he was packing a bag for a journey to Grimhold; now, he was the center of attention for the most powerful people on the continent.

He glanced up at the high stands. Hamdal was grinning like a madman, while the newcomer Armin watched with the lazy, predatory gaze of a cat.

Legolas looked skeptical, and Thorgar looked like he was about to have a heart attack.

On the opposite side, the stakes felt even heavier. Elena was there, her face pale with worry, standing alongside Blaze, Aeron, Lenore, and a very confused Zenon.

Even Princess Erowen had made an appearance, her sharp eyes narrowed in scrutiny.

Across the sandy floor, the world seemed to darken around the figure of Harlon. The Shadow Guard didn't breathe—he simply existed.

The Elven warrior cupped his fists, offering a curt, formal bow. "Harlon of the Royal Shadow Unit. Do not expect mercy, boy. I am the wall that stands between the Saintess and the dark."

[ Harlon Darkmend ]

[RACE: Royal Elves

BLOODLINE: Shodowrend (Legendary)

LEVEL: 52 (EXP: 1190/ 62000)

CULTIVATION REALM: Resplendent Core(Aura),

STAMINA: 69

STRENGTH: 82

INTELLIGENCE: 58

AGILITY: 79

ORIGIN SKILLS: One with the Shadow (S), Blessings of the world tree (SS)

GENERAL SKILLS: Swift daggers (B+), Shadow form (A+), Shadow steps (A), Shadow slash (S), heart piercer (A+)

"He'll be tough!"

Grey took a breath, settling into a low, balanced stance. He didn't have fancy titles, but he had the weight of his own survival.

"Grey. C-Class. Let's just get this over with."

"BEGIN!" Hamdal's voice boomed across the grounds.

The moment the word left the Headmaster's lips, Harlon vanished.

He didn't just move fast; he dissolved into a streak of black ink. The air to Grey's left rippled, and a foot reinforced with dark mana whistled toward his temple.

Grey tilted his head back, the wind of the kick grazing his nose, and swung a heavy counter-fist into the void.

CRACK!

His fist met a forearm wrapped in shadow. Harlon reappeared mid-air, spinning with the grace of a falling leaf to land silently five meters away.

The Shadow Guard's eyes flickered with a hint of surprise—most first-years would have lost their heads in the first three seconds.

"Not bad," Harlon whispered, his hands blurring as he drew two curved obsidian daggers. "But let's see how you handle a shadow you can't touch."

Grey's eyes narrowed. He could feel the pressure from the stands, but he tuned it out.

He focused on the flow of mana in the air, his muscles tensing as he prepared to show the "regal" audience exactly why he was the one who walked out of that forest alive.

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