The seven staggered as they tried to regain their footing—coughing, trembling, hearts hammering in shock. Confusion and alarm flickered in their eyes.
Who would attack them here—in the secluded, long-forgotten training grounds?
And why?
From beyond the haze, a voice cut through the air—dry, mocking, laced with a hint of amusement.
???: "Well, well… finally awake, are we?"
Their heads snapped toward the voice.
Four figures now stood at the far end of the yard, radiating a presence so potent it seemed to press against their chests.
Their aura was subtle yet unmistakable—something far beyond anything they had felt before.
At first glance, they appeared completely human, yet something about them made the seven freeze in place. The invisible pressure of their presence demanded attention… and respect.
The two men stood in front—strikingly different yet equally commanding.
The man at the front drew every gaze first.
His deep crimson hair, streaked faintly with molten gold, was wild yet regal—swept back as if stirred by an invisible flame.
Despite that untamed energy, his perfectly pressed black tailcoat lent him an air of refined nobility. Beneath it, a pristine white silk shirt lay smooth against his form, the elegant cravat at his throat catching the light with a subtle gleam.
The faint scent of smoke lingered around him, trailing like a whisper of the fire that burned in his blood. His eyes glowed—not just with heat, but with pride. His very aura crackled, demanding acknowledgment.
Beside him stood a man with silver-white hair kissed by pale blue, flowed just past his shoulders—tousled elegantly, as though even the wind refused to leave him untouched.
His navy-blue suit was sharp, tailored perfectly to his tall frame, a glint of silver from a pocket watch chain catching the sunlight. His expression was easy, lips curved into an amused half-smile that spoke of someone who found everything just a little too entertaining.
Behind them stood two women—grace embodied, yet their presence carried a weight that could bend the air itself.
One had dark chestnut-brown hair streaked faintly with moss green and gold, cascading down her back in gentle waves. Tiny ornamental leaves and delicate gold accents were woven through the strands, as if nature itself had chosen to adorn her.
She wore a flowing emerald-green gown, simple yet regal—its golden embroidery shimmering subtly with every movement. Her presence radiated quiet strength, calm and unshakable, the kind of steady grace that seemed to root the very world around her.
Beside her stood a woman whose beauty was liquid grace. Her deep ocean-blue hair glimmered with silver hues, cascading like a living waterfall over her shoulders, moving with a hypnotic fluidity.
She wore a white dress edged with delicate silver trim that caught the light with every subtle movement. There was grace in her stillness—each motion soft yet deliberate, as though even silence bent to her will. Her eyes, calm and unreadable, held the depth and weight of the sea—serene yet commanding, gentle yet impossible to defy.
The seven stared, instinctively recognizing that these four were anything but ordinary. Their mere presence commanded silence.
Gerald recovered first. Straightening despite the sting of his burns, he stepped forward with the steady resolve of a knight.
Gerald: "Forgive me, sirs, madams… but may I ask who you are? And why have you attacked us?"
The crimson-haired man smirked, folding his arms with casual arrogance.
Irfin: "Attack? Hah. That's one way to describe it."
He tilted his head slightly, eyes gleaming.
Irfin: "Tell me, boy—who do you think we are?"
The seven exchanged uneasy glances. None of them knew how to answer. The four strangers radiated both refinement and danger—two things that rarely walked hand in hand.
The four radiated overwhelming power, yet there was something more—they felt… deliberate. Intentional. Not hostile… but testing. Assessing.
Then a thought struck them. The Princess's words. The instructors she promised…
Claire swallowed, brushing a strand of hair from her scorched face, eyes wide.
Claire: "W-What… who are they? Are they...?"
Lily, still flexing her hands from the fire that had flared so violently, frowned.
Lily: "I think… they must be. Her Highness said someone would come, someone to teach us. But… this? This is—"
She trailed off, glancing at the crimson-haired man and the silver-haired one, both radiating authority and danger in equal measure.
Lora, brushing soot from her forearms, shot her twin a glance, lips pressed tight.
Lora: "They're… terrifying. And precise. Look at how they stand… like nothing could shake them."
Ella, standing slightly apart, arms crossed, knives at her side, tilted her head.
Ella: "Perfect. Isn't it Good. Finally—people who can actually test us."
Melinda, tending to a few smoldering patches on her clothes, raised an eyebrow, her tone measured.
Melinda: "I don't like it. Not one bit. But… if her highness sent them, then we follow. We improve together. That's all that matters."
Claire, holding her books tightly, whispered, barely audible.
Claire: "I… I just hope. I don't fail. I don't. want to let down. Her Highness."
Gerald straightened, shoulders squared despite the lingering sting of the fireball's heat. His voice was steady, trying to anchor the group.
Gerald: "None of us will fail. We've made it this far. Together, we can endure what comes next."
Lily nudged him lightly, smirking despite the unease creeping over her.
Lily: "Together, huh? Let's hope together means not getting blown into ash on the first day."
Cassia let out a small, shaky laugh, gripping her hands into fists.
Cassia: "I'm ready. I don't care how strong they are. I'm not going to falter again."
Lora stepped closer to Lily, voice quiet but firm.
Lora: "We all need to stay sharp. Whatever they throw at us… we are prepared."
Ella flicked her knives lightly in her hands, her grin sharp.
Ella: "I've waited for this. Time to see if I can finally be faster than anyone."
Claire: "I just… hope I can do. something for. Her Highness."
Gerald placed a hand lightly on her shoulder, voice firm and encouraging.
Gerald: "You will. We all will. But we have to trust ourselves first. Her Highness chose them for a reason. We'll adapt… we will become stronger."