The arena was in chaos.
The once-silent training hall now buzzed with shouts and hurried footsteps as the medics poured in. A few teachers followed, their robes flaring with urgency as runes lit beneath their boots. The runic barrier had vanished, but the air still crackled faintly with leftover mana.
Livia lay at the far end of the arena, conscious but trembling, her breathing ragged. Her eyes were half-lidded, fixed on the ceiling with a dazed kind of satisfaction. When the medics reached her, she waved them off weakly.
"Don't… touch the boy," she muttered between shallow breaths. "He's not the problem here."
Her words only confused them more.
Meanwhile, across the room, Zane sat calmly on a broken section of the arena floor. His hoodie was half-torn — one sleeve ripped clean off, and the edge burned faintly at the hem.
Mira crouched in front of him, her expression torn between worry and disbelief.
"Zane, you—you're seriously not hurt?"
Luna crossed her arms, tilting her head. "He was literally kicked by a teacher who moves faster than sound and he looks… fine."
Zane looked at the fading scratches on his arm. Most of them were already closing. The faint shimmer of darkness retreated beneath his skin like a tide going out.
"Guess she didn't hit hard enough," he said, deadpan.
Celeste stared at him, then at the floor where a literal crater still smoked. "You're insane."
"I've heard worse," he said with a faint smirk. Then, tugging at the torn fabric of his hoodie, he sighed.
"Damn it. This was my favorite one too."
Luna blinked. "You nearly died and that's your first concern?"
"Priorities," Zane replied, as if it were obvious.
The medics approached, clearly expecting to treat a half-dead student. When they saw Zane's state, one of them just froze mid-step.
"Are—are you sure you don't need—?"
"I'm good," Zane interrupted before they could finish. "Maybe a new hoodie, though."
They exchanged looks but decided not to argue.
Then the door burst open.
Asher came running in, slightly out of breath. "What the hell happened here—?!"
He stopped when he saw the destruction. Half the arena was cracked, water still pooling across the floor, and Zane sitting in the middle of it all like it was just another Tuesday.
"You…" Asher pointed at him, completely lost for words. "You fought Professor Livia? The mid-rank Expert? And you're still breathing?"
Zane tilted his head, pretending to think. "Breathing, yes. Winning… debatable."
Luna gave a tiny grin. "You literally launched her through a barrier."
"Details," Zane said.
But by then, the whispers had already started. Students crowding near the doors, faces pressed against the glass.
"Did you hear? That's him—the Dorm God."
"He beat an Expert!"
"With no ability!"
"Someone said his punch left an afterimage—like a shadow…"
Zane groaned quietly, dragging a hand down his face. "Great. Just what I needed."
Asher blinked. "Fame?"
"Attention."