Izan lingered near the edge of the field, observing.
He recognized a few faces immediately—players he'd watched before, some he'd even played against in La Liga. But they were all teammates now.
Mikel Arteta stood nearby, arms crossed, watching his players with a sharp gaze.
Every now and then, he called out instructions, correcting positioning, and reinforcing tactical ideas.
The intensity of his presence was unmistakable.
Izan stayed back for a moment, just taking it all in. He'd been a Valencia man his entire life.
The badge on his training kit had always been the bat. Now, it was a cannon.
A new battlefield indeed.
One of the assistant coaches leaned toward Arteta, speaking low but clear enough for Izan to catch.
"Boss, Miura just arrived."
Arteta's brow lifted slightly, his arms still folded as he turned his head.
Sure enough, Izan stood a short distance away, hands in his pockets, taking in the training session.
That was unexpected.
