The hall stretched long and empty ahead.
His boots barely made a sound now. A ghost moving through stone veins.
Merlin made it to the next archway before the footsteps caught up to him.
Not fast. Not urgent.
Just persistent.
He turned his head slightly.
A figure approached from the side corridor.
Not a professor. Not a council member.
A student.
Older than him by a few years at least.
Combat track uniform. Sleeves rolled to the elbows. An armband that marked him as a squad leader in the second-year dueling groups.
Sword slung casually at his hip.
The boy smiled as he drew closer.
Too wide. Too easy.
Merlin's fingers twitched near Keryx's hilt.
Reflex. Nothing more.
"Everhart, right?" the boy said, stopping a few meters away.
His tone was light. Almost friendly. But the eyes were wrong.
Sizing. Measuring. Waiting for a crack to show.
Merlin said nothing.
The boy didn't seem bothered. He shifted his weight lazily, thumb hooking under his belt.
