Silence had returned, but this time it throbbed with heat and held its breath.
Brix stood in the center of the archive like a pillar about to crack—his fists dimming, steam lifting off his arms, heart hammering with control instead of rage.
Across from him, Lio stood motionless. One shoulder of his coat was torn, and sweat slicked his temple, but his spine remained straight. Still prideful. Still unreadable.
Neither moved. Neither bowed.
Then—
"…You're both so noisy," came a slow, half-lidded voice.
It wasn't scolding.
Just tired.
Brix's eyes widened. He turned.
Lio's jaw twitched. He turned too.
Kairon sat up.
Blinking. Scratching his head like he'd just woken up from a nap in the wrong hammock.
"Did someone knock, or did you two set something on fire again?"
"Again?" Lio echoed, uncertain.
Brix rubbed his neck. "Technically, yes."
Kairon stood, barefoot and unarmed, but every breath he took somehow reset the room's temperature. The pressure. Even the tension in their shoulders.
The Master was awake.
Not shining. Not glaring. Just... present.
Kairon's gaze shifted to Lio, brows furrowed. "You the one with the blade that looks like a spoon with ambition?"
"…Excuse me?"
"You know, shiny, curved wrong, probably enchanted by someone insecure."
Lio blinked, stunned. For once, Pride didn't have a retort.
Kairon yawned. "Yeah, that tracks."
He stepped toward Brix and dropped a hand on the young man's shoulder.
[EXP Transfer: 680,000 delivered.][Skill Rank Up: Scorchfield → Rank D]
Brix shuddered—fire igniting inside, but not burning wild. Controlled. Refined.
Then Kairon walked over to a scroll shelf, rummaged lazily, and muttered, "I was dreaming about honeybread, too. You both owe me a replacement nap."
Lio finally found words. "How do you carry so much power… without ever using it?"
Kairon looked at him and said simply, "I don't. I sleep. They carry it."
It wasn't a boast. It wasn't philosophy.
It was just… true.
Lio stepped forward, eyes narrowed in thought. Then, without flourish, he knelt.
Not in submission. In stillness.
"I request to stay."
Kairon tilted his head.
"You talk like I'm a guildmaster."
"I know you're not," Lio said. "But I don't think I've ever wanted to stay still before."
[System Observation: Request Not Authorized. Student Slot Remaining: 6. Candidate marked: Observing.]
The System didn't answer. Kairon didn't bless.
But he didn't dismiss, either.
And Lio—Pride incarnate—remained kneeling, not as a follower.
But as someone who had finally found someone real enough to wait for.