Two days had passed since the intense rescue mission.
The academy's grand training field, usually echoing with the clash of swords, the crackle of magic, and the heavy rhythm of drills, was strangely quiet for two days.
Professor Sylvia had ordered a break from normal training, giving the exhausted students a chance to recover.
Students lounged in the courtyards, sharing stories of the mission, some still boasting about their kills while others replayed terrifying moments in whispers.
In the faculty wing, Professor Sylvia sat in her office, sipping lukewarm tea while reviewing reports from the rescue mission.
The door creaked, and a young staff member hurried inside, holding a sealed scroll stamped with the Council of Clan's crimson sigil.
"Professor Sylvia," the staffer said, slightly out of breath, "a letter… from the Council of Clan. It bears the highest priority."
Sylvia's eyes immediately narrowed.
"Few messages carried such a seal, and none came without reason."
