Zuli scowled, exasperated but impressed. "Where have you trained? Don't tell me you're a spy from another unit."
Sylene didn't answer. He straightened slowly, lowering his arms with silent grace, expression unreadable.
"You've been trained since young—maybe longer than me," Zuli muttered with a groan. His voice carried frustration, but there was a note of reluctant admiration beneath it. He glanced again at the boy—young, slender, yet built with a quiet sturdiness that shouldn't have been possible.
Every hit he landed had felt like striking a wall made of reinforced alloy.
The medical team had already examined him multiple times, searching for what made him different, but they'd found nothing. Julien himself had overseen every tests, present everytime the boy have medical test, the doctors calling Sylene "special," but even they couldn't explain it. The boy's bones were abnormally dense, harder than steel, yet flexible enough to absorb impact.
