They left Edrin Hollow three days later.
The decision was made after the containment core beneath the ridge stabilized enough that the draw slowed to a manageable level. It hadn't been repaired in any permanent sense. The instructors were honest about that. They had reinforced, redirected, and bought time, and time was sometimes the best gift a place like Edrin Hollow could receive.
A longer-term solution would require specialists, likely from the capital, and perhaps the Magic Council itself. Those words carried weight even when spoken quietly. The kind of weight that meant politics would follow, and that Edrin Hollow would not be allowed to fade back into being forgotten.
For now, the ward ring held.
Villagers watched the academy teams pack up supplies with expressions that mixed gratitude and lingering fear. No one here believed danger simply disappeared because a group of students and instructors had walked through it.
Kael's team helped load the last of the stabilizer kits onto a cart, then gathered near the road with the others. Darian looked tired but steadier. Lyra had fewer notes than she wanted and more than she could easily carry, and she kept glancing back toward the ridge as if trying to burn the rune pillar's shape into memory. Seraphine stood quietly, cloak fastened, her gaze on the villagers more than the hills.
An older woman approached Marrow and pressed something into his hands—a small pouch of dried herbs, a practical gift rather than ceremony. Marrow accepted it with a nod and a few words Kael couldn't hear, and the woman stepped back with the stiff posture of someone refusing to show fear in front of strangers.
As the teams began to move, Kael fell into step with his group, the settlement slowly receding behind them. The path down from the hills felt different than the path up had. The air seemed lighter, the pull less insistent, though Kael knew that didn't mean it was gone. It only meant it was contained again—for now.
Darian spoke quietly as they walked. "I thought it would feel like we won," he admitted. "But it mostly feels like… we stopped losing."
Lyra nodded, her voice subdued. "Containment isn't victory. It's maintenance."
Seraphine glanced at them, then said calmly, "Sometimes maintenance is what keeps people alive. That matters."
Kael listened, letting their words settle.
The road lengthened behind them, and by evening the hills had softened into gentler slopes. They camped once under instructor supervision, and then continued, the academy's white stone rising into view by the afternoon of the second day.
Returning through the western gate felt strange. The academy looked unchanged, its walls bright, its paths clean, its wards steady and controlled. Students who had not been deployed moved through the courtyard with the usual pace of school life, and for a moment Kael felt as though they were stepping into a different world rather than returning to the same one.
Word traveled quickly.
They didn't need to announce where they had been or what they had done. People saw their packs, their dust-stained cloaks, the staff walking with them, and speculation filled the gaps.
Kael heard fragments as they crossed the courtyard.
"…they went to the border…"
"…beast breach, I heard…"
"…Team Seven held a barrier under pressure…"
"…Valeris was there…"
He kept his expression neutral, walking with steady pace beside Darian, Lyra, and Seraphine. Their formation itself attracted attention. They had been assembled by logistics, but now they moved with familiarity that others noticed.
Marrow dismissed the teams after a short debrief, assigning rest and reporting duties. Kael returned to the dormitory, the familiar corridors suddenly feeling narrower after open hills and village streets.
Inside his room, he set down his pack and sat for a long moment, letting the quiet settle. The academy hum felt steady here, structured and safe, and yet his mind kept returning to the seal's crack and the way mana had pulled toward it like water to a drain.
He thought of Edrin Hollow's villagers, of the older man telling him to try harder, of lamps flickering in a place that depended on tired wards and imperfect hands.
Then he thought of his family's letter, its cold practicality, and how it hadn't asked him to protect anyone, only to survive and not shame the house.
A knock came at his door.
When he opened it, Lyra stood there with her notebooks held tight, her expression less frantic than usual but no less intent.
"I'm not here to interrogate you," she said quickly, then paused as if realizing how that sounded. "I mean—I have questions, but I'm trying to be… normal about it."
Kael almost smiled, but he kept his face composed. "What do you want."
Lyra hesitated, then said, "We should compare notes on the ward lattice behavior. Not gossip. Actual structure. If we don't understand it, we'll be surprised again when the next instability happens."
It was the most Lyra way of expressing concern he could imagine.
Kael nodded once. "Later," he said. "After rest."
Lyra looked relieved, then nodded sharply and left.
Darian caught him later in the corridor, offering a short, wordless gesture that felt like respect rather than friendship. Seraphine passed him near the courtyard and said only, "You handled yourself well," in a tone that suggested she meant more than the words contained.
That evening, Kael sat at his desk and stared at the blank space where his thoughts wanted to become plans. The system remained quiet, but he could feel it in the background of his mind, present the way a second heartbeat might be present if someone learned to notice it.
After a while, a faint panel appeared at the edge of his vision, subtle enough that it didn't feel like an interruption.
Law Observation Lv.1
Progress: increased
No grand announcement. No dramatic flourish. Simply a record of growth, as impersonal as the system itself.
Kael watched the panel for a moment, then let it fade.
Outside his window, the academy grounds were calm, lamps lit along the paths with steady enchantment. Students laughed somewhere in the distance, the sound ordinary and easy.
Kael leaned back slightly, listening to it. The academy felt the same as it had before he left, but he didn't feel the same within it, and he suspected that change would continue whether he wanted it to or not.
For now, he unpacked his supplies, folded his travel cloak, and placed the letter from House Valeris in the bottom of his desk drawer where it could stay out of sight.
Tomorrow would bring classes again, schedules and expectations, and all the familiar structures that made the academy what it was. Tonight, Kael let himself sit in quiet and accept the simple fact that he had returned, that Edrin Hollow still stood behind him, and that the world outside the walls was no longer abstract.
It had faces now. Voices. Weight.
And that made it harder to ignore.