Chapter 148. Stripped of Their Words, Their Thoughts, Their Ability to Speak
Kaela, who moments ago had been cursing her bruised ribs and Lia’s attitude, sat frozen. Her mouth hung slightly open, the fire in her eyes extinguished by pure, unadulterated awe.
Even Lia, who prided herself on maintaining a composed, analytical demeanor, found her hands going still. Her mind, usually racing with tactical assessments and magical calculations, went completely blank.
The water droplets still clinging to her robes seemed to suspend themselves in midair, forgotten.
Clara’s quill stopped mid-stroke. A single blot of ink fell from the nib onto her journal, spreading like a dark wound across the parchment, but she didn’t notice.
Her analytical mind, the one that sought to categorize and understand every variable, had encountered something that defied simple documentation. She stared at the way the silver light played off Catherine’s breastplate, her pupils dilating as she tried and failed to process the sheer aesthetic and magical weight of the woman before them.
Even Olivia, the queen of dry amusement and detached observation, lost her smirk. Her arms slowly uncrossed, her posture straightening unconsciously.
The cynicism that usually acted as her shield shattered against the sheer radiance of Catherine’s approach.
As Catherine drew closer, the only sound was the rhythmic, metallic clink tap of her armored boots against the stone, a sound that seemed to echo unnaturally loud in the sudden, vacuum like silence.
The sunlight glinted off her helm, casting a halo of silver light that seemed to push back the very shadows of the courtyard.
The students, the warriors, the scholars, and the rivals all stood paralyzed. The bickering was dead.
The pain was forgotten. The ego had vanished. In the face of such overwhelming, legendary majesty, they found themselves stripped of their words, their thoughts, and their very ability to speak.
The spell of silence shattered as violently as a glass pane struck by a hammer. Kaela was the first to break.
Her pupils dilated with an almost manic hunger, her training instincts overriding her shock in a heartbeat. Before William could even draw a full breath, she was already in motion, breaking into an outright sprint across the training ground, her boots kicking up sprays of gravel as she tore toward the center of the yard.
"Is that from Grock’s forge?! Look at the joint articulation—that’s incredible!" Kaela shouted as she neared, her voice cracking with unfiltered excitement.
She didn’t stop until she was practically vibrating in Catherine’s personal space, circling her like a predator that had just discovered a new species. "How much does it weigh?! Can I touch it?! Does it actually let you move as fast as it looks like it should?!"
"Is it enchanted for kinetic distribution?!?!?!?!"
Catherine’s composure wavered for a moment before breaking into a genuine, warm laugh that seemed to dispel the heavy tension like sunlight through fog.
"One question at a time, Kaela," she said, raising her hands in mock surrender as the younger woman continued to orbit her with the frantic, delighted energy of a child inspecting a legendary relic.
"Sorry, sorry!" Kaela gasped, though she didn’t back off an inch. "It’s just genuinely the coolest thing I’ve seen all week and this week already included fighting actual monsters that tried to rip our throats out!"
"It’s considerably lighter than it looks," Catherine offered, her voice steady and amused.
She shifted slightly, allowing Kaela to get close enough to examine the intricate silver filigree on the shoulder plating. "Built specifically around speed rather than pure defense."
"Grock spent two weeks on the metallurgy alone to ensure the weight distribution wouldn’t drag on the joints."
Lia, Ellie, and Clara moved in like a slow-motion wave, drawn by the magnetic pull of the armor’s craftsmanship.
Lia’s eyes weren’t on the beauty but on the practical magical conduits woven into the metal; Ellie looked at it with genuine wonder, and Clara, ever the analyst, was already mentally cataloging the defensive capabilities.
"The mana conductivity in those etchings is fascinating," Lia murmured, leaning in despite herself; her earlier irritation was completely evaporated. "It would allow for almost instantaneous spell casting without the usual casting lag."
"It’s beautiful," Ellie added softly, almost awestruck.
For several minutes, the training ground transformed from a tense arena into something resembling a workshop. The earlier blood, the bruises, and the bitter arguments were momentarily pushed aside by the shared fascination of warriors witnessing a masterpiece of war.
However, as the initial wave of awe began to subside, the familiar spark returned to Kaela’s eyes. The awe was still there, but beneath it, something more dangerous was stirring the competitive fire that burned hotter than her own flames.
A mischievous grin spread across her face, one that William recognized instantly as a harbinger of trouble.
’Here we go,’ William thought, rubbing his temples. ’The adrenaline is back, and with it comes the stupidity.’
"We should test it properly," Kaela said suddenly, her voice dropping into a challenging register that drew everyone’s attention back to her.
She planted her hands on her hips, her stance shifting from curious admirer to combatant in a split second. "Two versus two!"
"Me and you against Lia and Instructor Wade."
Catherine arched an eyebrow, a challenging smile playing on her lips. "That’s an interesting pairing, Kaela."
"Though I don’t think instructors are meant to team up against their own students quite that directly... That seems like a breach of protocol."
"Oh, come on! Don’t be boring, Vice Headmaster!" Kaela pressed, stepping closer, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "You want to see if Grock’s masterpiece actually works in a real spar, don’t you?"
William stepped forward, crossing his arms. "I’m not sure... I’m interested in being the anvil for your new toy, Kaela."
"Fine, fine, then switch it!" Kaela shouted, waving her hands dismissively as if solving a complex tactical problem. "You and Instructor Wade against me and Lia!"
Catherine glanced sideways at William, and for a heartbeat, the playful atmosphere evaporated. Something sharp, metallic, and intensely competitive flashed between them, a silent challenge that spoke of years of sparring, of countless battles where they had both refused to back down.
Neither was particularly thrilled at the prospect of being paired together, especially not in front of an audience of their own students who were already primed to judge every misstep.
"I don’t need to be carried by a partner," William said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous register.
It was a mild challenge, but the way his fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword made his meaning crystal clear. He wasn’t just talking about the spar; he was stating his philosophy as a warrior.
"Nor do I," Catherine replied instantly, her chin lifting.
The silvery armor seemed to pulse with her conviction, the lunar light catching the edge of her jaw. "Try to keep up, William... I’d hate to leave you behind."
"Then it’s settled!" Kaela shouted, completely oblivious or perhaps willfully ignorant of the unspoken tension between the two instructors.
Before either could formulate a proper objection, she had already seized Lia by the wrist, dragging the reluctant mage toward the opposite end of the training ground. "Two versus two! No holding back!"
"Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!"
"Kaela, wait this lacks tactical cohesion--" Lia started to protest, but she was already being swept up in Kaela’s hurricane of energy.
The match began not with a measured opening, but with absolute, unmitigated chaos. Kaela ignited, her body wreathed in flickering orange flames as she charged forward with her signature reckless enthusiasm.
She wasn’t thinking about formation or defensive rotations; she was simply a living fireball aimed directly at the instructors. Her opening was so impulsive, so violently direct, that it forced Lia to abandon her own careful, methodical positioning.
Lia had no choice but to abandon her spell-weaving stance and sprint to keep pace with her partner’s madness, casting desperate bursts of water magic just to create a barrier between them and the oncoming inferno.
William and Catherine exchanged a single, knowing glance. At first, they treated the assault as little more than a lighthearted exercise a warm up after a long morning.
William met Kaela’s first strike, a devastating overhead slash fueled by raw heat, with a casual, almost insulting display of skill. His blade moved in a lazy arc, deflecting her attack with minimal effort that sent sparks flying across the stone.
’Too predictable,’ he thought, his mind already dissecting her footwork. ’She’s leading with her emotions again. All heat, no heart.’
"Is that all you’ve got?" William provoked, parrying another desperate slash with something dangerously close to boredom. "You’re swinging like you’re trying to scare away flies, Kaela."
"Shut up and fight!" Kaela screamed, her face flushed with both exertion and fury.
Meanwhile, Catherine moved like liquid silver. As Lia attempted a more measured approach, weaving a complex web of pressurized water tendrils to ensnare her, Catherine simply... wasn’t there.
She sidestepped the attack with an economy of motion that made it look like she had teleported, the silvery plates of her armor sliding against each other with a sound like silk on steel. She danced through the water magic as if it were nothing more than morning mist.
"You’re too slow, Lia," Catherine teased lightly, though her eyes remained sharp, tracking every micro movement of the girl’s fingers. "Precision requires more than just intent."