Arlen glanced at his friends, then back at Johnmark. "I don't even know who you are."
"Johnmark, Crownspire Academy, Ashmar Federation." He stepped forward, rolling his shoulders like a fighter warming up. "I want to test myself against Sparkshire's supposed elite. You look competent. So let's see if the Republic's reputation is deserved."
Arlen's expression hardened. "You're serious."
"Completely."
One of the Ashmar students—a girl with short-cropped hair—stepped forward. "Johnmark, we literally just arrived. Maybe don't start a fight within the first hour—"
"I'm not starting a fight," Johnmark interrupted. "I'm requesting a sanctioned spar. That's allowed under the academy rules, right?" He looked at the instructors still standing near the building entrance.
Adept Kira , who'd been observing with barely concealed amusement, shrugged. "Combat training grounds are available. If both parties consent to the match, we won't stop it."
Arlen set his jaw. "Fine. Let's do this."
