Sol-Regis Royal Academy – Sword Training Grounds. Late Afternoon – After School Hours.
The setting sun cast long, crimson shadows across the vast emerald lawn behind the Knight's dormitory. Usually, this place was a sanctuary for diligent students to practice their footwork or engage in friendly sparring. Today, however, the atmosphere had shifted into something far more sinister. It didn't feel like a training ground anymore; it felt like an execution square.
Raphael Sudrath stood in the center of a tightening circle, his breath coming in ragged, painful gulps. His black-and-red uniform, a gift of fine Iron-Spider Silk that Rumina had grumbled about the cost of, was now caked in dust and stained with the green of crushed grass. His hands, though calloused from Riven's hellish training back in the North, trembled with sheer exhaustion as he gripped a blunt wooden practice sword—a Bokken.
