Seraphina Vale, seated beside Kaine, did not look the least bit concerned by his irritation. If anything, she looked delighted. Her green eyes remained fixed on the screen with shameless pleasure, her lips curved into a slow smile that belonged nowhere near a professional evaluation hall.

She had watched the entire fight without blinking more than necessary, and unlike most of the instructors who were still stunned by the danger, the output, or the implications, Seraphina looked like someone who had just watched her favorite art piece reveal a hidden layer.

"Did anyone else catch how he moved near the end?" she asked, her voice smooth and almost lazily amused.

That drew attention again.

Magnus Yaer, who had somehow turned his seat into something resembling a private lounge, leaned back with one elbow draped over the chair and one leg stretched out like he had forgotten he was supposed to look like an authority figure. Despite his relaxed posture, his eyes were sharper than usual as he looked at Liam’s screen.

"Oh, I caught it," Magnus said, sounding far too pleased. "Hard not to, honestly. The kid was barely holding himself together, yet he moved better then than he did when he was less injured."

Lucia turned slightly toward him. "You mean his reaction speed?" 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

"Not just reaction speed," Magnus replied, lifting a finger as though correcting a student. "Reaction speed is one thing. What he did was different. His movement became more fluid. His choices became cleaner. There was no hesitation between seeing, deciding, and acting. It was like everything connected at once."

He shifted in his chair and smirked faintly. "Honestly, for a second there, I thought I was watching myself."

Mystica gave him a sidelong glance. "That is quite the generous comparison. For you."

Magnus placed a hand over his chest with exaggerated offense. "Moony, please. I am wounded. I offer sincere analysis, and you stab me with cruelty."

"You will live."

"I know, but still."

Despite the brief exchange, Seraphina remained focused on the screen. Her smile had faded into something more thoughtful now, though the delight in her eyes had not disappeared.

Magnus was right. Liam’s movement during the latter part of the fight had not been normal. She had watched Liam spar with Kaine during class hours several times, had seen him remain calm under pressure, had seen him adapt to sudden changes and handle psychological weight better than most students twice his age.

But she had never seen that. Not that level of stillness. Not while heavily injured. Not while facing something that could have killed him with one clean mistake.

It made her wonder what exactly had happened inside him during that final stretch.

And then, naturally, because she was Seraphina, her thoughts shifted somewhere far less appropriate.

The smile returned slowly.

’My, my,’ she thought, eyes gleaming with unabashed satisfaction as she watched the replay of Liam forcing the Umbra Star into the Berserker’s maw. ’To think my favorite little monster was hiding something this delicious.’

Her fingers tapped lightly against her cheek.

’When this assessment is over, I am going to drain him until there is nothing left to hide.’

Her smile widened faintly, the thought clearly carrying far too much personal delight.

Kaine, without looking at her, said, "Whatever you’re thinking, stop."

Seraphina’s smile did not falter. "No."

Kaine sighed.

Several seats away, Mystica watched the same screen in silence. Unlike the others, her amusement was softer, quieter, and far more layered.

She had always known Liam possessed dangerous potential. That much had been obvious from the beginning. He was a dark mage, the last of something the world feared and misunderstood, and he carried the blood of Magna through Serah. Darkness and flame. Hunter and Magna. A cursed legacy woven together with royal blood and tragedy. Someone like Liam was always going to become something troublesome if he survived long enough.

But even Mystica had not expected this kind of growth so quickly.

Erasing a Sync-class demon was not something easily dismissed. For eight-star mages like herself and those above, such a feat was possible with the right technique, the right matchup, and enough force.

But for anyone beneath that level, it became far more complicated. Even high-tier seven-stars would not casually erase a regenerative Sync-class demon without preparation or overwhelming advantage. Yet Liam, still only a low-tier six-star, had done exactly that under battlefield conditions while heavily injured.

Dark mage biology or not, that was absurd.

Mystica’s purple eyes reflected the replay as she watched the final explosion bloom again across the screen.

She thought briefly of Percy Granger, who had shown excellent growth during his own years at the academy. Percy was talented, disciplined, and dangerous with his ice affinity. He had power, precision, and control worthy of someone from Crescent’s royal line. Could Percy have done something similar at Liam’s age?

Mystica smiled faintly.

Maybe.

Under the perfect circumstances.

With preparation.

With full reserves.

With far less damage to his body.

Perhaps.

But that was precisely the difference.

Liam had not done this under perfect circumstances. He had done it at the edge of collapse, after being beaten through the forest, drowned into a river, forced into repeated adaptation, and still somehow remained clear-headed enough to erase the Berserker completely.

Still, what interested Mystica most was not the power.

It was why Liam had ended up there in the first place.

Most of the hall believed Liam had pursued the Berserker out of curiosity. Some thought he had discovered signs of Berserker activity and wanted to confirm something. Others believed he was simply too reckless to turn away from a threat. All of those explanations held some truth, but Mystica could see through him more easily than that.

Liam had wanted that fight.

Not for knowledge alone.

Not for evaluation.

Not for the academy.

He had wanted something strong enough to let him vent.

Mystica’s smile remained as she watched him collapse near the edge of destruction on the screen.

’At least you got what you wanted, my little shadow darling,’ she thought quietly. ’Now you will have to deal with what comes after.’

And she was not referring to the physical damage.

At the front, Assistant Lucia Greydon sat almost completely still, her glasses reflecting the paused image of the destruction left behind in Nalim. Awe had settled over her more deeply than before.

She had been stunned when Liam eliminated the evolved Gravecoil. She had been unsettled by how quickly he adapted to Nalim’s hostile terrain. But this was something else entirely. Her mind replayed the sequence again and again, not because she wanted to, but because it was the only thing her thoughts seemed capable of doing.

A sixteen-year-old student had erased a Sync-class demon.

Not survived one.

Not escaped one.

Not stalled one long enough for extraction.

Erased it.

Lucia eventually turned her head toward the Headmaster, perhaps expecting concern, calculation, or even a rare moment of uncertainty from him. Instead, what she saw made her pause.

Headmaster Thion sat in his seat with his eyes still fixed on Liam’s screen, and though his posture remained composed, there was a faint expression in his gaze that Lucia had rarely seen from him so openly.

Shocked amusement.

No, not just amusement.

Satisfaction.

The kind of satisfaction that came from someone watching a prediction prove itself beyond even their own expectations. His eyes had sharpened, his lips held the faintest curve, and for one unsettling moment, Lucia thought he looked less like an educator and more like a man who had just uncovered a treasure he always knew was buried somewhere beneath the ground.

Inside Thion’s mind, one thought rose above all others.

’I was right.’

He had been right about Liam Hunter all along.

The boy was not merely powerful. He was not merely talented. He was not simply another rare student who would graduate, join some kingdom’s elite ranks, and be remembered as exceptional.

He was something else.

Something far more dangerous.

Something far more valuable.

Thion’s fingers slowly tightened against the armrest as the replay began again from the beginning without anyone ordering it to stop. He watched Liam save Charlotte. Watched the Berserker speak. Watched Liam get struck through the forest. Watched him return. Watched the fight sharpen. Watched the final attack erase everything.

And with every second, Thion’s desire to see more grew stronger.

Outwardly, he remained calm.

Almost perfectly so.

But inwardly, the Headmaster felt like a starving man given a single taste of something he had been waiting years to find. The performance should have been enough to satisfy his curiosity, at least for the moment.

Instead, it did the opposite.

It made him crave more.

More pressure.

More danger.

More truth.

More of whatever Liam Hunter was still hiding beneath that calm, indifferent face.

Thion’s faint smile deepened by the smallest margin as his eyes remained locked on the screen.

And in the silence of the Eastern Grand Hall, surrounded by instructors still struggling to process what they had witnessed, the Headmaster realized that Liam Hunter had not reached the limits of his expectations.

He had shattered them.

And now, Thion wanted to know how much further the boy could go.