With the Blood Nights behind them, the academy had fallen back into a more stable rhythm. The chaos and uncertainty of the previous year had been replaced by a relentless push toward improvement. Each student found themselves racing against time, knowing that soon, they would step into the real world—where skill, intelligence, and strength were all that stood between them and death.
For Kalem, the third year had become an exercise in balance.
Between academics, forging, personal training, and preparing for the future, his time was stretched thinner than ever. Yet, he continued without complaint, steadily refining both his skills and his understanding of the world around him.
Kalem's work at the forges had shifted in focus. Now that he had overcome the glaring oversight of not knowing how to forge armor for women, he had moved on to greater challenges—experimenting with new materials, designs, and forging methods.
One of his recent projects involved refining the properties of resonance crystals, much like the one embedded in his own sword. His initial integration had been functional, but he knew there was more potential to be unlocked.
One afternoon, he stood over his workstation, carefully etching runes into a fragment of azure crystal, watching as the mana reacted to the incisions. Across from him, Lyra observed with a critical eye.
"Still experimenting with those?" she asked, arms crossed.
Kalem nodded. "I'm trying to improve their efficiency. The vibrations are powerful, but the energy consumption is ridiculous. If I can stabilize the resonance, I can increase the output without wasting so much mana."
Lyra tilted her head. "And if you can't?"
"Then I'll find another way," Kalem replied simply.
She smirked. "I'd say that's overconfidence, but with you, it's just how things work."
While most of Kalem's time was spent on personal development, the academy itself was far from idle.
The faculty had grown more cautious, especially after the Blood Nights. The sheer number of assassins that had infiltrated the city had exposed glaring weaknesses in security, and though the academy remained a neutral entity, there were those who saw opportunities in its vulnerability.
Certain students, particularly those from noble families or political backgrounds, had begun maneuvering in more obvious ways. Small alliances were being formed, rivalries subtly reinforced.
Kalem, for the most part, ignored it.
He had no interest in academy politics. He had made it clear that he wasn't looking for sponsorship, noble ties, or factional involvement. Yet, that did not stop others from trying to involve him.
"Kalem."
He looked up from his lunch to see Armand Luthen, a fourth-year student, standing before him. Armand was a well-known strategist, the heir to a noble house with strong military ties. Unlike some of the more arrogant noble students, he carried himself with measured confidence—never wasting words, never making unnecessary moves.
Kalem didn't particularly dislike him, but he had little interest in what the man had to say.
Still, he acknowledged him with a nod. "Armand."
The older student sat across from him. "You've been keeping a low profile. Smart move, but not a sustainable one."
Kalem raised an eyebrow. "And why's that?"
"The moment you graduated top of your class in Environmental Impact Studies, your 'low profile' was shattered," Armand said dryly. "People are noticing. You're not just another student, Kalem."
Kalem leaned back, unimpressed. "I've never cared about what people notice."
"That's exactly the problem." Armand's expression remained neutral, but there was an underlying sharpness to his words. "You don't maneuver, you don't make alliances, and you don't play the game. Which means someone else will do it for you. The more you ignore it, the more dangerous it becomes."
Kalem sighed, pushing his tray aside. "Let me guess. You have a solution?"
"I have an offer." Armand folded his hands together. "A partnership, of sorts. I don't expect loyalty, nor do I expect you to act on my behalf. But consider this—a mutual agreement to watch each other's backs."
Kalem narrowed his eyes. "You think I need protection?"
"I think everyone does," Armand corrected. "You can handle yourself in a fight, no doubt about that. But influence, resources, and information matter just as much as skill. I don't want an alliance of dependence—I want an alliance of mutual benefit."
Kalem considered his words.
Armand wasn't wrong. While Kalem preferred to avoid unnecessary entanglements, he wasn't naïve—he knew that remaining completely neutral was impossible.
Still, he wasn't one to agree without weighing the risks.
"I'll think about it," he said finally.
Armand gave a small nod. "That's all I ask."
And with that, he left.
Later that night, Kalem sat in his quarters, finishing the last modifications on a custom gauntlet design for Nara.
She had requested an upgrade—something that could withstand both her physical strength and her fire-based attacks. The result was a layered gauntlet with heat-resistant plating and mana-refining circuits, designed to channel her energy more efficiently.
The moment he finished, he sent word to Nara to pick it up. It wasn't long before she arrived, her usual energy as fiery as ever.
"You better have something good," she said, cracking her knuckles. "I don't like waiting."
Kalem handed her the gauntlet. "Try it."
She slipped it on, flexing her fingers before throwing a short, controlled punch. The air around her fist shimmered with heat as the circuits pulsed.
Her eyes widened. "That's way smoother than before."
Kalem nodded. "Less energy loss. You'll burn through mana slower, and the plating will hold up better under heat strain."
Nara grinned. "You're getting scary with this stuff, you know that?"
Kalem smirked. "You're just now realizing?"
She rolled her eyes, but there was genuine appreciation in her gaze. "This'll do. Thanks."
With that, she left, and Kalem returned to his work.
There was always something new to improve, something new to refine.
Even as time marched forward, he wasn't slowing down.
If anything, he was only getting started.