Dasinius was the first to draw his weapon. The rest of the numbered warriors jumped up from their seats. Ternes looked triumphant, Lathea just seemed confused. The rest of the squad mimicked the actions of the clan’s warriors. Only Hadjar remained calm. Something had changed in him. All this fuss now seemed like something unnecessary to him. Something fake.
“I see,” Galenon drawled, squinting slightly. “You really have successfully completed the training. The ancient art burns inside you with a bright spark.”
Suddenly, the Head snatched a splinter from the table and threw it at Hadjar. Before, Hadjar would’ve had to use energy to avoid being injured. Now, he simply raised his hand and casually swung it through the air. The splinter was suddenly in his hand, and then he dropped it back
