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... hrough the air like the bow of a cello dragging over ancient strings. Blue light laced the sky, arcing like veins, branching outward. The signal was clear—one only the old instructors and crest-bearers truly recognised. But everyone felt it. On the Northern Wall, cadets froze mid-drill. In the lower courts, sparring blades slowed. Even Roth, crossing the central yard, stopped mid-step and turned his head toward the light. At the base of the terrace, Elric stood with arms folded. Unmoving. Above, ...

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Translator : Noodletown Translated Editor : Noodletown Translated