I barely had time to push myself to my feet before Kellan moved again.
No more feints. No more playful smirks.
This time, he wasn't holding back.
Wind surged around him, his injured leg no longer slowing him down. He wasn't suppressing the pain—he was ignoring it completely.
I clicked my tongue. This bastard.
"Felix, Leo—move!" I barked.
Felix yelped, diving to the side as Kellan's palm struck the ground where he'd been standing. A gust of compressed air exploded outward, scattering leaves and dust into the air.
Leo cursed, scrambling behind Garrick. "This isn't a battle—this is murder!"
Kellan's students closed in, capitalizing on the chaos. The elites of Class B weren't just skilled—they were coordinated. They split into pairs, aiming to separate us.
Mira's voice cut through the confusion. "Julien, now!"
A streak of movement from the treetops—then Julien dropped down like a phantom, daggers flashing.
His blade sliced toward Kellan's exposed side.
