The training ground was quieter than the main hall.
No crowd.
No noise.
Just stone, light… and him.
Aurelion Weiss stood with his back to Liebe.
Straight.
Still.
Unmoving.
“Again.”
No greeting.
No explanation.
Liebe raised his hand.
Focused.
Tried to recall the feeling.
Warmth.
Control.
A flicker— and it collapsed.
Gone.
Silence.
“…Too forceful,” Aurelion said.
He turned slightly.
Golden eyes, sharp and unreadable.
A pause.
“Light doesn’t obey like that.”
Liebe lowered his hand.
“…Then how?”
Aurelion stepped closer.
Not fast.
But precise.
“Discipline,” he said.
He raised his own hand.
Light formed instantly.
Not bright.
Not overwhelming.
Perfect.
Stable.
Alive.
Liebe stared.
“…That’s different.”
“It is control,” Aurelion replied.
A beat.
“Something you don’t have.”
The words were blunt.
But not mocking.
Just truth.
Aurelion lowered his hand.
“…You survived the plaza,” he added.
A slight shift in tone.
“Most wouldn’t.”
Liebe didn’t answer.
“Don’t mistake survival for strength.”
Silence.
Then—
“Again.”
Liebe raised his hand once more.
This time— slower.
Careful.
Not forcing.
Just… reaching.
A faint glow appeared.
Unstable.
Weak.
But there.
Aurelion watched.
Quietly.
“…Better.”
Just one word.
But it stayed.