Cole’s office was at the end of the faculty corridor, last door on the left.
Small room. No decorations. Bookshelves with actual books, not display copies. A desk with paper on it. Two chairs that had clearly been used for working rather than impressing anyone.
Cole was already seated when Corbyn arrived. Sleeves rolled up. No jacket. The look of someone who had been in this chair for hours and intended to be in it for several more.
He gestured at the chair across from him.
Corbyn sat.
"Show me the challenge notification," Cole said.
Corbyn pulled it up and angled it so Cole could read it.
Cole read it once.
Then leaned back.
"You accepted," Cole said.
"Yes," Corbyn said.
"Good," Cole said. "Declining would have been worse." He folded his hands. "What can you do right now. Honestly. No optimism."
Corbyn thought about it.
"Partial manifestation," Corbyn said. "Translucent. Maybe forty seconds before my mana starts burning through reserves. Full presence, I don’t know. The stability notification read fifty-eight percent this afternoon."
"Recovery estimate?" Cole said.
"Twenty-six hours from this afternoon," Corbyn said. "So tomorrow evening at the earliest for ninety percent."
"Which leaves one full day to test a clean summon before the duel," Cole said.
He was quiet for a moment. Not thinking. He had already thought. Just letting the shape of it settle.
"Here’s what happens over the next three days," Cole said. "Mornings with me. Five sharp. Body work and movement foundation. No mana exercises during my sessions — your channels need to recover without additional strain." He looked at Corbyn directly. "Nights with Ishtar. Whatever she covers is hers to cover. We don’t interfere with each other."
"She already said the same thing," Corbyn said.
"I know," Cole said. "We discussed it this morning." He picked up his pen. "On day three your notification should read above ninety. Before you come to me you test a clean full summon alone. If it holds for sixty seconds without crashing you’re ready. If it doesn’t, you tell me immediately."
"What’s the adjusted plan if it doesn’t hold?" Corbyn said.
"Don’t lose in the first thirty seconds," Cole said.
Corbyn looked at him.
"That wasn’t entirely a joke," Cole said. "Stellan is SS-rank with years of formal training. You are not going to outmatch him in three days. That is not the goal." He set his pen down. "The goal is to show the arena something it hasn’t seen before. Something that doesn’t fit the framework they use to evaluate a fight." A pause. "Stellan has never faced a Calamity-class summon. Nobody in that arena has. That is your only real advantage."
"If I can hold the manifestation long enough," Corbyn said.
"Yes," Cole said. "Which is why the next three days matter." He stood. "Get some sleep. Five sharp tomorrow."
Corbyn stood.
He was almost at the door when Cole spoke again.
"Veatch," Cole said.
Corbyn stopped.
"Stellan filed that challenge to read you," Cole said. "Not to embarrass you. He wants information." He looked at Corbyn steadily. "Don’t give him more than you have to."
Corbyn nodded.
Then he walked out into the corridor.
Sensible man, Ishtar said in his mind.
’You were listening,’ Corbyn thought.
I’m always listening, she said. That’s what the bond is. A pause. He’s right about Stellan. And he’s right about the goal. You’re not going to win this the way a prepared summoner would win it.
’Then how do I win it?’ Corbyn thought.
By making him yield, Ishtar said. There’s a difference.
Corbyn walked back toward the dormitory in the dark, turning that over.
Day one.
Five in the morning. Courtyard. Cold stone and pre-dawn dark.
Cole ran him through movement drills for ninety minutes without stopping for longer than thirty seconds at a time. Footwork first. Weight transfer. Then reaction patterns — Cole throwing a wooden training rod at varying angles while Corbyn moved to avoid it without crossing his feet.
He crossed his feet constantly.
"Again," Cole said each time. No frustration. No variation. Just again.
By six thirty Corbyn’s legs were burning in ways he hadn’t known they could and his footwork was marginally less terrible than when they’d started.
Cole looked at him.
"Better," Cole said. "Not good. Better."
"Is there a difference?" Corbyn said, breathing hard.
"Yes," Cole said. He picked up his documents. "Tomorrow."
He left.
Ishtar dropped down from the wall where she’d been sitting for the last forty minutes.
"Your left foot," she said.
"I know," Corbyn said.
"You lead with it when you move right," she said. "It shows the direction before you’ve committed to it."
"Cole said the same thing," Corbyn said.
"Then perhaps listen to both of us," Ishtar said.
She looked at the space Cole had just vacated. Something thoughtful in her expression.
"He teaches differently from the instructors Aldric had," she said. Not to Corbyn specifically. Just observing. "They were all soldiers. They taught method. Cole is teaching you to find your own."
"Is that better?" Corbyn said.
"For you?" She considered it. "Yes. Probably." She looked back at him. "You don’t have years to learn someone else’s method. You need something that works with what you already are."
Corbyn sat on the bench and stretched his legs out.
"Ishtar," Corbyn said.
"Mm," Ishtar said.
"Stellan’s ability," Corbyn said. "Sovereign Pressure. What does it actually do in a fight?"
"I don’t know specifically," Ishtar said.
Corbyn looked at her.
She met his look directly.
"I have been in this world for two days," Ishtar said. "I know what I’ve seen in this courtyard. I know what Aldric’s era looked like. SS-rank Combat Sovereign in the current framework is not something I have encountered." A pause. "I don’t know what it does in practice. I don’t know its ceiling. I don’t know how it manifests at close range versus distance."
"So we’re going in without knowing what we’re facing," Corbyn said.
"We’re going in without knowing one thing," Ishtar said. "Lyra has been pulling records since last night. Ask her."