The next morning, a fresh day unfolded.
Noah’s first priority was finding Raven and handing back his tablet. As soon as he was done with his bath, he got dressed and prepared to head out.
Kelvin, on the other hand, was still in bed, buried under his blanket like a corpse.
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"I’m unwell," he mumbled when Noah glanced his way.
Noah raised an eyebrow. "Go see the healers, then."
Kelvin groaned, turning his face deeper into his pillow. "Nope."
"You’re literally dying over there."
"Let me die in peace."
Noah sighed, arms crossed. Kelvin didn’t look critically ill—just exhausted, maybe. Probably spent all night working on something again.
"If it gets worse before I’m back, I’m dragging you to the healers myself," Noah warned. "No complaints."
Kelvin gave a weak thumbs-up from under the blanket.
Noah shook his head and grabbed his things.
The next thing on his agenda was checking in with Sophie. He pulled out his phone and typed a quick message:
[Good morning. Hope you slept well. I’m heading out to return Raven’s tablet now. Got a few things to handle before the next round of fights. I’ll see you at the training hall later.]
He hit send, pocketed his phone, and left the dorm.
Noah thought about how easy life had become with a mobile phone. Everything was just a message away. No need to chase people down, no need to wait for letters, no hassle. He could set up plans, check in with people, and get things done with a few taps on a screen. It almost felt like cheating.
While walking, he decided to take a quick detour to the Year 3 training area. As expected, he spotted Lucas there, engaged in a light sparring session. He was fast, his strikes fluid, his control over his lightning precise. Nearby, a battered training board took the brunt of his electricity, its surface charred from repeated use.
Lucas noticed Noah and gave him a thumbs-up, gesturing him over.
Noah approached, taking in the scene. A lot of other students were training today—not surprising. It was Day 2 of the tournament selection, and those who had a rough start would be eager to patch up their weaknesses.
Striking up a conversation with Lucas, they naturally fell into discussing the betting arrangements.
"Everything still good on your end?" Noah asked.
Lucas wiped sweat off his brow and gave him a look. "Yeah, but I still don’t get why you’re doing this."
Noah sighed. "I just need to make some change for a change."
Lucas narrowed his eyes, clearly reading deeper into Noah’s words, but he didn’t press—at least not immediately. Noah smirked and turned to leave, but Lucas called him back.
Grabbing a towel, Lucas gestured for him to follow outside, away from the ears of the other trainees.
Once they were alone, Lucas leaned against the railing and looked Noah over. "Tell me something. Does it really make sense to keep pretending you’re just some Year 1 kid with a non-combative ability?"
Noah’s expression remained neutral, but he said nothing.
Lucas exhaled. "Look, I don’t know what gen you are, but I do know you’re stronger than you let on. We fought together on Cannadah—I saw what you could do against the Harbingers. Hell, I’ve kept your secret all this time. My vow still stands. But how long do you plan to keep hiding it?"
Noah’s fingers curled slightly at his side.
Lucas continued, his voice steady. "You put yourself in the tournament, Noah. Nobody’s gonna hold back thinking you’re some defenseless Year 1. The more you have to hold back, the harder the fight will be. You know that."
Noah sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You’re right."
Lucas waited, but that was all Noah gave him.
"I’ll do something about it in due time," Noah added, clapping Lucas on the shoulder before walking off.
Lucas didn’t call him back this time.
As Noah moved through the academy grounds, he thought about his options. What was he supposed to do? Walk straight into the administration building and declare himself? Let them test him just to confirm he was still a first-generation? He could show them what he was capable of, but now wasn’t the time.
His thoughts were abruptly cut off when he spotted just the person he was looking for—Raven.
Noah barely had to wait before Raven noticed him and jogged over, flashing his usual eager grin.
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"Boss! I saw you, and I came running."
Noah handed over the tablet. "Kelvin managed to fix it, but he said something about a virus. Not everything could be recovered."
Raven’s fingers moved swiftly over the screen as he checked through the files. Almost immediately, his expression shifted—just for a second. A faint frown. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced with his usual carefree smirk.
Noah tilted his head slightly. "Everything alright?"
Raven chuckled. "Of course, Boss. You think a small hiccup like that could throw me off?" Without missing a beat, he smoothly changed the subject. "By the way, I wasn’t at the hall yesterday when the tournament selection happened, but I heard you beat up a 1A student using nothing but chi."
Noah snorted. "Beat up? I barely survived. I still feel sore from the beating I took."
Raven smirked. "Boss, you’re being way too humble. I know you’re tougher than you let on."
For the briefest moment, Noah’s smile faltered, but he quickly covered it up.
Raven tapped the tablet once more before tucking it under his arm. "Anyway, thanks for getting this sorted out. I owe you one. I’ll be there for your next match—front row."
Noah chuckled. "Just don’t start yelling ’Boss’ from the stands."
Raven laughed. "No promises." With a wink, he turned and strode off, leaving Noah watching him go.
As Raven walked off, Noah’s gaze lingered on him for a moment. Something was off. The guy kept glancing at his phone, and for the briefest second, his expression twisted—pissed, frustrated—but just as quickly, he masked it behind his usual smug demeanor.
’Yeah, he’s definitely hiding something,’ Noah mused.
He had already figured out what Albright wanted from Raven, but the real question was—what did Raven want with Albright? This entire situation was turning into a damn circus.
Vee, Kelvin’s oddly concerning crush, might have some answers, but she was never straightforward. And besides, Noah had other plans today.
For now, he had time to kill before the selection process continued. The previous match results and rankings were set to be posted this evening before the fights resumed, so he didn’t have to worry about that. Five points were already in the bag—one more win, and he’d qualify.
With nothing pressing on his agenda, Noah considered his options. There was one place where he could actually be productive.
The arcade.
He pulled out his phone, about to text Kelvin, but then he stopped. This wasn’t just some casual gaming break.
No—he was going to level up.
He was going to play Elder Genes.