Cecilia moved like lightning.
Before Noah’s fingers could graze the red patch on her shoulder, she twisted, her body blurring in motion.
Her hand snapped up, seizing his wrist with an iron grip. In the same fluid movement, she pivoted her hips, pulled his arm forward, and flipped him clean over her shoulder.
The world spun for Noah before he slammed into the floor with a thud that echoed across the training hall.
"Gah!" he groaned, the air knocked from his lungs.
Cecilia straightened, laughing softly, her golden eyes bright with amusement. "Now that was much better."
Noah lay there, dazed, one hand pressed to his ribs as he blinked up at her.
"You nearly had me this time," she said, crouching beside him with a grin. "A surprise attack. Finally using that big brain of yours."
Noah rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the faint smirk that appeared on his face.
Cecilia continued, "That means you’re ready for the next little nugget of wisdom."
She straightened, folding her arms as she looked down at him. "Tell me, Noah, what’s the most important thing for a street magician?"
"Street magician?" Still lying on the floor, he squinted up at her. "I don’t know. The hat?"
She snorted. "Close, but no. The answer is misdirection."
Noah pushed himself into a sitting position, his breathing steadying. "Misdirection?"
"Exactly," she said. "If a magician wants to amaze an audience, he doesn’t just show them the trick. He shows them what he wants them to see."
"But since they don’t use actual magic, they use misdirection. They send the audience’s attention elsewhere, while they build the trick on the other side."
She paced slowly in front of him, her tone shifting from light amusement to calm instruction. "And that’s what you must learn to master Entry."
"You need to make your opponent look where you want them to look. Make them believe they know your next move, then strike from where they least expect it."
She gestured towards the patch still glowing on her shoulder. "Entry is as much about creating an illusion as it is about control."
"If you make your opponent believe you’ll attack from the right, he’ll shift his defenses there, and that’s when you attack from the left."
Noah listened intently, nodding slightly. The lesson made sense. It wasn’t purely about speed or strength, it was about manipulating perception. About rhythm and deception.
Cecilia smiled faintly as she saw the understanding dawn in his eyes. "You’re improving, Noah. But don’t get cocky."
"If you truly want to master the Executioner’s Path, you’ll have to blend everything, speed, skill, instinct, and misdirection, into one seamless flow."
He smirked. "Sounds like a lot of work."
She chuckled softly. "Anything worth doing usually is."
Turning towards the exit, she added over her shoulder, "That’s enough for today. You’ve done well. Rest up before I decide to add fireballs into your training."
Noah exhaled and stayed seated for a moment, letting his breathing even out. The ache in his muscles was familiar now, almost comforting.
"Professor," he called suddenly.
Cecilia paused at the door, glancing back with one eyebrow raised. "Yes?"
Noah stood, brushing the dust off his shirt. "I received an invitation to the Winter Ball."
Her brows lifted in surprise. "From the royal palace?"
He nodded. "Yes. Princess Ines sent them to me."
Cecilia tilted her head, studying him with faint amusement. "And you’re asking...?"
"About the dress code," Noah said simply. "I’m assuming showing up in my training clothes wouldn’t exactly be appreciated."
Cecilia’s lips quirked into a half-smile. She walked back towards him, her gaze sweeping over him from head to toe with a faintly appraising look.
"You’re right. You’d be escorted out before you made it past the second corridor."
Noah smirked. "So I take it I’ll need something more appropriate?"
"Definitely," she said, crossing her arms. "The Winter Ball is the biggest event of the year. Every noble in Camelot will be there. That includes the King, the Princess, and quite possibly the entire Council."
He groaned softly. "Just what I needed, even more nobles."
She laughed at that, the sound warm and genuine. "Consider it another battlefield to conquer."
He tilted his head. "And what should I wear to that kind of battlefield?"
Cecilia tapped her chin thoughtfully, pretending to consider. "Hmm. A cloak of arrogance and a mask of false humility might fit right in."
Noah gave her a flat look, and she grinned. "Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you don’t embarrass either of us."
"Meaning?" he asked suspiciously.
"Meaning," she said with mock exasperation, "I’ll send someone tomorrow with a proper suit for you. Tailored to fit. You’ll look the part of a respectable hero, even if you don’t feel like one."
Noah chuckled under his breath. "You make it sound like I don’t have a choice."
"You don’t," Cecilia replied with a smirk. "Now, go get some rest. You’ll need it. The palace is far more dangerous than any monolith you’ve faced."
Noah raised an eyebrow. "Is that supposed to be comforting?"
"Not in the slightest," she said lightly, and turned towards the exit again.
He watched her go, her footsteps fading into the corridor beyond.
For a moment, the training hall was silent.
Noah looked down at his hand, flexing his fingers. The faintest smile appeared on his face.
’Misdirection, huh?’
That, he could do.
After closing the door of the training hall, Noah walked back towards the center of the hall.
He exhaled, then sent a wave of mana deep into his soul.
His shadows stirred in response, detaching from within him like dark smoke given form.
One by one, they coalesced into humanoid silhouettes, their outlines rippling, until he was surrounded.
Noah rolled his shoulders, looking around at the gathered shadows.
"Alright," he muttered, his lips curling into a faint grin. "Let’s see how much I’ve learned."
He raised a hand, then flicked his wrist forward.
Instantly, the shadows lunged, closing in from every direction.