System, please just shut up

Kael didn't even realize he'd taken a step forward, ready to press the issue with the infuriating girl, until the sharp sound of boots on stone echoed behind him.

Not one pair—two.

He and the girl turned at the same time, and there stood Theo and Jarik, both looking like they'd just tracked a rogue beast into the city, their expressions a mix of concern, amusement and exasperation.

Theo blinked once, taking in the scene—Kael, swordless, glaring at a hooded figure casually holding his practice weapon.

Then he raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement warring with his underlying seriousness. "...Did you seriously get mugged by a girl in a cloak?"

Jarik crossed his arms, a deep frown settling on his face. "She took your sword?"

"Technically—" Kael started, trying to explain the bizarre, mocking chase, but he was immediately cut off.

"That's theft," Jarik said sharply, already stepping forward, his posture shifting into something defensive and protective. "And during a major public festival? That's asking for trouble, kid."

The girl just rolled her eyes, her earlier mirth undiminished. "Wow, okay, let's all breathe. We were just having fun, no need to get so serious about it? Like you said It's a festival, lighten up."

"You lured him into an alley," Theo said mildly, though there was a sudden weight behind his words now, a shift from casual observation to subtle authority. "That's not exactly casual mischief. That's a textbook ambush."

"Look, no harm was done," the girl insisted, spreading her hands innocently. "It was just a joke. You people are really allergic to fun, huh? Especially you, Knight boy."

But before anyone could say anything else, a new voice cut through the tense air, smooth and clear, yet utterly commanding. "There's no need for that."

It was calm and collected, yet possessed an undeniable undercurrent of steel.

They all turned sharply, their heads snapping towards the alley's mouth.

A woman stood there, bathed in the flickering light of the single mana-lamp.

Older, perhaps in her mid-thirties, though there was something timeless in her poise, a quiet confidence that transcended age.

She wore armor—not ceremonial plate, but sleek, practical battle-wear: black-dyed, reinforced segments of a dark, resilient material, articulated at the joints with intricate patterns of obsidian thread visible between the plates.

Her presence was effortless but undeniably commanding, like the sudden, absolute silence before a thunderstorm. Her face was beautiful, but not delicate. More sculpted—sharp, intelligent eyes, slightly parted lips, her dark hair drawn back in a braid that looked strong enough to whip through stone.

She was passive, unmoving... but not soft. Not in the slightest.

The girl in the cloak winced, her mischievous grin faltering for the first time. "Ohh, common."

Kael's brows rose slightly.

What's this about?

The sudden arrival of this authoritative figure had changed the entire dynamic.

The woman walked forward, her reinforced boots making the softest sound against the worn stone, her expression unreadable as she looked directly at the cloaked girl.

"I thought we agreed," she said quietly, her voice still calm, but now laced with a subtle, unmistakable warning, "no more trouble until at least after the festival."

The girl shrugged innocently, attempting to regain her composure. "But I didn't cause any trouble. We were just playing. Technically."

"Technically," the woman echoed, the single word loaded with meaning.

There was no anger in her voice, but there was an immense, unspoken weight in the pause that followed, a pressure that seemed to settle over the entire alley.

Kael, Theo, and Jarik stood frozen, rooted to the spot.

The woman's mere presence had shifted the entire feel of the alley. It felt less like a street squabble between youths, and more like a solemn tribunal had just convened.

"Is this your idea of restraint?" the woman continued, giving the girl a look Kael couldn't decode—a mixture of exasperation, irritation, and perhaps something akin to reluctant fondness.

The girl looked down at her feet for a moment, then up again with a fleeting, defiant grin. "You said I needed to be more creative. I'm just... diversifying my training."

"I also said no engagements outside official channels, especially not with Academy personnel." The woman's gaze finally shifted, looking directly toward Kael and the others.

Kael instinctively straightened, his posture snapping to attention.

Even Jarik, who rarely looked rattled by authority, shifted subtly, his arms uncrossing, his usual bravado temporarily muted.

The woman gave them a nod—measured, acknowledging their presence and their role in the altercation—but didn't speak immediately.

Then Jarik's eyes widened slightly, a flash of recognition.

His voice dropped to a low, urgent whisper as he leaned toward Kael and Theo. "Uhm... Guys… that's Commander Nyra Voss. Head of the city guard."

Kael's head snapped toward him, his mind reeling.

What? City guards?

That wasn't a minor figure at all.

Theo's eyes flicked back to the cloaked girl, then to the unmoving, formidable woman, his whisper equally stunned. "So... this kid is what? Her sidekick? Her apprentice?"

Kael blinked, now staring at the girl as if seeing her for the first time.

She, oblivious or uncaring of their realization, gave him a cheerful little wave, as if she hadn't literally stolen his sword seconds ago and led him on a frantic chase.

Nyra finally spoke again, her voice calm but imbued with an undeniable, authoritative weight. "She's under my supervision. This incident won't be repeated." Then, with a softer note, almost courteously, she added, "Apologies on her behalf. She can be... overzealous in her 'training methods'."

The girl didn't deny it.

She just stood there, that same mischievous grin still on her face, seemingly immune to the gravity of her guardian's presence.

"Thank you for your restraint," Nyra said, giving Kael and the others a formal nod, dismissing them.

Jarik opened his mouth, clearly intending to say something, then clearly thought better of it, biting back whatever quip he had.

Theo, arms still crossed, just gave a casual, almost imperceptible shrug, acknowledging the strange, unexpected end to the chase.

Kael stared between the two—the wildly mischievous apprentice and the formidable looking commander—and a single thought echoed in his mind, bewildered:

Just what kind of person plays street thief for fun with that kind of backing?