The classroom buzzed with low conversation until the door opened.
Professor Trinity stood tall and composed at the center of the platform. Her chestnut brown hair was tied into a neat, high ponytail, a few loose strands framing her calm features. Her eyes, deep brown, swept across the students like a silent judge.
The room fell quiet instantly.
She unrolled a scroll on the desk with a crisp snap.
"Your first official trial will be held exactly one week from today."
The air grew heavier. Noah sat up a little straighter.
"You will be taken to a restricted zone just outside the academy walls. The area will be magically sealed, and movement will be fully monitored."
Several students exchanged glances.
"Each of you will be given one of these." She held up a thin silver bracelet for all to see. "One bracelet equals one point. If someone takes yours, you lose it. If you collect more, your score increases."
Tension rippled through the room.
"You'll be competing against each other for a total of three hours. You can form teams, go solo—do whatever you want."
"Even if you lose your bracelet, you're not out. You can still fight, take someone else's, and come back into the game."
She let the silence settle before continuing.
"This isn't about brute strength. This is about pressure, strategy, positioning. You'll need more than magic to survive this test."
Her voice stayed calm and measured—like someone stating facts, not giving warnings.
"Only the top ten will receive special merits. Use the time you have wisely."
With that, she rolled the scroll shut, gave a final look to the class, and turned to leave—long coat swaying behind her with each step.
The sky had already begun to darken.
Warm tones of orange and red bled across the academy's western walls as the sun dipped below the treetops. The training sector, though mostly quiet at this hour, still flickered with occasional lights—specifically from one of the isolated combat rooms lined with transparent crystal walls.
Inside, Noah stood alone.
His chest heaved as he exhaled, katana in hand, shirt long discarded and tossed in a pile near the bench. His torso was slick with sweat, his black hair damp and falling slightly over his eyes.
In front of him, a new wave of illusionary monsters shimmered into existence.
Without hesitation, he surged forward.
The simulated beasts growled—two wolves with fangs of mist, a serpent formed from flame, and a knight-shaped figure of condensed mana. None of them were real, but their strikes were solid, and their forms reacted like physical bodies.
Noah moved through them with calculated fury.
Each slash of Kagetsume was clean, smooth, enhanced by the raw mana surging through his limbs. Every pivot of his foot, every shift of his shoulders spoke of practiced effort. But his breaths were growing louder. His steps, just slightly slower.
He had been at it for five hours.
Outside the glass, a few curious students from other classes had stopped to watch.
Some stood whispering near the entrance, others peered in from the walkways above. The glow of the training room flickered like a stage—one with a lone performer who refused to quit.
Inside, Noah pressed on.
He sliced through the last wolf and staggered back, panting. Another wave materialized.
He didn't hesitate.
'Again.'
"Is he still going?"
"Dude, it's been hours—he hasn't stopped once."
"Class 1 people are nuts…"
The voices echoed softly through the corridor.
Lys Everin, senior student of Class 1, walked calmly down the dimly lit path toward the dormitories. Her long uniform coat trailed behind her with quiet grace, her steps light but steady. She had just wrapped up her own training for the day, heading back for a well-earned shower and rest.
Until she heard the murmurs.
Normally, she would've ignored them.
But something about the tone—equal parts disbelief and awe—caught her attention.
She slowed her pace.
A cluster of students from Class 3, 6, and 7 stood near one of the upper walkways, peering through the clear crystal wall into one of the private combat rooms.
Lys tilted her head.
She stepped closer, weaving through the scattered onlookers, until she saw what had gathered so much attention.
Inside the chamber, shirtless, dripping sweat, and visibly exhausted, stood a boy.
Black hair—messy, half-stuck to his face. Lean muscle rippling beneath pale skin. Navy-blue katana gripped tightly in his hand, the edge still glowing faintly with residual mana.
She recognized him instantly.
'He's the guy I helped during the entrance ceremony.'
She hadn't spoken to him since. But there he was now—surrounded by fading illusions from the latest wave—arms hanging low, shoulders trembling.
A new wave spawned before him.
He tried to raise the blade again.
Tried to move.
But his legs finally gave in.
And with a heavy thud, he collapsed backwards, landing flat on the training room floor, limbs spread wide in the shape of a star—gasping for air, eyes half-closed.
Lys's brows lifted slightly.
Then she turned and walked toward the side entrance, where the trainers and support staff normally entered.
Lys entered the training chamber through the side access, where instructors or senior students were permitted during after-hours.
The door sealed behind her with a soft hiss.
Inside, the heat hit her instantly—dense with sweat and mana residue. The air shimmered faintly where the illusions had just faded.
Noah still lay on the ground, arms splayed out like a fallen star, chest rising and falling rapidly.
She walked over to the small rest table on the side of the room. As expected, it held freshly replenished supplies: towels, protein bars, and chilled bottles of water—courtesy of the academy's daily restock system for all active training rooms.
She grabbed a towel and a bottle of water, then approached the boy.
He didn't move until her shadow fell across his face.
Slowly, he blinked up at her—still catching his breath.
Lys knelt down beside him, her voice light but genuine.
"Here. You must be exhausted."
She offered the towel and water without ceremony.
Noah pushed himself up slowly, propping himself on one elbow. His hair was damp and clinging to his forehead, and there were faint red mana marks tracing along his shoulder and ribs.
He accepted both items with a nod.
"Oh… thanks. You didn't have to."
Lys tilted her head slightly, studying him.
"Are you okay? There's no need to push yourself this hard the first week."
Noah uncapped the bottle and took a long drink before answering.
"There's a test coming. I want to be ready for it."
Lys sat back on her heels, observing him quietly as he wiped the sweat from his face.
Noah exhaled slowly after finishing the water, still catching his breath.
His muscles ached, his limbs felt like lead—but his expression was calm, focused.
Lys rested her arms on her knees, sitting in a relaxed squat beside him.
"You know…" she began, her tone thoughtful. "This is the first time I've seen someone train this hard outside of exams."
Noah glanced at her.
"Really?"
She nodded.
"Most people burn out quick. They overdo it once, then never come back. But you've been in here for hours."
He smirked faintly, still drying his face with the towel.
"Guess I'm just too stubborn."
Lys chuckled softly.
"Or too determined."
She tilted her head, her gaze lingering on him a moment longer.
'He's different from the others. Focused. Intense. Maybe even reckless… but not aimless.'
Then another thought crossed her mind.
'He reminds me of… me.'
A long silence followed.
Not uncomfortable—just quiet. The kind of silence between two people who don't feel the need to fill the air with empty words.
Noah finally stood, slower than usual, his towel now draped over his shoulders and Kagetsume resting against his back. His breathing had steadied, though the fatigue still clung to every movement.
Lys rose with him, brushing off her knees.
"Thanks for the water," he said quietly. "And for not lecturing me too much."
She offered a small smile.
"Don't mention it. Just don't die before the real test starts, alright?"
Noah gave a dry chuckle.
"I'll try."
She turned to leave, but paused at the threshold of the chamber.
Without turning around, she added:
"You'll do well. I can tell."
Then she stepped through the door and disappeared into the hallway beyond.
Noah stood in place for a moment, alone again, watching the fading glow of the crystal panels.
He rolled his shoulders, stretched one arm, then glanced toward the control panel that reset the wave generator.
His hand hovered over the switch.
He hesitated.
Then pulled it back.
"That's enough for today."
He picked up his shirt from the floor, threw it over his shoulder, and walked out in silence.