A new day of training had begun. The wind gently rustled the delicate leaves of the trees surrounding Damian and Hundred's training field. Even though it was only around 10 a.m., the sun was already blazing, but as always, the two boys started their routine with laps around the field.
At first, Damian and Hundred ran with full energy, but the heat quickly wore them down. After completing fifty laps, Hundred hit his limit and asked for a break.
Completely exhausted, the two friends dragged themselves toward the shade of the nearby trees to rest. From where they chose to sit they had a partial view of the street, a spot they liked because they could watch people passing by, going about their daily lives. Most of the time they found more fun in cracking jokes about how people looked.
In that quiet moment, Hundred took the chance to finally bring up the surprise Damian had wanted to show him earlier that morning.
"Ahh yeah! I was going to show you after the run. It's a new technique I learned yesterday… but I still don't have full control over it."
"A new technique, just like that?" Hundred replied with a doubtful tone, sounding unimpressed, almost as if he wasn't really surprised or particularly excited about the big reveal.
After you left yesterday, I stayed at the training field for a while, practicing with the wind strikes. And then I thought to myself… maybe it's time I try to push past my limits.
So I gave everything I had into the move I was working on. But it didn't turn out exactly the way I imagined. The wind currents started spinning… and ended up creating a whirlwind.
But exhaustion had forced him to return home, and from that moment on, he spent hours searching for a way to maintain the flow of wind for longer. And now, he believed he had found the answer.
Damian rose to his feet and made his way toward the open clearing of the field. Hundred followed, curiosity in his eyes and a hint of uncertainty in his steps.
"Hundred," Damian said, his tone calm but serious, "I'd recommend stepping back a little... just in case something goes wrong."
"Alright," Hundred replied, nodding without hesitation.
With slow, deliberate movements, Damian raised his hands, shaping the air with graceful gestures. The response was almost immediate. The leaves on the trees began to stir violently, some torn free and carried into the sky. Dust lifted from the earth, pulled into the swirling motion, all converging into a single point that spun with rhythmic force, like a dance choreographed by nature itself.
A strange sensation washed over Hundred. From where he stood, he could feel Damian's power pulsing through the air. The wind grew fiercer with every passing second. His eyes widened in disbelief.
How could this be happening?
For the first time, he was truly stunned by his friend's abilities. But what shook him more than the power itself was the sheer pace at which Damian had grown. It was as if, overnight, he had taken three steps ahead, massive leaps that left Hundred standing still.
He glanced at Damian once more, and in that fleeting moment, it became undeniably clear:That boy was anything but ordinary.
"So," Damian asked, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips, "what did you think, Hundred? You think it's worth showing during the admission test?"
"Man, I... I honestly don't even know what to say," Hundred replied in a calm tone, still stunned by what he had just witnessed."That was incredible."
"If you use that ability," he continued, "they'll admit you on the spot. No doubt."
"Fantastic," Damian said, his eyes glowing with excitement. "All our training is finally paying off. I can already feel us inside Le Château Bridgette. With your talent for weapons and my magic... no one will be able to defeat us.
"Yeah, man... now I just need to level up," Hundred said with a laugh. "And honestly, I wouldn't call my little wooden weapon tricks any kind of real weapon talent."
"What do you mean?" Damian asked. "I train with swords and spears just like you do, and I still don't come close to your skill. I've tried copying your moves so many times, but mine don't even compare."
"It's like I told you before," Damian said calmly. "You need someone more experienced to compare your movements with. Then you'll see, you're stronger than you think."
"Stop trying to flatter me... I'm turning red here," Hundred muttered, glancing away and trying to hide his face.
...
"Alright then. time to get back to training!" Hundred declared, puffing out his chest as if to mask his embarrassment. "And we're not stopping until I make it into the top ten weapon masters in the country!"
"That's it!!" Damian replied with a proud grin. "Now that's the spirit, Hundred!"
With their spirits renewed, the boys dove back into training. Silence became the only sound for the next few hours, as both were too focused to speak. As time passed, the color of the sky shifted from a bright blue to a reddish-orange. It was around 5 p.m., the usual hour when Hundred would accompany Damian to the bridge in District 14, the crossing that divided the noble side of the city from the quarters where commoners and those of little fortune lived.
Normally, the boys would chat endlessly during their walk, but that day, Hundred was quieter than usual. He couldn't stop thinking about what he could do to improve, to reach the level Damian had already attained. On the other hand, Damian was worried about the scolding he'd get for leaving home so early without saying goodbye.
As they reached the bridge, Damian stepped forward and bid his friend farewell. Hundred did the same, and then they parted ways.
Today was exhausting. Damian is always ahead, and I'm the one who has to catch up, Hundred thought. I need to surprise him too. What can I do to become stronger?
These questions lingered in his mind as he walked home. His path led through the main street, which was still busy with merchants and passersby, though most shops were already closing. At one point, the road became blocked with carts and animals, narrowing the space so much that Hundred decided to take a quieter route. It wasn't as well lit, but it would save him some time.
The street was narrow and a little eerie, but Hundred didn't fear dark places—in fact, he rather liked how peaceful it was.
I'd like to live somewhere like this, he thought briefly.
Nearing the end of the street, which reconnected to the main avenue, Hundred caught a glimpse of a red-haired girl on the opposite side, well-dressed, and clearly not from this neighborhood. She looked about sixteen to eighteen years old and was being pulled into an alley by a middle-aged man.
At first, Hundred thought it might just be a father heading home with his daughter. But then, The girl's cries pierced the silence, His heart pounded. And His legs froze. from the distance, he heard the girl's desperate cries for help.
"Hmmf. Not my problem," he muttered. Maybe she's just being scolded. Maybe she's his young wife, and it's just a private argument. He didn't want to play the hero and end up interfering in a situation that wasn't his business.
"What if it's a trap? What if I get hurt? What if I make things worse?
He kept trying to convince himself to leave. but the girl's cries echoed through the empty street, and it didn't look like anyone else was coming.
"Alright, here we go!" Hundred said, sprinting toward the alley.
When he reached the alley, there was no sign of the girl, or the man who had been with her. He kept running, heart pounding, stepping carefully into the narrow space ahead. Not long after, he heard sounds of a struggle nearby.
Along the way, he spotted a long iron rod on the ground. He picked it up without hesitation, just in case it was an ambush or the guy was armed."I can't waste time," he thought.
A few steps later, he turned right into the tightest part of the alley and found them.
"Hey! What's going on here?" Hundred called out, raising his voice to get their attention. He was still catching his breath. He hadn't run far, but the intense training earlier had worn him out, and he hadn't eaten anything since he left home.
"Kid, this has nothing to do with you," the man said, pointing a dagger at him. "Walk away if you want to live."
Hundred quickly glanced at the girl on the ground. She looked like she'd just been tied up, or was about to be. Her clothes were dusty, and ropes were scattered around her. This was clearly a kidnapping. And if that was true, the man might not be alone.
He was scared. He didn't show it, but his hands were shaking. That dagger could kill him.
Then he remembered something Damian said during their training that morning:"Maybe all you need is to face someone to prove your skills. You'll see you're stronger than you think."
That memory sparked something in him. A rush of courage, mixed with stubborn pride.
"I'm not going anywhere," he said firmly, standing his ground.
The kidnapper started walking toward him, slowly, like a predator hunting its prey. Hundred could feel the pressure building. One wrong move could be the end.
The alley grew darker as the last light faded.Everything went silent.
The man struck first, a fast vertical slash. Hundred dodged, then blocked a sideways strike. He countered, landing a hit in the man's stomach. But it barely did anything. The man raised his blade again.
Hundred was trapped, too close to move sideways. He stepped back just in time, and the blade barely missed, slicing his lip. Blood ran down his chin.
Still dizzy from the blow, he didn't see the sand until it hit his face.
His vision went black.
And then. . . pain.
He felt the dagger stab into his stomach. He collapsed, screaming in pain.
The man kicked him hard, again and again. Hundred curled up, trying to protect himself.
Then, he heard voices.
Two knights appeared at the end of the alley.
For a second they had heard the girl's screams, and they had also gone towards him but suddenly they had stopped, so it took them a little while to find her.
They rushed in and cornered the attacker. If they had arrived just a little later… it might have been too late.
A few minutes passed. After the knights had tied up the criminal and the girl had explained what had happened, she asked for a moment to go check on Hundred, who was still sitting wounded on the ground.
She walked toward him, and though his vision was still blurry, Hundred could make out her figure approaching. As she neared, he noticed her hands glowing with a soft green light. She raised them gently toward his wound.
"Thank you so much," she said, her voice soft and melodic, almost like a singer's. "If it weren't for you, who knows where that man might have taken me... I'm really, really grateful."
Hundred couldn't speak. His stomach still burned with pain.
"Don't worry," she added with a gentle smile. "I'm going to heal your wounds."
A warmth spread across his body as her magic took effect. Within minutes, the pain was gone, as if he had never been stabbed in the first place. She had used healing magic and it had worked.
She handed him a small cloth soaked with water. After washing his face, Hundred's vision cleared, and that's when he truly saw her.
She was beautiful.
"Thank you for helping me," the girl said, smiling sweetly. "You're really brave. I mean it, thank you."
"And… thank you for healing me," Hundred replied, a bit embarrassed by how pretty she was.
Then one of the knights approached, shaking his head. "Kid, you're lucky we showed up when we did. You could've died today. Next time something like this happens, don't dive headfirst into danger. Call us, we're here for a reason. Don't go playing hero, understood?"
"Yes, sir. I'll remember that," Hundred answered respectfully.
"You'd better," the knight grunted. "Now, both of you need to come with us. We'll take your statements at headquarters and figure out the proper punishment for that bastard."
"No problem, sir," the girl said calmly. "We'll be happy to help."