The sky above the training fields of Asterblume was a hard, blazing blue. Sunlight streamed down through a lattice of glowing crystal panels overhead—runic shields that flickered faintly as they absorbed heat and stabilized the battlefield below.
This wasn't just any field.
This was Combat Sector 3, one of the official tournament prep zones: fully equipped, regulated by staff mages, and outfitted with training dummies that moved, dodged, blocked, and counterattacked like real opponents—except without the part where they stopped when you cried for help.
Today was supposed to be "light sparring."
It didn't feel like it.
CLANG.
Yuxin's shadow whip slammed against the moving dummy's side—and slid off its reinforced armor plating with a snap that echoed across the field.
She cursed under her breath and leapt back, her shadows recoiling like a struck serpent.
"It adapted again. What the hell."
To her left, Blanche ducked under a sweeping mechanical arm, her braid whipping behind her as she spun intod a counter kick that barely pushed the dummy off balance.
"They're adjusting faster than I expected."
"Oh, you think?" Yuxin snapped, barely avoiding another strike.
Behind them, Ruka stood frozen, clutching her staff with both hands, panic flickering in her wide eyes as her barrier shattered from the last hit.
"I—I can't summon Muir properly—it's resisting my command—!"
"Ruka, move!" Yuxin barked.
Too late.
The dummy lunged, and its blunt training blade was already arcing toward her. But before it could land—
THRUM.
A wall of vine-like light erupted in front of Ruka, catching the strike and dispersing the energy harmlessly.
Vila stepped between them, eyes glowing faintly, her hand still raised in that signature dry, precise spellcasting posture. Her expression didn't even change.
"Structural interference neutralized," she said. "You're welcome."
Ruka gave a shaky breath.
"T-Thanks…"
"Don't thank her yet," Yuxin growled, shadows coiling behind her. "We're getting shredded out here."
They regrouped, just barely avoiding another barrage of hits. The four dummies—one for each of them—had switched from solo tracking to synchronized targeting. Their tactics had updated. Again.
"They're mimicking a real team," Blanche muttered, adjusting her stance.
"Well that's great," Yuxin spat. "We can't even mimic ourselves."
The four of them stood in a loose square formation. All breathing hard. All bruised. Vila's sleeve was torn. Ruka's mana signature was flickering. Yuxin's temper was barely on a leash. Even Blanche—composed Blanche—was biting her lower lip.
"Alright," Blanche said firmly. "We try again. Vila, take aggro on Dummy 3. I'll handle 1. Yuxin, you support Ruka—she needs cover to channel—"
"Why am I support?" Yuxin snapped.
"Because if Ruka goes down, we have no sustain!"
"Then maybe Ruka shouldn't go down in the first place—!"
"I—I'm trying!!" Ruka cried, voice cracking.
Blanche shut her eyes for half a second. Counted to one. Then two.
"Enough. Formation. We move on my mark."
"This isn't gonna work," Yuxin muttered under her breath, but didn't back away.
They all faced forward again.
The dummies stood at the other end of the field, humming with mana, blades at the ready. One tilted its head—as if mocking them.
Blanche stepped forward.
"Ready—"
"No," Yuxin interrupted, her voice low.
"What?"
"They're not gonna wait for us to be ready."
She was right.
The dummies charged.
"Shit—MOVE!"
Everything turned chaotic. Again.
Blanche went in first, fists glowing with Luminara's light, her movements precise and sharp. She struck Dummy 1 clean in the shoulder, twisting her body into a follow-up blow—
But Dummy 2 was already there, intercepting her strike mid-motion.
"They're intercepting combos now—!"
Yuxin's shadows darted around Dummy 3, trying to pin its legs—but it launched into the air and slammed down, breaking the ground around her. She cursed and rolled back, breathing hard.
Vila had successfully pushed back Dummy 4 with a controlled elemental blast, but when she turned to check on Ruka, she was too late—
CRACK.
Ruka was sent flying by a shield bash. Her small frame slammed into the safety barrier, sliding down with a weak gasp.
"Ruka!!"
Blanche turned, instincts screaming to retreat, but another strike slammed her side. She fell to one knee, coughing.
"Not again..."
Yuxin tried to dash toward Ruka, but a blade caught her leg. She stumbled, shadows flaring in a spiral of rage—but there was no space, no backup, no cover.
"DAMN IT—!"
The dummies pulled back.
A long buzz rang through the field.
Simulation failed.
Team eliminated.
There was a pause.
Then silence.
Only the sound of heavy breathing.
Vila stood upright, uninjured but frowning.
Blanche got back to her feet, chest heaving.
Ruka was still sitting by the wall, trying not to cry.
Yuxin sat in the dirt, glaring up at the sky like it had personally insulted her.
"...We suck," Yuxin muttered.
Blanche dusted herself off.
"We're uncoordinated."
"That's a fancy word for suck."
Ruka hugged her knees.
"Sorry... I can't keep up…"
Blanche shook her head.
"It's not about any one person. It's about timing. Awareness. Trust."
Vila looked up.
"We lack combat synergy. This is predictable."
Yuxin groaned and flopped backwards onto the grass.
"Great. We'll die in the first round of the tournament. Maybe I'll pretend to sprain my ankle."
"You don't get to quit now," Blanche said.
"Watch me."
"No," Vila said plainly.
"This isn't a democracy."
"It was never one," Blanche muttered.
They sat in silence for a while.
Above them, the sky started to dim, the artificial sunlight fading into soft mana-glow.
The dummies powered down.
Blanche looked around at the team—the bruises, the scuffs, the scattered pride.
"...We'll fix it," she said softly. "We have to."
Yuxin didn't argue this time.
Ruka nodded slowly.
Vila simply said:
"I will require soup after this."
Yuxin groaned.
"Fine. First, soup. Then, strategy."
***
The academy infirmary wasn't exactly cozy, but at least it was quiet.
White light filtered through tinted crystal windows, giving the whole room a soft blue hue. Healing sigils pulsed faintly on the walls, and the faint scent of herbal balm hung in the air like a lazy fog.
Four beds.
Four students sprawled out like freshly roadkilled wildlife.
Yuxin lay sideways on the bed closest to the door, one leg propped up, her arm wrapped in enchanted bandages that glowed every few seconds. Her expression was somewhere between done and don't speak to me unless you want to be hexed.
Blanche sat upright, arms crossed, a few scratches still visible on her cheek and shoulder. Her posture, as always, remained weirdly regal—even while bandaged.
Ruka sat at the edge of her own bed, fiddling with the hem of her skirt. Her knee was scraped, but she looked more emotionally bruised than anything.
Vila stood near the window, one sleeve removed as an auto-stitch spell slowly repaired a tear across her shoulder. She looked fine. Too fine.
And in the middle of it all, dancing between them with glowing salves and gum in her mouth—
"Alright, my little disaster squad," chirped Laura, the academy nurse-on-duty-slash.
"Y'all got your asses handed to you by training dummies? For real?"
She blew a bubble. Popped it. Didn't blink.
"Don't feel bad tho~ I saw a council kid cry in here last week 'cause he got smacked by a mannequin with one leg."
Yuxin muttered.
"Why is that comforting."
"'Cause pain's universal, babe."
Laura winked, then smacked a bandage on Yuxin's ankle like she was patching drywall.
"There ya go, shadow girl. Don't walk too hard or whatever. Go easy on the world domination thing."
Yuxin winced.
"I wasn't planning on moving at all, thanks."
Laura turned to Blanche.
"Alright, Miss Shiny Fancy Light Powers. You got some cracked ribs, but your body's freakin' weird—healed like 60% while I was blinkin'. Drink more water."
"...I do," Blanche said politely.
"Do it more."
Ruka got a pat on the head. Vila got handed a potion with a sticky note that said "Soup 2.0 – not actually soup, don't drink unless broken."
Then Laura grabbed her clipboard, gave them a peace sign, and slid toward the door like a casual storm.
"Gotta go restock. No dying while I'm gone, kay? Or I'm writing all your names in glitter pen on the 'Clown Wall' out front. Muah~!"
And with a pop of her gum and a flick of her braid, she was gone.
The door clicked shut.
Silence settled for two seconds.
Then—
"Okay," Yuxin muttered, rubbing her temples, "who's bright idea was it to charge in with no coordination and zero plan?"
"That would be you," Blanche said calmly.
"Excuse me?"
"You refused to follow the formation call."
"Because your formation was stupid."
"It was functional."
"It was doomed. Ruka was barely standing. Vila thought we were in a soup line. I was dying."
"Incorrect," Vila interrupted from the corner, still facing the window.
"I was aiming for optimal angle positioning. Also, don't bring soup into this."
"You joined this tournament for soup," Yuxin snapped, turning toward her.
"I'm allowed to bring soup into everything."
"The soup was a strategic motivator. Not a conversational anchor."
"You're a conversational anchor."
Ruka raised her hands slightly.
"Um… maybe we shouldn't yell? It's… kinda echoey in here…"
No one listened.
Blanche stood up, wincing slightly, but her voice was still as controlled as ever.
"We're a mess. We have three days before the official bracket goes public and we still don't have synergy. If we can't act like a team, we'll be eliminated in round one."
"Finally," Yuxin muttered. "Something we agree on."
"I was not the problem," Vila added, as if reading from a personal manifesto.
"You never think you're the problem," Yuxin snapped.
"Because I am not."
"Okay okay okay—!" Ruka flailed her arms. "Let's just—maybe—we can figure out what went wrong and fix it? Yelling won't heal our bruises faster."
She smiled nervously. Her eyes twitched like she was preparing to cry or sneeze. No one could tell.
Blanche sighed, sitting back down.
"She's right. The problem is deeper than one mistake. We don't have roles, we don't have timing, and none of us trust each other enough to follow through when the pressure hits."
Yuxin rolled her eyes.
"You can't spell 'team' without 'meh'."
"That is not how letters work," Vila said.
"It is in my version."
"...You have your own language?" Ruka asked, a bit scared.
"No," Yuxin said. Then under her breath, "Not yet."
They all slumped for a moment. The silence stretched.
Even Vila seemed mildly defeated. Not visibly, of course. But her shoulders had dropped like… 2%.
Yuxin groaned into her hands.
"...Soup."
Blanche raised a brow.
"Excuse me?"
"I cannot believe this entire spiral started because someone wanted free soup."
"Do not—" Vila said quickly.
"—bring up the soup?" Yuxin grinned evilly. "Why? It's your life purpose now."
"The soup is irrelevant to our current strategic failure."
"I live to be irrelevant. Let's go."
Ruka finally giggled, softly.
Blanche smiled, faint.
Even Vila let out a single breath that may or may not have been a sigh of surrender.
Yuxin stretched her arm above her head.
"Fine. Let's train again tomorrow. New strategy. I call dibs on doing whatever I want."
"You always do that," Blanche replied.
"Exactly. It's tradition."
They sat together in the strange, temporary peace of shared bruises, aching limbs, and mutual frustration. But somewhere, underneath the snark and sarcasm…
It felt a little more like a team.
Just a little.