The students were afraid to approach them… for two very good reasons.
The first—
They didn't want to die at their hands.
The second—
Because the two of them simply… looked like monsters.
Not because they were the strongest.
But because they hadn't stopped when it would have been reasonable to stop.
Kyle lay on the sand, his chest rising and falling violently.
Rolin was sprawled beside him, arms limp, as if they no longer obeyed him.
No one moved.
The students watched…
but they kept their distance.
Sometimes, awe is born from endurance, not power.
Then—
Quick footsteps.
Light.
Aileen.
She ignored the looks, ignored the whispers, and ran toward them with a flask of cold water nearly dripping in her hand.
"Give them some space!" she ordered as she knelt first beside Kyle.
She carefully lifted his head and brought the flask to his lips.
"Drink slowly."
Kyle tried to joke… but what came out sounded more like a broken cough.
"…Are you… an angel?"
"No," she said seriously.
"But I don't feel like cleaning sand off your corpse."
He drank.
The cold water returned a fragment of life to his eyes.
Then she turned to Rolin.
She hesitated—just half a second.
His eyes were open… but he hadn't moved.
"Rolin?"
He blinked slowly.
"…I'm not dead yet."
She exhaled softly and brought the flask closer.
"Slowly."
He tried to raise his hand—
it trembled.
Aileen in steadied the flask for him.
The water touched his cracked lips.
Cold.
Real.
'Hm,' Likath murmured inside him.
'She's nice.'
'Be quiet.'
After a few moments, Rolin forced himself into a sitting position.
He looked at her.
"Thank you."
She shrugged.
"I don't want the class losing two students on the second day."
But the small smile on her face said otherwise.
From a distance—
Selen was watching.
Her gray eyes were calm…
but thoughtful.
Kainos did not interfere.
He was watching too.
Then he spoke, loud enough for all to hear:
"Remember this scene."
A pause.
"Power makes you feared."
A brief glance toward Rolin and Kyle.
"But endurance… makes you respected."
A different kind of silence followed.
Not fear.
Recognition.
Kyle let out a slow breath.
"If he asks for two hundred again… I'm emigrating."
Rolin's lips curved faintly.
"…Pick somewhere with mild weather."
Aileen laughed softly.
And for the first time since the class began—
The air wasn't thick with challenge.
But with something quieter.
The beginning of mutual acknowledgment.
Inside Rolin's chest, however—
There was a strange feeling.
Not pride.
Not relief.
Just a simple realization:
He wasn't the strongest here.
But he was no longer the weakest.
---
A full week passed.
From the outside, Rolin's life looked repetitive.
Disciplined. Predictable.
But inside—
he was changing.
He woke at seven. Quick shower. Black clothes. Training hall.
From eight to ten, combat class.
Learning how to exploit a beast's weak points.
How to lure.
How to conserve strength instead of burning it recklessly.
Every strike was patience.
Every movement, restraint.
From ten until six—Geography and Survival.
Continents. Terrain. Hunting. Ambushes. Preserving food. Crafting tools.
Every lesson felt like a map to survival.
Dinner was simple.
Kyle was always there, sitting beside him. A few words exchanged between bites.
From seven to eight—History and Knowledge.
The world's past.
Its buried secrets.
Then back to his room.
Push-ups. Sit-ups. Squats.
Again.
Again.
Again.
He wasn't just a student.
He was forging himself into something else.
By the end of the week, dark circles formed beneath his eyes.
The next morning, Kainos noticed immediately.
"You're exhausted, Azir."
"I'm fine, Professor Kainos… it was just a difficult week."
Kainos stepped closer, eyes sharp.
"A fighter cannot progress by breaking his body. Combat requires a clear mind and a strong foundation."
Rolin lowered his head briefly.
Still, he gripped his sword.
He wouldn't show weakness.
Kainos sighed.
"No. You're tired."
Rolin froze.
"Take the day off. And give me the names of your other professors."
"…But—"
"You need rest."
"…Professor Ceres. And Professor Latifia."
Kainos' brows tightened.
Something shifted in his expression at Latifia's name.
"I see… that explains certain things."
He looked back at Rolin.
"I'll handle it. Go rest."
The class exchanged confused glances.
Kainos had never granted leave before.
Until now.
---
The following evening, after History class, Latifia approached Rolin shyly.
"Azir… I want to ask you something."
"Of course, Professor."
She handed him a folded letter.
"Please give this to Professor Kainos."
Her green eyes shimmered faintly with nervousness.
Rolin smiled lightly.
"I'll make sure he receives it."
The next day, after combat class, Rolin delivered the letter.
Kainos opened it.
Line by line—
His face turned red.
He leaned back in his chair, staring at the paper as though it contained a spell more dangerous than any beast.
Rolin tried to hide his grin.
"…Professor, your face is very red. It seems the letter had quite an effect."
Kainos coughed.
"Azir. Focus on your training. The contents of this letter are… personal."
Later that afternoon—
Rolin froze behind the corner of a building.
He hadn't meant to spy.
But there they were.
Kainos.
Latifia.
The stern instructor stood awkwardly close to her, carefully placing a red rose behind her ear.
Latifia's cheeks were crimson.
Kainos—usually composed, unshakable—looked almost… human.
She glanced around nervously.
He leaned closer and whispered something Rolin couldn't hear.
Rolin pressed a hand to his mouth to stop himself from laughing.
"…I never thought I'd see Professor Kainos like this."
Inside him, Likath chuckled.
'Even iron melts under the right heat.'
Rolin smirked.
Maybe strength wasn't only about endurance.
Maybe even the sternest warrior carried something fragile within.
And for the first time in days—
Rolin felt genuinely… awake.