A week had passed since the team's mission, and in that ti, they had trained harder than ever. While the others pushed themselves to surpass Grey, he remained indifferent to their efforts, focusing only on his own growth.
During the previous week, Scarlet had spent three days training with Von, convinced that she had grown at least a little stronger. anwhile, Greg had buried himself in studying the scroll as if his life depended on it.
Raze, however, barely cared for training. His magic revolved around copying others, so as long as his opponents were powerful, he too would be powerful.
The one person who could truly claim to have trained relentlessly was Vince. Every single day, after classes, he was found in the training room, exhausting himself in pursuit of strength. His sole ambition was to grow stronger—stronger than anyone. Yet, his progress was frustratingly slow. The only constructs he could summon remained the sa: a tal porcupine, a sword, and a single gauntlet.
Despite this, he refused to give up. He tirelessly battled against the magic-powered constructs designed to simulate real combat, pushing himself to the brink.
Today was no different.
Vince stood in the training room, facing one of the constructs. It was humanoid in shape but lacked features—just a solid mass of tal animated by magic, programd to wield a specific elent in battle.
Moving behind the construct, Vince tapped a circular panel on its back. A chanical whir filled the air as the construct powered up, its blank tal face turning toward him.
To make it fight, I need to make it see
as a threat.
Stepping back, a gleaming tal sword materialized in his grip.
"My magic is weak… embarrassingly weak," Vince muttered, eyes narrowing. "Even though I'm a noble—the son of the captain of a reputable academy—I can't even live up to his reputation."
The construct raised its hand, ice forming and solidifying into a sword. Then, with a burst of speed, it charged.
"And the only way to get stronger…" Vince pivoted sideways, parrying the incoming strike with his tal blade, his feet sliding smoothly across the floor.
"Is to beco versatile like Grey—to beco a powerful magic swordsman!" He roared, lunging forward and swinging horizontally. The construct jumped back just in ti, then retaliated by launching a dozen ice shards at him.
"If I can't defeat you…" He moved swiftly, his sword a blur as he shattered the incoming shards, dodging with precise footwork.
A shard grazed his cheek, drawing blood. He didn't flinch. Instead, he countered with a shard of tal, breaking another approaching projectile.
"Then I'm no different from so weak peasant!"
Pain pricked his skin as more ice shards sliced at him—his face, arms, even his ear. Yet, he remained focused. Sothing was forming in his hands. The magic was taking shape.
The construct, sensing danger, unleashed another barrage, but Vince pressed on, evading as best as he could while molding his magic. His blood painted the floor, his body scread in pain, but finally—
It was done.
The ground beneath him turned to tal. The sword in his hand elongated, reshaping itself into a spear. Then, with a burst of power, he propelled himself forward, the tallic platform beneath his feet launching him like a bullet.
The construct had no ti to react.
The spear drove straight through its head, piercing out the other end. The construct powered down instantly, its magic core extinguished.
Vince collapsed to his knees, panting, sweat dripping from his brow. He turned his gaze to the tal clock in the corner of the room.
"Damn it!" He slamd a fist into the floor. "Five seconds slower than yesterday!"
A slow, mocking clap echoed from behind him.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. The great son of the great Captain of the Lunaria Squad is still a weakling?"
Vince stiffened, his breath hitching. Turning around, his eyes widened in shock as a tall, handso young man stepped forward.
His dark hair nearly covered his face, held back only by a tight bandana. His academy robe billowed slightly as he walked, the emblem of the Lunaria Squad stitched into the fabric.
"Brother?!" Vince gasped.
The young man's expression twisted into a scowl. His fists clenched, teeth grinding in frustration.
"How many tis?" he spat. "How many tis do I have to tell you not to call
brother?"
Vince swallowed. "I… I'm sorry, Dave."
Dave's lips curled into a sneer. "Better." He stepped past Vince, glancing at the training construct before shifting his gaze to the clock. "Even after all these years, you're still this pathetic? Still failing to live up to Captain Amir's na?"
Vince's jaw tightened. "Just because you're a second-year and have a better grasp of tal Magic doesn't an you can look down on ! I… I promise, I will beco stronger!" Vince said and then Dave laughed loudly.
"Probably in a hundred years but for now, you are still a weakling!" Dave said.
"Weakling? You call
a weakling?! I have been making improvents and I'm sure I can stand my ground against you." Vince said and a short laugh eluded Dave's mouth.
"Stand your ground against ? You have beco delusional after spending a month in the academy.
Dave let out a loud, cruel laugh.
His gaze sharpened. "Remind , little brother. I heard your group was assigned a mission recently. But you weren't chosen. Why is that?"
Vince's fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
"I'll tell you why," Dave continued. "Because you're weak. So weak that you were deed useless. Even peasants got chosen over you." He scoffed. "You, a noble, weren't even considered."
"Dave!" Vince roared, anger flaring in his chest.
"What?" Dave smirked. "What are you going to do? What can you do?"
Vince trembled with fury. "I… I want to beat you so badly! And I will!"
Dave snorted. "Oh? Well, I'd love to see you try. Why don't we settle it with a duel?" His lips curled into a sinister grin. "I'll give you the privilege of facing ."
"Fine!" Vince blurted out before he could stop himself. "I challenge you to an official duel—in front of everyone!"
Dave threw his head back and laughed. "Keh keh keh! As you wish." With a final smirk, he turned and strode out of the room. "I'll make sure everything's arranged."
As soon as he was gone, Vince's breath hitched. His stomach sank.
"What have I done?" His voice was barely above a whisper. His hands trembled. "I… I just dug my own grave. Dave is going to bury
alive. Damn it! I said all that in a fit of rage. What the hell am I going to do now?!"
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