"Yes, sir," I said, already standing in front of his desk.
He pulled out his drawer and brought out a red book with the picture of a dagger on its cover.
"Here. I want you to have this," he said, offering the book to . "I know it isn’t much to prepare you for the dungeon tomorrow, but it should at least help you with your dagger movents."
I nodded and took the book from him. After all, I needed all the help I could get and even more.
"Thanks," I said.
"Can I ask sothing of you, sir?" I added, watching his face for any reaction before continuing.
"You can go ahead," he replied.
I nodded again and went on. "Can you also give a book to help with my bow marksmanship?" He arched up his eyebrow.
"I didn’t know you made use of a bow. Can you show it to , please?" he asked.
I swallowed a lump of saliva. When he asked to show him the Star Bow, I knew the risk of what I was asking. If he recognized the Star Bow, he would surely be angry at for taking more than one weapon from the academy weapon room. But this was a risk I was willing to take. Co tomorrow, it was either I kept my secret of the bow or died with it inside the dungeon and that was sothing I was not willing to do after coming this far.
I nodded and then summoned the Star Bow from my system. The bow manifested, looking like it was crafted from midnight itself. Its limbs swept outward in a jagged, elegant arc, each curve shaped like the wing of a bird of prey. The surface was a deep, shimring black, with faint hints of violet and blue that pulsed beneath it like starlight seen through storm clouds. Not painted. Not dyed. As if the cosmos itself had been poured into its core and locked behind the surface. Each end of the bow flared into talon-like spikes, wicked and graceful. The string between them was thin and dark, but not fragile.
"I must say, that’s a nice-looking bow. Must be one of your family heirlooms, right?" I nodded at him.
"Thank the gods he didn’t recognize it," I breathed a sigh of relief. I could feel my racing heart calming down now.
"I think I do have sothing for you that would fit this bow perfectly. Oh, here it is,a guide for a recurve bow," he said after searching for a while. He offered it to . I thanked him and then dismissed the Star Bow and left the classroom, heading for my second class for the day.
------------------------------------------
I was able to make it in ti before the instructor arrived, so I took a seat near the window with Nick sitting close to .
The door shut with a quiet thud as the instructor stepped in, posture straight and presence firm. He didn’t look like a man who tolerated laziness.
"I’m Instructor Darius," he said, voice even and steady not loud, but everyone heard him. "If you’re sitting here thinking combat is all about swinging hard and shouting louder than your opponent, I suggest you leave now before soone dies because of your ignorance."
No one moved.
"Good. That ans I’ve got a class worth shaping."
He took a few steps forward, hands behind his back. His eyes passed over each student like he was reading sothing we hadn’t written down.
"Today’s lesson: Control. Every fight you walk into, you either control it or it controls you. That starts with how you think before you move."
He raised a single finger.
"First Observation. Watch your enemy. Their footing. Their stance. Even their breathing. A fighter gives away more than they know. Most of you are too impatient to notice."
Another finger.
"Second Timing. Don’t waste energy striking the air. Don’t rush. Don’t flinch. Most deaths I’ve seen co from acting one second too soon or one too late."
Third finger.
"Adaptation. No plan survives a real fight. You’ll get hit. Your weapon might break. Your footing might slip. The smart ones adjust. The dead ones hesitate and suffer the consequences of their actions."
He let the last word sit for a mont.
"Fourth Pressure. Apply it. Respond to it. Use it. A real warrior knows how to stay calm when the air’s thick with killing intent. You learn to breathe through it. Think through it. You should learn how to face pressure in battle and also how to put pressure on your own opponents."
He looked around again.
"So of you have strength. So have speed. So have skill. None of that ans anything if you panic when blood’s in the air. This class isn’t about glory. It’s about surviving long enough to earn the right to win a fight."
Then he moved to the front again.
"We’ll be covering stance breakdowns, montum shifts, reading muscle tension, and predicting follow-through. You’ll learn to exploit openings not just in the body, but in the mind as well."
A small pause.
"Any idiot can throw a punch. This class will teach you when not to and when to."
He turned, walking toward the door.
"That’s your first lesson. Rember it. Because the first ti you hesitate, you better hope your opponent doesn’t rember theirs. You are all dismissed for the day."
And with that, he left quiet, efficient, and without looking back to see how the students reacted to his teaching.
Imdiately, the academy bell rang, signaling the end of the lessons for the day.
"Hey, Michael, want to grab sothing to eat with ?" Nick asked as we were picking up our belongings.
"Sorry, I can’t. I have sothing to do first before grabbing sothing for a bite. But enjoy yourself, alright?" I said to him, already heading out of the classroom.
Next stop: the training hall. After all, I had what I needed to prepare myself for tomorrow’s dungeon, and I had to focus on that right now more than anything.
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