The exercise ended and the pressure disappeared.
Several students let themselves fall where they were. Others headed toward the exit with dragging steps. The murmur returned little by little, mixed with heavy breathing.
The courtyard began to empty.
Aku remained standing a few seconds, adjusting his breathing. Then he walked to one side of the field, without hurry. His body had responded well, though the wear was evident in the tension of his shoulders and in the way he released air.
A few ters away, Gerald remained on the ground.
Face up.
His chest rose and fell with difficulty. He had one hand on his stomach and the other resting on the ground, as if he didn’t have strength even to sit up. His glasses were slightly crooked.
"I think..." he murmured between gasps, "I’m going to die here..."
He tried to get up.
He didn’t succeed.
He let his head fall back down.
Bīng Xuě, on the other hand, kept moving.
He had found a free space within the courtyard and executed basic movents, punches in the air, short displacents. His breathing was stable. The previous exercise didn’t seem to have affected him more than as a warm-up.
"No way I’m stopping after warming up," he said, throwing a straight punch. "This is just getting started for ."
He didn’t look at the other two.
It didn’t seem necessary.
Gerald turned his head as best he could.
"Getting started...?" he repeated, his voice broken. "I... I already finished my sports life..."
Aku observed the scene without intervening.
The courtyard kept losing people. The noise dropped. Rest hour had arrived, and most had opted to leave for the cafeteria.
The three of them stayed.
A few minutes later, a slight sound of footsteps approached from the entrance.
Aku turned his head.
Sylvie appeared walking toward them.
This ti she wasn’t floating.
She had adopted human form.
Her appearance fit that of a small girl, short in stature, barely reaching an average adult’s chest. Her blonde hair fell straight to her shoulders, with fine strands that moved with each step. Her green eyes maintained that vivid glow, more intense than a normal person’s.
Her ears, elongated and slightly pointed, protruded between her hair without hiding.
She wore a simple white dress, without excessive adornnts. The fabric was light, with natural fall, fitting just enough not to be uncomfortable. The sleeves were short, and the dress’s edge reached above her knees.
She carried sothing in her hands.
A small set of containers.
She stopped in front of them.
"I didn’t see you in the cafeteria," she said, looking first at Gerald, then at Bīng Xuě. "So I figured you’d still be here."
She left the food on the ground carefully.
"I brought this."
Gerald raised his head as best he could.
His eyes opened wide.
"Food...?"
He sat up halfway, ignoring the pain in his body, and practically dragged himself to the containers.
"I... I love you," he murmured as he opened one.
He didn’t wait.
He started eating.
Fast.
Without pause.
Bīng Xuě stopped a mont, looking at the food. Then he looked at Sylvie.
"I’m not hungry now," he said. "But thanks."
Sylvie left one of the containers to the side.
"Take it later," she responded.
Aku remained standing.
Observing.
"There isn’t any for you," Sylvie added without looking at him.
Her tone was dry.
Aku didn’t respond.
He simply approached and took one of the containers.
Sylvie turned her head imdiately.
"Hey—"
Too late.
Aku had already opened the lid.
The aroma released instantly. Spices, heat, an intense mixture.
He began eating.
Without hurry.
Sylvie stared at him.
"You’re incredible," she murmured.
Gerald, mouth full, looked up.
He looked at Sylvie.
Then at Aku.
Then at Sylvie again.
"Hey..." he said, swallowing quickly. "I also want a servant like that."
Silence.
Sylvie slowly turned her head toward him.
"Pardon?"
Gerald raised his hands, nervous.
"I an... soone who brings food... and—"
"For your information, I’m not anyone’s servant," she cut him off indignantly.
Her expression changed completely.
"And especially not soone like you."
Gerald remained still.
"Okay... okay..."
He returned to the food.
More slowly.
Bīng Xuě resud his training, as if nothing had happened.
Aku kept eating.
Without saying a word.
Without leaving anything.
When they finished eating, rest ca to an end without warning.
The flow of students moved through the hallways again. So still dragged the tiredness from training. Others walked with more energy, comnting on what would co next.
On the tablet, the next destination was already marked:
[Demon Combat Practice]
Aku set off without saying anything. Bīng Xuě followed him without stopping stretching his arms, as if his body remained active from before. Gerald took a few more seconds to stand up, leaning on his legs before adjusting his glasses.
"Okay... I’m alive," he murmured. "That’s already sothing."
They advanced with the rest.
The route wasn’t toward the academy’s open areas. This ti, the directions took them toward a more closed section. Narrower hallways. Less illumination. The blue lines were still present, but were fainter, marking the path instead of completely illuminating it.
The group descended through a series of long ramps.
The air changed.
Denser. Colder.
The walls stopped being smooth in so sections. Reinforced sections appeared, heavy doors integrated into the structure, so with visible wear marks.
Aku observed every detail as they advanced.
They weren’t decorative.
They were functional.
The descent continued until the space opened into a different area.
Dungeons.
Side hallways with cells closed by tal structures. So were empty. Others weren’t.
Figures inside.
Motionless.
Or moving slowly.
Gerald reduced his pace without realizing it.
"...okay," he murmured in a low voice. "I don’t like this so much anymore..."
Bīng Xuě stopped for a second in front of one of the cells, tilting his head as he observed the interior.
"Hmm."
He said nothing more.
Aku kept walking.
There was no reason to stop.
The group advanced through that level until reaching a large door at the end of the hallway. It opened automatically upon detecting their presence.
The space on the other side was wide.
Very wide.
A circular room, with high walls and no windows. The floor was covered by a dark surface, marked by lines and impact zones. There were visible wear marks at several points, superficial cracks, deep marks.
It resembled an arena.
But not an official one.
The atmosphere was more closed. More raw. Without audience, without visible stands, without elents that softened the space.
Everything was focused on the center.
On combat.
The illumination fell directly from above, leaving the edges in shadow.
Gerald stopped upon entering.
He looked around.
At the walls.
At the floor.
At the marks.
He adjusted his glasses.
"...this is pretty sinister," he finally said.
No one responded.
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