Adrian leaned heavily against the stone wall, his breath ragged as he tried to calm the storm of pain swirling in his abdomen. Terrance's kick had knocked the wind out of him, leaving him doubled over, dazed, and struggling to regain his composure. The ache in his side throbbed with each shallow breath, a dull reminder of the blow that had come out of nowhere. His mind raced, but he willed himself to focus on something, anything, to push through the discomfort.
The facilitator who had broken up the altercation approached Adrian, offering a hand to help him up. "You alright, recruit?" His voice was rough but laced with genuine concern.
Adrian winced, placing a hand on his sore side before nodding weakly. "Yeah… I'm fine." The words came out more like a groan, but he forced himself upright, refusing to show weakness. He straightened up and took a deep breath, steadying himself as best he could.
The facilitator gave him a once-over before nodding, satisfied. "Good. You're needed in the combat training session. Let's get moving."
Adrian followed behind, each step a reminder of the lingering pain in his side. The whispers of the other recruits echoed through the hall as they approached the combat room, and though he couldn't make out their exact words, the stares spoke volumes. It wasn't just curiosity—it was judgment. Eyes lingered on him longer than they should have, and Adrian could feel the weight of their silent criticisms.
They think I'm weak, he realized, his stomach twisting with unease. But more than that, his mind kept circling back to Terrance—the son of a baron who had made Adrian's life a living hell since day one. Terrance carried himself with an air of entitlement, as though the world was his to conquer, and anyone weaker was just fodder for his amusement. Adrian knew the moment their paths crossed that Terrance would never make things easy for him.
As they entered the training room, the eyes on Adrian intensified. Whispers hummed louder, rippling through the gathered recruits, anticipation buzzing in the air. Adrian's chest tightened. The tension was palpable, and it only grew heavier as a figure stepped into his path—Terrance Durk, the man himself, smirking as though he had been waiting for this exact moment.
"Well, well," Terrance's voice dripped with contempt, each word calculated to provoke. "Look who it is."
Adrian froze, instinctively taking a step back. He tried to avoid Terrance's gaze, but the challenge in the man's eyes was unmistakable. There would be no walking away from this.
Without a word, Terrance yanked off his glove and threw it at Adrian's feet. The thud of leather hitting the floor silenced the room, the air thick with tension as the recruits watched in eager anticipation.
"He's challenging you to a duel, idiot!" someone shouted from the back of the room, breaking the silence.
Adrian's heart sank. A duel? Now?
The glove lay on the floor before him, its presence inescapable. It wasn't just a discarded piece of clothing—it was a challenge, one that Adrian couldn't refuse without facing serious consequences. To decline a duel would mark him as weak, a coward in the eyes of everyone. And in this world, weakness was unforgivable.
His pulse quickened, and for a brief moment, Adrian considered walking away. But he knew better. Terrance wouldn't let him go, and the crowd wouldn't forget. Swallowing the knot of fear rising in his throat, Adrian bent down and picked up the glove, his movements slow and deliberate.
Terrance's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Good," he sneered. "Let's see what you're made of, weakling."
Adrian moved to the weapon rack, his mind spinning. The duel had become inevitable, but he was unprepared. His body still ached from the earlier assault, and his lack of experience weighed heavily on his mind. He grabbed a wooden sword from the rack, its unfamiliar weight uncomfortable in his hand. Trying to steady his nerves, he took a deep breath, knowing there was no way out now.
The other recruits gathered quickly, forming a ring around the impromptu battlefield. Excitement flickered in their eyes, some whispering among themselves, while others eagerly awaited the outcome. The mood in the room shifted, like the calm before a storm.
Terrance wasted no time. With a smirk, he charged forward, his wooden sword cutting through the air with practiced precision. Adrian barely managed to raise his sword in time to block the first strike, but the force of it rattled his bones, sending shockwaves up his arms.
"Come on, weakling!" Terrance barked, his voice filled with mockery as he unleashed a relentless barrage of strikes. Each one was sharper and faster than the last, and Adrian struggled to keep up. Every block drained him, every parry left him more winded than before.
Terrance's strikes began to land—sharp, precise blows that knocked the breath out of Adrian. The pain was immediate, each hit leaving Adrian gasping for air, bruised and disoriented. His body screamed in protest, but his mind kept him upright. I can't let him win. Not like this.
Desperation clawed at Adrian as he swung his sword, but each of his attacks was easily deflected. Terrance moved with effortless grace, his skill far beyond Adrian's. Every failed strike from Adrian was met with a jeering grin, as though Terrance found joy in the struggle.
"You're pathetic," Terrance growled between strikes. "You don't belong here!"
The taunts bit deep, and Adrian's frustration boiled over, his movements growing more erratic. But every time he swung, Terrance blocked. Every time he tried to strike, Terrance parried with ease. There was no way out. Adrian felt the hopelessness swallowing him whole.
Then, something shifted.
As Terrance lunged forward with a vicious overhead strike, time seemed to slow. Adrian's mind cleared, and for the first time, instinct took over. He moved without thinking, his sword coming up in a smooth, fluid motion to block the strike. The blow was deflected, and Terrance's momentum was thrown off.
Terrance blinked in surprise, momentarily caught off guard. Adrian didn't know how he had done it, but his body had moved on its own, reacting faster than his mind could process.
"What the—" Terrance growled, his eyes narrowing as he lashed out again. But Adrian was ready this time. With a sudden calm, he parried each of Terrance's strikes, his confidence growing with every block.
Terrance's anger flared. "How are you blocking me!?" he snarled, launching a wild attack.
But Adrian stood his ground, countering each strike with precision. And then, in a brief moment of clarity, Adrian saw an opening in Terrance's defense. Without hesitation, he struck, his wooden sword slicing through the air and connecting with Terrance's shoulder. The impact sent Terrance stumbling back, dropping to one knee.
The crowd gasped.
"You...!" Terrance spat, his face twisting in rage as he glared up at Adrian. Humiliated, he rose to his feet, his fury palpable. His wooden sword crackled as he channeled mana into it, breaking the cardinal rule of training duels.
Adrian's eyes widened in shock. He's using mana!
Terrance charged, his mana-infused blade aimed directly at Adrian's chest. Adrian raised his sword to block, but he knew he couldn't stop it.
Before the strike could land, a figure appeared between them, deflecting the blow with a swift, effortless motion. The mana surrounding Terrance's blade dissipated, leaving him stumbling back in shock.
It was the facilitator from earlier, his calm expression betraying no emotion. "That's enough," he said, his voice low but filled with authority.
Terrance's rage flared. "You can't interfere—"
"Stop this, or you'll face the consequences," the facilitator cut him off, his voice leaving no room for argument.
Before Terrance could respond, Captain Mohan stepped into the room. His presence alone was enough to silence the tension. The atmosphere shifted as Terrance, usually so full of himself, broke out into a cold sweat.
"What's going on here?" Mohan's voice was gruff, and his eyes landed on Terrance, narrowing in suspicion.
Terrance stammered, scrambling to explain himself, but the words faltered under Mohan's steely gaze.
"Enough," Mohan said, cutting him off. He turned to the facilitator. "Rowan, disqualify him."
Rowan nodded. "Terrance Durk, you've broken the rules. You are disqualified for using mana during a duel."
"You can't do that!" Terrance protested, his voice rising in indignation.
"You broke the rules," Rowan replied evenly. "Mana is forbidden. You're done for the day."
Mohan's glare silenced any further protests. "Get out."
Terrance hesitated, casting one last venomous glare at Adrian before storming out of the room. "This isn't over," he spat. "Next time, you won't be so lucky."
Adrian stood frozen, still trembling from the duel. His mind raced, but he knew one thing for sure—this was far from over.
Mohan approached, his expression softening slightly. "Rest up, recruit," he said. "You did well."