As the echo of our lunchtime laughter fades into the halls of the library, we part ways. Biana is off to her next class, while I find myself walking towards the gymnasium, the location of my next class. Swordsmanship.
As I step into the expansive hall, I take a moment to let my eyes wander. The gymnasium is a cavernous structure, with high ceilings supported by grand pillars of carved stone. The walls are adorned with various banners and plaques, each telling a story of the academy's prestigious history. In the center of the room stands a sea of mannequins, waiting to serve as our opponents for the day. Seriously It's going to be an annoying day today.
Students are already scattered about, some in quiet conversation, others going through warm-up routines. Among the crowd, I spot Aira, Rai, and Isadora. They each have their own distinctive air about them; Aira with her natural elegance, Rai with his stoic demeanor, and Isadora... well, Isadora with her constant aura of disinterest.
I let out a sigh, feeling the weight of the coming class. The only available seat happens to be next to Isadora. Ugh, just my luck, Hmmm it might not be that bad. When it comes to training she's quite... focused, that's one way to put it. Maybe she'll help me improve, though I doubt it.
I slide onto the bench next to her. Isadora glances at me briefly, a flicker of acknowledgment in her cold eyes, before she returns to her own world, her gaze focused somewhere in the distance.
Before I can ponder further, the sound of footsteps echoes through the gymnasium. All chatter dies down as every eye turns towards the entrance. Our professor for the semester steps in.
He's a striking figure, with an air of both youth and wisdom. His hair, a dark gold, falls in loose waves to his shoulders, highlighting his chiseled features. His eyes, an unusual shade of golden amber, gleam with intelligence and experience. His tall, lean frame moves with an elegant grace, Damn this is going to be difficult. Professor Don is truly hard to deal with, Ugh, I just hope I won't be forced into participating in his competitive duels with other professors.
As he walks in, he instructs us to stand, his voice resonating throughout the silent room. "You are all beginners, only a handful of you can actually use a sword accordingly. However, it doesn't change the fact that all of you still have a long way to go."
He directs us to the storage room to choose a wooden weapon. Despite this being a swordsmanship class, we have the option to try different weapons. If we are more compatible with something other than a sword, he assures us that he'll facilitate a transfer.
His gaze then falls upon the mannequins. "There are roughly 40 of you. With the partner next to you, find a mannequin. You will give each other pointers, and I will walk around and try to help you all. The purpose of this semester is to perfect your sword strikes."
With that, the class erupts into a flurry of activity as students scramble to get their choice of weapons and find a mannequin. I look over at Isadora, who stands up and walks towards the storage room without a word. I sigh, get up and follow her.
Her long black hair falls freely down her back as she moves. It's a stark contrast to her usual controlled and put-together image. I watch her pick a wooden sword with minimal consideration. With a weapon in hand, she strides towards a nearby mannequin and immediately starts to practice.
I follow suit, picking out a wooden sword of my own. It feels good in my hand, a comforting weight. I join Isadora by the mannequin.
My sword feels heavy in my hands, its grip unfamiliar, its balance alien. Isadora stands next to me, her movements fluid and her strokes precise. Each swing, each parry, speaks of practice and control, Hmmm, let's see if I can copy her movements.
Am I doing it right? The question hangs in my mind as my strikes clumsily mimic hers, feeling awkward and uncoordinated. My eyes flicker to Isadora, watching her strike the mannequin with a steadiness that belies the power behind her blows. There's a grace in her movements, a purpose that seems to elude me. Haha, seriously how am I supposed to compete with her? Maybe I should simply use guns, practicing swordsmanship is truly difficult.
I can feel the strain in my arms as I attempt to maintain the rhythm, my grip tightening around the hilt of the sword in frustration. It's in that moment the professor strides over, his eyes appraising my form and technique. He doesn't say anything at first, merely observing.
"Do not grip the sword so hard," he finally speaks, his voice firm yet not unkind. "Your grip must be firm, but not too firm. Your posture is off, straighten yourself and hold your feet firmly on the ground. Your strikes are crude," he continues, causing my grip to slacken momentarily.
His gaze sweeps towards Isadora, then back to me. "Stop striking so hard and focus on improving your strikes, do not try to copy Isadora. I understand you want to improve yourself; however, she is striking at a speed of her level."
His words, while harsh, carry a weight of truth. I watch him leave, taking his critique to heart. With a sigh, I shift my stance, my grip on the sword adjusting. I slow down my strikes, focusing more on the quality of each one rather than the speed. Damn, that guy, maybe I can use a cheat, hehehe, hey system could I use points to get sword talent?
[...]
[Haha, you truly are a lazy bum]
Just answer the damn question, you bastard. Can I or can I not buy sword talent?
[No, you can buy sword techniques but you cannot buy talent]
Tsk, you shitty system, how can you not sell sword talent. For the next three hours, the only sounds in the room are the consistent thumps of our swords against the mannequins. Even in this otherworldly place where people have superhuman abilities, I can't shake off the feeling of exhaustion seeping into my bones.
Finally~ How can we be forced to do this for so long? As soon as the professor announces the end of class, it's as though a collective breath is released throughout the room. Swords drop to the floor in unison, the clatter echoing throughout the room as students collapse onto the ground, their bodies slick with sweat and exhaustion.
All but one.
Isadora is still striking, her form as relentless as ever. It's only when the professor dismisses her that she finally stops. The wooden sword in her hand seems light as a feather as she casually strolls away, taking it to storage. Sigh, What Am I going to do with this girl?
Her dedication is both intimidating and crazy. I get that this girl had a hard childhood and she's trying to get stronger but damn, she really needs to take a break.
Forcing myself back onto my feet, I stretch my aching muscles, feeling a satisfying pop in my joints. Retrieving my wooden sword, I make my way towards the storage, my mind already drifting to the kitchen.
The thought of food, of cooking, sparks a sense of joy within me that not even the exhaustion can diminish. A hearty chicken curry, perhaps? Or maybe grilled fish with fresh, tangy salsa on the side. Maybe I should try making some Mexican food~ Oh! or maybe some more Italian food~
Hehe, The only good thing about this place is its endless supply of food. Hmmm, I have a cooking class tomorrow, I wonder how fancy dishes look in this world? I noticed Some Purple meat in the freezer but I have no idea how to prepare it.
Stepping into the cafeteria, the enticing aroma of food wafts towards me, mixing with the low hum of conversation. Across the room, I spot Kaida, Flora and Biana sitting at a table. It strikes me as slightly odd - they hardly know each other and yet, there they are, chatting away.
Biana, once again, is already in her black pajamas, using her pillow as a makeshift desk. I have to stifle a chuckle - leave it to Biana to prioritize comfort over everything else, Ugh, maybe I should spike her drink with some type of energy drink.
"Hey, guys!" I greet as I walk over, waving casually. Kaida and Flora both return my greeting with easy smiles. Despite not having a proper introduction yet, they seem pretty easy to talk to.
"So, what's up?" I ask, grinning at them.
"Hey V, we were just waiting for you," Flora responds. I raise an eyebrow at that. Waiting for me? The hell. Why are they waiting for me?
Biana stirs in her sleep, snuffling a bit before settling back down. "We invited Biana to join us for dinner, and she said we're eating whatever you're cooking," Kaida explains, smirking at the sleeping form of our friend.
My heart sinks. Of course, Biana would pull a stunt like this. Sighing, I walk up to her and flick her on the forehead, jolting her awake. This son of a bitch, well I can't blame her, knowing these two they probably forced her to come to the cafeteria with them.
"Ooh, so I have your food~" I tease, taking her pillow. "According to who?"
She yawns, rubbing her forehead as she gives me an indignant look. "Oh come on, dude~" she mumbles, "You promised you'd cook me something, remember~"