The students were scattered across the training compound, each taking the rare opportunity for free time in their way. Their personalities began to shine in the absence of structured tasks, the quiet moments revealing who they were outside the confines of competition.
Tae-young, ever the confident and competitive spirit, found his way to the recreational centre's dartboard. He stood there, arms crossed as he eyed the target with precision, each throw calculated. His aim was immaculate, much like the assassin he prided himself on being. But it wasn't just about practice—it was a show. Every dart that hit the bullseye was met with a smug grin, his posture daring anyone to challenge him.
Kyu, as expected, kept his distance from the more energetic displays. He had claimed a quiet corner near the library, poring over the manual for NexaRealm. His focus was intense, his fingers trailing the diagrams as if uncovering secrets that only he could see. If anyone walked by, he didn't look up. This was his solace, a world of numbers and strategies where he thrived.
In-su, meanwhile, had taken a more relaxed approach. He was sprawled on a lounge chair just outside the compound, headphones on, nodding to some soft melody as he gazed at the clouds. For someone hailed as a top-tier mage in the game, his real-world demeanour was oddly serene, almost detached from the competitive energy that buzzed around him.
Min-jae and Joon-ho had paired up, their rivalry spilling into the rec room where they played pool. Joon-ho was grinning as he lined up his shots, his brash confidence radiating as always. Min-jae, on the other hand, played with quiet determination, his smirk only surfacing when Joon-ho inevitably scratched. Their banter filled the room, teasing insults flying back and forth in a way that spoke of camaraderie beneath the surface.
Kang-dae, the gentle giant of the group, had found his way to the garden area, where he quietly tended to a small patch of flowers that had been planted near the edge of the courtyard. Despite his towering frame and his reputation as a tank in NexaRealm, his movements were careful and deliberate as he removed weeds and adjusted the soil around the plants. His soft smile was a stark contrast to the fierce competitor he became in the game, a reminder of the nurturing eldest brother he was back home. For Kang-dae, these small acts of care felt like a way to ground himself amid the intensity of their training.
Baek-hyeon, still marvelling at the glove he had acquired, was seated in the courtyard, tinkering with it. His quiet excitement was contagious, his smile growing as he tested its capabilities by moving small objects in his vicinity. Though normally shy and reserved, this newfound sense of discovery seemed to bring him out of his shell. He muttered to himself, lost in the thrill of experimentation.
Sang-hee had stationed herself in the kitchen, of all places. Not because she was cooking, but because she was organizing. Her meticulous nature couldn't handle the disorder she'd found in the pantry, and before anyone could stop her, she had rearranged every shelf. It wasn't a task she'd been assigned, but one she felt compelled to do, her focus unwavering as she brought order to chaos.
Hana, on the other hand, had taken to the sparring grounds. She moved with fluid grace, practising her stances and strikes against an imaginary opponent. Each movement was deliberate, her dedication to her role as a fighter evident. She didn't care who watched, only that she improved.
Hi-ah and Hyun-ae had claimed a corner of the lounge, their heads bent over a game of cards. Their competitive streaks were on full display, each trying to outwit the other with a playful intensity that bordered on ruthlessness. Hyun-ae's boisterous laughter rang out whenever she won a hand, while Hi-ah's quiet smirk betrayed her satisfaction in every small victory.
Jin-kyong, as always, was perched somewhere high—this time on the balcony overlooking the courtyard. With a sketchpad in hand, she sketched the compound, her marks quick and precise. Her gaze occasionally drifted to the others below, but her focus always returned to her art, her calm demeanour a contrast to the chaos around her.
Soo-jin leaned against a tree near the courtyard, her arms crossed as she observed Baek-hyeon's experiments. She wasn't much for idle chatter but seemed content to watch. Her role as a fighter meant she was always ready for action, but in this moment, she allowed herself a rare moment of quiet.
Though separated by their interests, there was an unspoken connection between them all. Each found comfort in their own space, but the occasional glance or passing comment reminded them that they were a team. This moment, fleeting as it was, gave them a chance to recharge—not just physically, but mentally.
For now, they were fifteen individuals, each with their quirks and habits. But soon, they would be a single unit again, the challenges ahead demanding nothing less.
As the students busied themselves with leisure, the instructors also sought brief respites in their ways. Though they carried an air of authority, they were human too, each with their pasts, ambitions, and sacrifices. Once titans of the NexaRealm competitive scene, they had all made the difficult decision to step back from their glory days.
The offer had come directly from Director Hye-su, CEO of NexaCorp Korea, during the university's founding. The terms were enticing—high salaries, free housing, and the prestige of shaping the next generation. But the cost was steep: they could no longer compete in or be affiliated with the World NexaRealm Championship. And so, reluctantly, they traded their dreams for the chance to mentor the future.
Once the top Fighter in the global rankings, Instructor Seung-hyun had been known for his unyielding resilience and brute force, earning him the moniker The Iron Vanguard. Now, he sat in a quiet corner of the campus veranda, sipping tea and gazing at the horizon. His thoughts often drifted to the students he now trained. Watching them grow was fulfilling, yet the ache of leaving behind the roar of the crowd and the visceral thrill of combat remained.
"Still," he muttered. "They've got the fire. Maybe they'll light up the world in ways we couldn't."
Instructor Ji-woo, once a dominant Marksman, had a reputation for his precision and icy calm under pressure. Dubbed The Phantom Arrow, he had been a symbol of reliability in the professional scene. Now, he worked quietly in his quarters, polishing a custom-made crossbow-like training device.
"It's funny," he mused, adjusting the mechanisms. "To think I gave this all up for spreadsheets and lesson plans."
Yet there was pride in his voice as he recalled watching students like Chin-hwa and Jin-kyong develop. They might not have his steadiness yet, but the potential was undeniable.
As a Roamer, Instructor Min-ji had once been a legend for her adaptability and cunning plays, often tilting matches with a single decisive move. Now, she wandered the university grounds with a nostalgic smile. She had a habit of observing the students from afar, silently assessing their chemistry and growth.
"They remind me of us," she thought, recalling her team.
While the decision to step back from competition still lingered in her heart, she found joy in the students' camaraderie and determination.
Known as Shadow Reaper, Instructor Dong-soo had been one of the most feared Assassins in NexaRealm. His lightning-quick reflexes and surgical precision had defined his career. Now, he paced near the training grounds, his mind grappling with the irony of mentoring Tae-young, the very student who had overtaken him in the rankings. He grinned wryly.
"Kids these days," he muttered. Though his ego might have taken a hit, he couldn't help but feel a swelling pride in Tae-young's progress. "He's got my speed, but let's see if he can master my patience."
As a Mage, Instructor Hye-won had been both feared and revered, earning the nickname Arcane Maestro for her seamless control of the battlefield. She now sat in a campus lounge, engrossed in a book, though her thoughts frequently wandered. Training students like In-su reminded her of the time she spent perfecting her craft, the hours of practice and sacrifice.
"These kids have it too easy," she joked to herself, remembering how she had worked multiple jobs to afford her first Realm device. But deep down, she admired the students' passion and knew they were destined for greatness.
The instructors had all faced the same painful choice: give up the spotlight to become guides for the next generation. As they enjoyed their brief downtime, a wave of bittersweet nostalgia washed over them. They missed the exhilaration of the World NexaRealm Championship, but watching their students work tirelessly toward their goals was a new kind of satisfaction.
Tomorrow would bring more gruelling challenges, but for now, they allowed themselves this moment of quiet reflection. Despite the sacrifices, they held onto hope that the students would carry the torch forward, proving that their decision to step back had been worth it.