Diluc woke up to the soft, golden light of dawn filtering through the curtains of his room in the boys' dormitory. The dorms were grand yet simple, with long corridors lined by sturdy wooden doors, each marked with the student's name and department. Inside his room, the stone walls were softened by a thick carpet, a simple bed, a desk cluttered with notes from his studies, and a closet filled with the standard academy attire. A large window opened to a view of the academy grounds, where students were already starting their morning routines.
The mess hall was a bustling place, full of chatter as students from various departments sat together. Long tables stretched across the hall, with a wide array of food that catered to every kind of appetite. Diluc and Peter exchanged casual banter while grabbing breakfast before heading to their classes. Today marked the end of their one-month basic training, and the start of their true lessons. The one-month foundation had been grueling, but today they would finally enter the Knight Department, something Diluc had been looking forward to since his arrival.
The classes were now split based on the departments the students had chosen, and each student was expected to attend the courses relevant to their discipline. For Diluc, this meant the Knight Department—a place where those who wielded weapons and fought in close combat would learn the intricacies of battle.
As they left the mess hall, Diluc and Peter walked side by side, heading towards the sparring hall. The sparring hall itself was vast, with high ceilings and walls lined with racks of every kind of weapon imaginable. Swords, spears, axes—everything from beginner training gear to advanced magical weapons.
"This is it," Peter said, looking around with wide eyes. "Finally, we get to do something real."
Diluc shared his friend's excitement. For the first time, they would be receiving proper instruction on combat techniques. Though his talent with lightning made him stand out, Diluc had always felt drawn to the sword, and the idea of mastering it.
The hall was partially noisy as students from different classes gathered. It wasn't just knights; there were also mages who relied on physical combat, rogues who used speed and agility, and even a few oddballs who combined magic and weaponry. The anticipation in the air was thick, with students whispering about what kind of instructor they would get.
Suddenly, the doors at the far end of the hall slammed open, and a figure strode in, commanding the attention of every student in the room. The noise died instantly as all eyes turned toward the man.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, and wore a set of weathered armor that had clearly seen countless battles. His presence was intimidating, and the confidence in his walk made it clear he wasn't someone to be trifled with. His gaze swept over the room, sharp and assessing.
"I'm Leon," he said in a booming voice that echoed through the sparring hall, "and I'm your combat instructor. You can complain all you want, but let me make this clear—no one is going to listen to your complaints. I'm here to teach you how to fight. If you're looking for a soft hand, you won't find it here."
There were a few nervous chuckles, but most students stayed silent, intimidated by the instructor's bold demeanor.
Leon crossed his arms, standing in front of the assembled students. "In this class, we don't care about your rank, your family, or your magic. You'll be judged on one thing—your ability to fight. If you can't keep up, you'll fall behind. But if you listen, and if you're willing to push yourself past your limits, I'll make you into warriors."
Diluc felt his heart race at the words. This was exactly what he had been waiting for. For the past month, they had been focused on theory, learning the basics of mana control and combat styles, but now things were about to get serious. He glanced at Peter, who gave him a nod of encouragement.
"First thing's first," Leon continued, "we're going to see what each of you can do. Pair up. I want to see you fight. No holding back, no fancy tricks. Just raw skill."
Excitement surged through Diluc. This was his chance to prove himself, to see where he stood among the other students. He turned to Peter, who grinned. "Looks like we're up."
They moved to an open space on the floor as the rest of the students paired off. Weapons were drawn, and the sound of clashing steel soon filled the air as the sparring matches began. Diluc gripped his training sword, feeling the weight of it in his hand. He had always been good with lightning, but the sword felt natural to him, as though it had been waiting for him to master it.
Peter raised his own weapon, his stance steady. "Let's see what you've got, Diluc."
With a nod, Diluc advanced, his heart pounding in anticipation. It was time to fight.
That sounds like a solid continuation. Here's a suggestion to integrate it smoothly with the previous part:
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As Mr. Leon commanded, students began to pair up and start their sparring sessions. There were 10 rings in the large, open sparring hall, and each was quickly filled with two students facing off, meaning 20 students were sparring simultaneously. The clashing of wooden practice swords and the sounds of fists hitting practice pads filled the air.
Diluc and Peter naturally gravitated toward each other, having already built up some camaraderie over the past month. They knew each other's strengths and weaknesses, and as soon as they stepped into the ring, their movements were sharp, their focus intense. Peter's attacks were quick, precise, but Diluc's agility allowed him to sidestep and counter effortlessly.
However, their duel didn't last long. Barely a few minutes into the sparring session, Mr. Leon called out sharply, drawing their attention.
"You two, stop," he commanded. "Switch partners."
Diluc and Peter exchanged confused looks before approaching the instructor.
"Sir, why the change?" Peter asked.
Leon's gaze was firm as he spoke. "Sparring with each other is good practice, but sparring with the same person repeatedly can limit your thinking. You'll start predicting each other's moves too easily, and that will weaken your adaptability in real battle. You might miss an opportunity to win because you got too comfortable with your opponent."
He gave them both a hard look, as though testing if they understood the point. "You need to keep challenging yourselves with new opponents. It'll sharpen your instincts."
Diluc nodded, realizing the truth in Leon's words. While sparring with Peter had been fun, he couldn't deny that he was starting to anticipate Peter's patterns. Fighting against different opponents would force him to adapt on the fly, a skill that would prove invaluable in real combat.