The morning training session began with standard warm-up exercises, but Asher could already feel the difference from his night practice. His muscles responded with newfound familiarity to movements that he'd previously struggled with, forcing him to deliberately slow down and appear less coordinated than he actually was.
"Alright, pair up!" Stanley's voice carried across the training grounds. "Today we're focusing on defensive maneuvers. Remember, a strong defense is just as important as offensive capability."
Derek naturally gravitated toward Yuno, leaving Asher to partner with a quiet girl named Maya who he recognized from his theory classes. She gave him a nervous smile, probably relieved to be paired with the "weak" student rather than someone who might hurt her.
"First exercise," Stanley called out, "Basic energy deflection. One partner will project, the other defend. Keep the power levels low - this is about technique, not strength."
Asher took the defensive position first, his heart rate picking up. This was always tricky - he needed to appear to struggle while actually protecting himself from harm. Maya's energy projection came at him, a soft blue light that wobbled slightly with her uncertainty.
He deliberately let the first blast catch him off guard, stumbling backward as expected of a 10-point student. Stanley nodded approvingly at his apparent struggle, but Asher caught a glint in the instructor's eye that made him wonder if he was being too obvious.
"Better form, Maya," Stanley called out as he walked between the pairs. "Asher, try to center your weight more. You're too easily knocked off balance."
Across the training ground, Derek and Yuno were putting on quite a show. Derek's energy projections were sharp and precise, while Yuno's defensive barriers shimmered with rainbow-like effects. Several students had stopped their own practice to watch.
"Show-offs," Maya muttered under her breath, making Asher smile. At least he wasn't the only one who found the constant display of power a bit tiresome.
The exercise continued, and Asher carefully maintained his facade of struggling improvement. A small step forward here, a slightly better block there - just enough progress to seem like he was trying without raising suspicion. But inside, he felt the surge growing stronger, almost eager to show what it could really do.
Then something unexpected happened. Maya's next projection came out stronger than before, fueled by growing confidence. For a split second, Asher's instincts from his night training kicked in. His hand moved automatically into a perfect defensive position, and he felt the surge rise to meet the incoming energy.
He caught himself just in time, deliberately dropping his guard and taking the hit. The force knocked him backward onto the ground, and several students laughed. Maya looked mortified.
"I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, rushing to help him up. "I didn't mean to put so much power into it!"
"It's fine," Asher assured her, accepting her hand up while internally cursing his momentary lapse in control. He glanced at Stanley, but the instructor was focused on correcting another student's form - or at least appeared to be.
"Let's take a break," Stanley announced moments later. "Water and rest for ten minutes, then we'll switch to offensive techniques."
As the students dispersed, Asher felt the familiar weight of his medication in his pocket. The morning's activities had kept his anxiety at bay, but he could feel it lurking at the edges of his consciousness, waiting for a moment of weakness.
Derek jogged over, his training uniform barely showing signs of exertion. "That was a nasty fall," he said, offering Asher a water bottle. "You okay?"
"Yeah, just bruised pride," Asher replied with a self-deprecating smile. "The usual."
"You're getting better though," Yuno added, joining them. "Your form's improving, even if your power levels aren't increasing yet."
If they only knew, Asher thought, taking a long drink of water. The sword of Avarest seemed to pulse in response to his thoughts, a reminder of his secret strength and the growing complexity of his situation at the academy.
"Alright, gather round!" Stanley's voice cut through the chatter. "For offensive techniques, we'll be working with the training dummies today." He gestured toward the line of reinforced practice targets, each designed to measure the force of impacts against them.
Asher's stomach tightened. The wooden logs he'd decimated last night flashed through his mind, and he knew this would require even more careful control. The students lined up, each taking position before a dummy.
"Remember," Stanley continued, pacing behind them, "power isn't everything. Precision and technique matter more than raw force. Begin!"
The training ground erupted with the sounds of impacts and energy releases. Steven, predictably, was putting on a show three dummies down from Asher, each of his strikes creating flashy explosions of energy. Several first-year students watched in awe.
Asher focused on his own dummy, deliberately making his strikes weak and slightly off-target. He could feel the surge within him practically begging to be released, especially after last night's practice had given it a taste of freedom. The sword of Avarest pulsed faintly in its hidden storage, responding to his suppressed power.
"Asher," Stanley's voice suddenly came from right behind him, making him jump. "Your stance is all wrong. Here." The instructor moved to adjust Asher's position, and for a moment, their eyes met. Something in Stanley's gaze made Asher wonder if the instructor had been watching his dummy practice spot last night.
"Thanks," Asher mumbled, maintaining his role as the struggling student.
"Try again," Stanley instructed, stepping back to observe.
Asher struck the dummy with carefully calculated weakness, though every muscle in his body knew exactly how to deliver a devastating blow. The dummy's measurement panel flickered with a predictably low number.
"Better stance," Stanley commented neutrally, moving on to the next student.
Derek, practicing nearby, was demonstrating impressive control. Each of his strikes hit with precision, the dummy's measurements showing consistent, powerful readings. Yuno's attempts were more erratic but occasionally sparked with surprising strength.
"Hey, watch this!" Steven's voice carried across the training ground. He launched into a complex combination of strikes, each one more showy than the last. His dummy's readings spiked impressively, drawing applause from his admirers.
"Focus on your own training," Stanley called out, though he seemed more amused than annoyed.
As the session continued, Asher felt fatigue setting in - not from the exercise itself, but from the constant effort of holding back. His lack of sleep wasn't helping either. The surge within him grew more insistent with each restricted movement, like a dam holding back a flood.
Then, during one strike, his concentration slipped. Perhaps it was the fatigue, or maybe the lingering effects of last night's anxiety attack, but for a split second, his true power leaked through. The dummy shuddered with impact, its measurement panel flashing numbers far above his usual range before quickly returning to normal.
Asher's heart stopped. He glanced around frantically, but most students were absorbed in their own practice. Only Stanley, standing at the far end of the training ground, seemed to be looking in his direction, his expression unreadable.
"Time!" Stanley called out. "Cool-down exercises, then you're dismissed."
As the students began their cool-down routine, Asher felt a strange mix of relief and frustration. Another session successfully maintaining his cover - mostly - but the strain of holding back was becoming more difficult each day.
"You seemed distracted today," Derek commented as they stretched. "Everything okay?"
"Just tired," Asher replied, which wasn't entirely a lie. "Didn't sleep well."
"Well, you'd better rest up," Yuno chimed in. "Remember, we have combat simulation tests tomorrow."
Asher nodded, though internally he groaned. Combat simulations meant more careful control, more pretense, more suppression of his true abilities. As they finished their cool-down exercises, he couldn't help but wonder how long he could keep up this exhausting charade.