September 27, 3108
Archery Dojo
I was surrounded by absolute darkness. Beyond five meters, I couldn't see a thing. Despite that, my arrow was already nocked, my muscles taut and ready for action.
In the distance, about 50 meters away, a faint white light flickered into existence. It was dim but unmistakable against the oppressive blackness. Without hesitation, I drew the bowstring, locked onto the light, and released.
The arrow soared with remarkable speed, untouched by any enchantment or reinforcement.
Even as the first arrow flew, I didn't pause. My right hand was already reaching for another arrow, fluidly preparing for the next shot.
This time, a new light appeared—fainter, farther, somewhere around 130 meters away. My response was instinctive: aim, release.
Woosh.
The arrow sped through the darkness toward its target.
As the second arrow found its mark, three more lights ignited simultaneously, scattered at the same distance but in different directions. My eyes immediately fixed on them, one after another.
Wasting no time, I released another arrow with a swift, practiced motion. My movements were seamless, the bowstring barely resting before being drawn again.
Then, five lights appeared at once, each at varying distances. The closest was around 60 meters, the furthest nearly 300 meters away.
Now I was pushed to my limits. Each action needed to be precise and rapid—no wasted movements, no hesitation. My aim had to be instantaneous, and the arrows had to fly at maximum speed.
As I drew back the bowstring, I felt a shift in the aether surrounding me. The aether seemed to respond to my effort, wrapping itself around the arrow. A vibrant green wind-like aura encased it, amplifying its power.
Woosh.
The arrow tore through the air, covering the vast distance in the blink of an eye before striking its target.
Next, I muttered under my breath, maintaining the same unwavering focus.
One by one, I struck the lights as they appeared, relentless in my pursuit. The dojo was soon engulfed in darkness once more, the faint glows extinguished, leaving only silence.
But as I relaxed my grip on the bow, I couldn't ignore the truth.
"Only 5... even after all this time," I murmured, frustration tingling in my chest.
I managed to manifest the element in only five arrows I fired at what I considered my current maximum effort.
"Your result is not ideal, but you are certainly talented in archery," Mr. Karlos said. His voice came from behind me, but in the darkness, it was impossible to pinpoint his exact location.
The roof of the shooting area began to shift, the two halves retracting to let in the fading light of the setting sun. As the light filled the space, my targets came into view—mannequins positioned at varying distances. Most bore arrows embedded in their critical zones: legs, arms, chest, abdomen, and head. However, two stood untouched, the arrows meant for them stuck in the ground nearby.
"You hit eight out of ten mannequins. On average, the time between the appearance of the target and the arrow's impact did not exceed two seconds. This is a good result—nearly ideal. However, you still need to improve your control of the element. Your grade is B+," Mr. Karlos explained with his usual emotionless tone.
"Thank you for the evaluation," I replied, gathering my arrows and heading toward the equipment rack. With evening approaching, I knew it was time to return to my quarters. Tomorrow promised another test, possibly even harder than this one.
September 28, 3108
Me, Liam, and Nero already in our heavy training gear. We were doing light stretches and warm-up exercises, preparing ourselves for the day's challenge. Last week, Mr. Ronald had announced a test for today—a small tournament among the three of us.
"Hello, guys," Mr. Ronald greeted us as he entered, holding the door open.
"Good morning," we replied in unison.
"Starting today, someone new will be joining your training sessions. She transferred here after she closed her previous course," Mr. Ronald said, stepping aside to allow the newcomer to enter.
"Elysia?" Liam blurted out, his voice tinged with surprise as he recognized her.
"It's nice to see you again," Elysia said with a small bow.
Mr. Ronald glanced between us, noting our reactions. "It seems you already know each other. Even better. Elysia, grab your equipment from the locker room, and the four of you can begin shortly."
As Elysia headed to the locker room, Liam turned to Nero with a puzzled expression.
"Did you tell her about this course?" he asked.
"I told her I was training under Mr. Ronald, but nothing more than that! I'm as surprised as you are," Nero replied defensively, raising his hands.
Curiosity got the better of me, so I turned to Mr. Ronald. "Professor, what did you mean when you said she closed a course?"
"She completed all the requirements set by her previous instructor, so he released her from the lessons," Mr. Ronald explained casually.
Liam's curiosity flared. "What do we have to do to close this course?"
Mr. Ronald chuckled deeply. "HoHoHo! Feeling confident, are we? It's simple you just have to defeat me in the ring. Of course, I'll be using both element control and armor."
The memory of being flung into the ring's walls by him during a sparring session without him using any enhancements was still fresh in our minds. The mere thought of facing him at full strength sent shivers down our spines.
"You want to give it a try?" Mr. Ronald asked, his tone half-taunting, half-serious.
"N-no, no! I was just curious!" Liam stammered, quickly stepping back a few steps.
"That's what I thought," Mr. Ronald said with a grin. Then, his tone turned firm. "Enough chatter. Start your duels already!"
Nero and Liam stood five meters apart in the ring, their postures tense with anticipation. In the middle stood Mr. Ronald, serving as the referee. He raised one hand high in the air.
"Start!" he declared, swiftly bringing his hand down to signal the beginning of the match.
Liam immediately surged forward, closing the distance between them. However, unlike his previous duels, his attacks were more measured—quick jabs and low kicks aimed at destabilizing Nero's rhythm and balance.
Nero, unshaken, focused on deflecting Liam's strikes with precise movements. As Liam launched another low kick, Nero stepped back to the minimum distance required to evade the attack. In the same fluid motion, Nero pivoted and countered with a strike aimed at Liam's abdomen. His right fist surged forward, encased in a blue aura resembling flowing water.
Sensing the danger, Liam made a quick decision. Instead of regaining his balance after his missed attack, he leaned further away, allowing Nero's strike to miss him completely.
Realizing his opponent had moved out of range, Nero let the blue aura around his fist dissipate, but he didn't stop there. His right leg shot forward in a swift follow-up, targeting Liam's torso as he continued to fall.
Liam acted quickly, planting his foot firmly on the ground to regain stability. Using his newfound balance, he launched a counterattack—his right fist aimed directly at Nero's chin. The punch was lightning fast, propelled by a swirling wind that wrapped around his fist, accelerating its speed.
Nero reacted instantly. His striking hand, now lacking momentum, shifted into a relaxed, open palm. As Liam's wind-imbued punch closed in, Nero transmitted an impulse through his body, ducking sharply to avoid the attack.
Simultaneously, Nero's open palm made contact with Liam's left shoulder. In that moment, his hand seemed to transform into an alabaster snake, sliding smoothly down Liam's arm, across his torso, and coiling around his neck. Nero's movements became increasingly fluid, his body shifting with an almost liquid-like grace as he maneuvered behind Liam.
With a final, decisive motion, Nero brought Liam to the ground. Liam was completely immobilized, Nero's limbs wrapped tightly around his neck and abdomen. The grip intensified, restricting Liam's ability to breathe.
Desperate, Liam attempted to free himself by landing punches on Nero's side, but his strikes had little effect. His face began to turn blue as the lack of oxygen took hold.
Mr. Ronald immediately intervened.
"Stop! Nero is the winner!" he declared with authority.
At the command, Nero released Liam and stepped back, allowing his opponent to catch his breath. The duel was over, with Nero emerging as the clear victor.
As Mr. Ronald's verdict echoed through the room, Nero released his grip on Liam, who immediately fell to his knees, coughing and gasping for air after the intense chokehold.
"Man, are you made of liquid or did they just remove a few of your bones when they built you?" Liam grumbled, his voice laced with irritation.
Nero smirked, clearly enjoying the moment. "Nah, I've always been better than you," he said, his tone teasing and deliberately provocative.
Liam glared but chose not to respond further. He climbed out of the ring, muttering under his breath as he walked away.
"Do you need a moment to rest, or can we continue immediately?" Mr. Ronald asked Nero, his tone professional but firm.
Nero stretched briefly, then shrugged. "I'm fine. Let's continue now."
I stepped into the ring, taking Liam's place. Mr. Ronald scanned both of us, his eyes seeking confirmation of our readiness. We each gave a small nod.
"Start!" he commanded, signaling the beginning of our match.
I activated my circuit, energy surging through me, but unlike Liam, I didn't rush into the fight. Instead, I adopted a relaxed stance, carefully gauging Nero's movements. Nero mirrored my approach, showing no urgency to close the gap.
I can't let him get too close, I thought. At a distance, I can strike effectively, but if he closes in, I'll lose my advantage.
Nero began his advance, his movements deliberate and almost eerie, as if his feet were gliding across the floor. Suddenly, he lunged forward, his left fist aiming for my chin. I leaned back just enough to dodge the strike, staying calm and focused.
But Nero wasn't finished. He followed up with a series of quick jabs from his right hand. I deflected the attacks one by one, staying just out of reach. Then he transitioned into a kick aimed at my midsection, forcing me to retreat further.
He pressed on, relentless in his assault. A barrage of punches followed, one after the other, forcing me to block and defend rather than counter. With no time to think, I found myself backed into the edge of the ring, the net pressing against my back.
Nero's final strike came in the form of an uppercut, his right hand enveloped in a water-like aura that pulsed with power. With no room left to retreat, I raised my left arm to intercept the punch, blocking it just in time. At the same moment, I countered with a low elbow strike to Nero's head using my right arm.
The attack connected. Nero staggered back, his assault momentarily halted as he recovered.
Recognizing my opportunity, I advanced. Before Nero could fully regain his balance, I unleashed a series of quick jabs aimed at his head. Though most were blocked, I managed to follow up with a strike to his left leg, which he hadn't yet withdrawn.
The blow landed, though it lacked the power to destabilize him completely. Still, Nero grimaced slightly, and I pressed my advantage. I continued attacking, forcing him onto the defensive. His movements became slightly slower, and I noticed him favoring his left leg.
I delivered a punch from the right, which he blocked, but his defense was shaky. Spotting an opening, I shifted my focus and aimed a strike at his liver on his left side.
"Urgh!" Nero grunted, visibly recoiling from the pain. His defense faltered further, leaving his right side open for a follow-up attack.
I capitalized on this, landing another punch. Even though it was blocked, the impact forced him to stagger again.
But Nero wasn't one to give in easily. Despite the pain, he pushed back with a powerful palm strike to my chest, his right hand glowing faintly as it connected. The force of the blow sent me stumbling backward, creating a brief pause in the fight.
Both of us stood at a distance now, breathing heavily but refusing to relent. Nero's eyes met mine, and I could see the determination burning within him.
The duel wasn't over yet.
As the distance between us grew, a brief pause followed. Both of us were breathing heavily, our bodies showing signs of fatigue. But the respite was short-lived. Without hesitation, we launched into another exchange of attacks.
Nero struck, and I deflected. I attacked, and he dodged. Our limbs, wrapped in elemental energy, collided with fatal potential in every strike. Each movement demanded precision—one mistake could end the fight.
The relentless pace drained us both. My stamina was nearing its limit, and from the way Nero moved, I could tell he wasn't faring any better. The adrenaline masked the pain of the blows I'd taken, but I knew they were there, demanding attention. My mind raced with calculations: Which attack is a feint? What should I block? What can I counter? How do I create an opening?
In a critical exchange, my right fist clashed against Nero's right hand, the impact forcing us apart. A small gap opened between us again. This has to be the last strike, I thought. I don't have much left in me.
Nero seemed to have the same idea. We both surged forward for one final impact. I aimed my right fist at his chest, pouring all my remaining strength into it. Nero advanced with both hands poised like pincers, ready to intercept.
As we closed the gap, my fist collided with Nero's hands. Despite the pain visible on his face, he caught my strike, his grip unwavering. He twisted his body, aiming to grab my shoulder with his free hand.
Realizing I couldn't retreat, I leaped into the air, hoping to force him to release my hand. Instead, Nero anchored himself, using the ground for support, and pulled me toward him with all his strength.
I countered with a desperate knee strike aimed at his torso, but Nero deflected it with his open hand, maintaining his grip on my fist. We both fell to the ground, and Nero took advantage of the moment by pinning my hand beneath his body, leaving it with no chance of escape.His hold tightened, the pressure intensifying with every passing second.
I can't lose this hand again, I thought, as his grip threatened to crush my bones.
In a final act of surrender, I slapped Nero's leg with my free hand, signaling my submission.
"Stop!" Mr. Ronald's voice rang out, sharp and commanding.
But Nero's grip didn't loosen. If anything, it grew stronger.
"Nero, stop! You've won!" Mr. Ronald repeated, his tone urgent.
When Nero still didn't respond, Mr. Ronald intervened physically, prying my hand free from Nero's relentless hold. Then we noticed that Nero collapse, his body falling limp as unconsciousness overtook him. His instincts alone had kept him fighting.
Mr. Ronald crouched beside Nero, slapping his cheeks gently to bring him back to consciousness.
"Ahh? What...?" Nero mumbled groggily as he came to.
He staggered to his feet, confusion briefly clouding his expression before a sharp pain overtook him.
"Ahhhh!" Nero cried out, clutching his side where my earlier liver strike had landed.
I wasn't much better. As my body relaxed, the adrenaline faded, and the full weight of my injuries made itself known. Every ache and bruise screamed for attention, and I could barely stay upright.
"You two, head to the medical center," Mr. Ronald ordered firmly.
Supporting each other, Nero and I draped our arms over one another's shoulders. Neither of us could trust our legs to carry us the full distance without giving out.
"Good fight," Liam called as we exited the ring.
I glanced up at him, noticing Elysia standing beside him. Her expression was one of pure astonishment, her wide eyes shifting between Nero and me.
Is my face covered in blood or something? I wondered, my exhaustion clouding my ability to process anything else.
Then Nero muttered, "instead of commenting, maybe help us get to the medical center."