"You've done enough," the man's voice silenced the arena. "This has gone too far."
The crowd parted slightly, revealing the dark-skinned instructor with a white blindfold covering his eyes. Two katana-like swords were sheathed at his hips. 'Samuel Draganov,' I recognised him instantly, the legendary swordsman from my novel, 'Realm of Shadows'.
"You've taken things too far, both of you,' he stated, his blindfold seemingly staring right at them.
He addressed Lucas first. "Lucas, you're a first-year. Your recklessness is understandable, but this was excessive. Report to the infirmary with Miss Frostvale immediately."
Lucas lowered his sword and winced, the earlier exchange had clearly taken a toll on his body.
Samuel then turned to Aaron, his tone shifting to one of pure disappointment. "As for you, you're a second-year. You should know better than to escalate a spar to this degree. Control yourself. Noble or not the academy's rules apply to everyone."
Aaron remained stoic and walked away as though nothing had happened at all.
Meanwhile, with a final almost-threatening glance around, Samuel vanished as quickly as he had appeared. With the drama resolved, the crowd dispersed. I, however, slipped away unnoticed.
This entire ordeal between Lucas and Aaron was good, it meant everything was proceeding as I had written it for now. The less involved I was with the happenings of the book, the more I could use the information I knew to my advantage. But the real question was for how long? Just how long could I keep relying on past knowledge?
I clenched my fist as I made my way back to my room.
"Damn it…" I muttered in frustration.
My immediate concern was my plan to get stronger. The training facility was useful, but my growth wasn't fast enough.
…
Back in the relative solitude of my dorm room (Lucas was likely still at the infirmary), I seized the opportunity. It was time to practice the mana absorption technique in class. Sitting cross-legged on my bed, I closed my eyes, focusing on the subtle currents of mana in the air.
I recalled the instructions.
"Inhale…Draw the mana into myself…"
It was a slow meditative process, but with each cycle, I felt a slight increase, a sort of tingling sensation that confirmed I was progressing.
An hour passed in my focused state.
[You have absorbed some mana and expanded your core!]
[Basic Mana Absorption skill level up!]
[Status]
- Name: Caspian Grey
- Age: 16
- Race: Human
- Mana: 11 (F)
- Physical Abilities:
- Strength: F
- Agility: F
- Endurance: F
- Dexterity: F
- Charm: F
- Skills:
- Basic Manage Absorption Lv. 1 (★)
- Dagger Affinity Lv. 1 (★)
Overall class: F
My mana had increased from 6 to 11. A small, significant jump, but still pathetically low. The real problem, however, was still there. I had no practical way to use this mana. No spells, no techniques — nothing to channel this energy into.
"It's not enough," I rubbed my the bridge of my nose. "My mana might be increasing, but without a way to use the damn thing I'm fucking useless, weaker than the average F-tier student. And considering everything that's going to happen… I'll be dead before the mid-stages if I don't find a way to improve."
I slammed my fist onto the wall next to me.
"Fuck!"
I was growing anxious and frustrated.
Relying solely on my foreknowledge of the plot wouldn't be enough. I needed to be more proactive in changing my fate, to become stronger, faster, and to be more ruthless if I had to.
"I can't afford to wait," I decided, forming a plan in my mind. "The academy's too restrictive. The city has resources, opportunities. And I know exactly where to find a skill that could make a big difference."
I glanced on the calendar displayed on my watch. "Tomorrow, after the first combat class," I murmured. "I'll have to leave during the lunch break. It's risky but it'll be worth it," I reassured myself.
*
*
*
The next morning I found myself in a spacious lecture hall, a lot more practical than the one used for basic magic theory. Smooth, polish stone covered the floor, designed to withstand the impact of combat drills. Weapon racks lined the wall, showcasing a variety of armaments. But despite all of that, my attention was immediately drawn to the front of the hall: Samuel Draganov.
As the last few students trickled in, I noticed Lucas entering last, looking slightly worse for wear, but seemingly more determined.
'Who knew writing an overly optimistic and motivated character would be… determined? Heh.'
I hadn't bothered trying to wake him today, I had my own preparations to make.
Samuel stood in silence with his arms crossed for a moment. Then, he spoke.
"Welcome to your first combat class," he began. "My name is Samuel Draganov, and I will be your instructor. Some of you may have met me yesterday in the training building."
He paused with a smile, his blindfolded gaze sweeped over the room.
"Combat, as I'm sure some of you know based on your individual trainings yesterday, isn't about brute strength or weapon proficiency," he continued, pacing around the room slowly. "It's about understanding your opponent, predicting their next moves, and ultimately outmaneuvering them."
He stopped just in the middle of the dais as he addressed us.
"Upon graduation, you'll be tasked with confronting monsters that you'll encounter in your day-to-day lives, both in and outside the city walls… or if you're unfortunate enough demons."
A wave of murmurs and uneasy shifts rippled through the hall.
"The most effective way to combat these things," Samuel emphasized, "is through knowledge. Comprehending their strengths, their weaknesses, and most importantly knowing what they are."
He paused again, his head tilting slightly.
"Which brings us to the fundamental question," he walked forward to the class, his voice dropping low. "How did these creatures come into existence?"
'I'd never actually considered that when writing the novel,' I realised putting a hand to my chin in thought. It was an obvious oversight, now that I had actually put some thought into it. No wonder my collections were low…
The hall fell silent. Students exchanged glances, whispering amongst themselves.
After a moment, a hand shot up from the back. A girl with icy blue hair. Amelia Frostvale.
"Sir," she began clear and confident, "while no one truly knows, the prevailing theory is that monsters are from mana itself. Perhaps through some form of… corruption of distortion of natural mana flows. Another theory is that it's our world's way of balancing things."
Samuel nodded slowly. "Plausible theories of course," he concided. "However the complete truth remains elusive. And until we really know, we have to rely on the one thing that's fact. They want to kill us and so we must kill them, relying on our knowledge and cunning to beat them."
He gestured to a large diagram displayed on the wall behind him. It showed a monstrous creature.
'A Ghastrex,' I thought and I was correct.
"This is a Ghastrex," Draganov announced. "Notorious for being fast, agile, with venomous claws. It'll kill you quickly before you can even scream for help. However, it's vulnerable to fire and possesses a weakness to weapons coated with Jilroot."
Students scritched and scratched on their notebooks while Samuel continued to talk about other common monsters, each with their own strengths and weaknesses.
After a while, he paused, asking us another question.
"Has anyone here ever encountered a demon?"
Silence.
A collective shaking of heads answered his inquiry.
"No one?" He confirmed with a hint of amusement in his voice. "Lucky. I hope you never have to. But in the unlikely event that you do, remember this: demons are not to be taken lightly. Believe me, I know."
He stopped briefly before speaking once again.
"Now, a better question for all of you: do you believe they can be reasoned with?"
Amelia raised her hand. "Is it not possible? While they're known for being malevolent, perhaps there are exceptions, demons who might be open to dialogue?"
"An intriguing notion, Miss Frostvale, but I'm afraid you're mistaken."
With a swift, fluid motion, he removed his blindfold, revealing a gruesome scar that bisected both of his eyes. He was blind. Completely blind.