The teacher stepped forward, robes whispering in the wind like low breath through steel. His mask — smooth silver with a faint vertical etching down the center — reflected morning light without revealing a single detail beneath.
"My name is Lendric, and I'll be observing your combat abilities today."
His gaze swept across the group like a blade deciding where to land. It stopped, naturally, on Malakai. His eyes shimmered — not with light, but with resonance, pulsing softly behind the mask.
"No spirit guardians."
The words were gentle but firm.
Behind Malakai, Velnix stirred. The mist peeled itself away from his shoulders, unraveling into the air with a quiet grace before drifting to the edge of the courtyard — coiling, waiting, watching.
Lendric let the silence hold for a moment, then added:
"But… since we have a spirit guardian among us, let me teach you something early."
He raised a hand, palm upward.
"Resonance is the breath of the world. It's in the air, the stone beneath your feet, and the silence between thoughts. You don't need to draw on Sovereign to access it. All you need is intent."
He lowered his hand to his chest, then pointed to his eyes.
"Focus on the energy around you. Picture it moving like smoke. Then, with pure thought, pull it inward. Infuse your eyes with it. Let your sight awaken."
The courtyard stilled.
A few muttered under their breath. Others closed their eyes. Breath slowed. Muscles tensed.
Malakai felt something stir. Like warmth against the base of his skull.
He tried.
For a moment, nothing.
Then — a flicker.
The world sharpened.
Velnix shimmered into view at the edge of the courtyard. No longer just mist, but shape — evolving.
He shifted through forms like water testing glass. Limbs stretched and retracted. Then stabilized — six arms, each ending in curved talons. His face coalesced last — not monstrous, but almost human, three vertical eyes burning softly across a featureless mask of pale mist.
Gasps echoed through the group.
"Woah…"
"He's… he's awesome."
"He doesn't freak me out at all!"
"He's freaky!"
Malakai stared, stunned. He hadn't expected to succeed. He hadn't even felt it happen.
It had felt like remembering something he'd never learned.
The vision faded slowly as resonance bled from his focus.
Lendric nodded.
"Good. Some of you saw. Some of you didn't. Doesn't matter. You reached for it. That's the first step."
He clapped once, the sound cracking across the courtyard.
"Now — today we duel. Five minutes per opponent. Then rotate."
He turned his head slightly.
"Mattethis."
A few students blinked — most hadn't even noticed the boy was standing nearby.
"Try using your burden today. Not just enduring it. Make it part of how you fight.
The essence of combat is to kill or be killed when fighting demons so keep that in mind."
Mattethis gave a small nod.
The teacher spoke taking everyones attention away from Mattethis and the feeling that something important had just left the room — even if no one could remember what. Except Lendric who always kept him in his peripheral vision.
Lendric passed out training swords and assigned use partners
I was versing Mattethis.
Then we started fighting.
Malakai faced Mattethis — a boy most students never remembered meeting, even though he'd been in their class from the beginning. His silver hair shimmered under the overhead lights, his posture calm and unreadable.
Lendric's voice cut across the courtyard.
"Begin."
Mattethis moved before Malakai could even blink — tossing a handful of grey resonance-chalk into the air. It bloomed into a blinding mist.
Malakai lifted an arm to block it — just for a second.
When he lowered it…
The arena was empty.
His brow furrowed.
Was it a test?
He looked at Lendric, who was scribbling something on his wrist again.
Malakai turned to Forn — but even she looked confused, eyes darting across the training circle like she was searching for something she couldn't name.
His fists lowered slightly.
Wait. Wasn't I…?
Pain exploded through his spine.
Malakai dropped to a knee with a grunt, something real striking him from behind — but there was nothing there when he spun around.
He clutched his ribs, breath ragged.
His mind raced.
What just happened?
He glanced down at the white chalky dust coating his jacket. Why was it there? Why was he injured? Why—
A presence flickered behind him again.
He whirled around — fast — and for the briefest flash, Mattethis came into focus, his face blank, almost apologetic.
Malakai's eyes widened.
Who—?!
Malakai staggered, his ribs throbbing with pain he couldn't place.
What's happening? Why am I—?
He shook the thought from his head and snarled.
The blade in his hand shimmered faintly as he raised it and swung wide, trying to keep his eyes locked on the flickering shape ahead — the half-there outline of Mattethis.
He didn't blink.
Didn't breathe.
If he lost sight of him for even a second…
But Mattethis was fast — faster than instinct.
He ducked under the sweeping blade, his motion fluid, ghost-like.
Then—crack.
A punch straight to Malakai's gut. Precision. Brutal. Unseen until the last second.
Air fled Malakai's lungs.
His knees buckled.
He collapsed onto the stone, gasping, weapon slipping from his fingers.
By the time his vision cleared…
Mattethis was gone.
No applause. No victory call. No memory.
Just the ringing in his ears and the strange ache of being defeated by someone he couldn't name.
"Mattethis wins."
Lendric's voice cut through the air like a knife.
Malakai blinked, trying to place the name — but it faded like smoke in sunlight.
"Switch!"
The next opponent stepped into the ring. Malakai stood slowly, trying to ignore the weight in his chest — and the haunting feeling that something had just slipped away.
" Mattethis stepped back, catching his breath with the ease of someone used to victory. His voice was composed, almost detached—like a judgment delivered by someone already two steps ahead.
"Malakai, you need a lot of work, but I'm sure you'll be strong in the future. It's hard to fight me with my burden, but you did as well as you could. I was just stronger."
He didn't gloat. He didn't need to. The calm certainty in his words carried more weight than mockery ever could.
Malakai shifted his stance, chest rising and falling as he tried to steady his breath. His eyes avoided Mattethis's for a moment, boots scuffing against the stone floor. He fumbled for a response, voice barely audible.
"Okay... um..." Malakai stutters still dazed
But Mattethis was already turning away, his final words slipping out with an indifferent shrug.
"Don't worry about it. My name doesn't really matter."
And just like that, he was gone—dissolving into the crowd like mist, leaving behind the strange, lingering feeling that he'd never truly been there at all.
Next was Forn.
She moved with that eerie, floating stillness that always made Malakai feel like he was watching someone half-sleepwalking through a war zone. Her eyes didn't blink often. Her breath didn't show in her chest. She just… stood there, waiting.
Malakai raised a hand as they faced off, brow furrowed.
"Before we start," he asked cautiously, "how did you know my alias—Sloth?"
Forn blinked once. Then silently pulled the small slate from her side, her marker scribbling with quiet urgency.
"Because you just told me then."
She turned it around and tilted her head, as if wondering if he'd even realize it.
Malakai paused. He hadn't said it out loud. Had he? The moment curled around him oddly, like a thought half-remembered.
Strange…
Lendric's voice cut cleanly through the air:
"Begin."
They fell into combat stance—hers compact and grounded, like water held in a bowl; his looser, more reactive, shifting weight between his legs.
Forn moved first, but not with speed—she simply was there, a sidestep placing her suddenly within arm's reach. Malakai barely had time to lift his forearm before her knuckles rapped against it, not hard, but deliberate. A test.
He exhaled sharply and pivoted, sending a wide strike toward her ribs—she ducked beneath it like mist sliding around a rock, her return jab grazing his side.
Malakai gritted his teeth, stepped back, then darted in low—this time he faked a wide sweep and snapped upward with his elbow.
It caught her. Lightly—just a glance against her shoulder—but it landed.
The shock hit him instantly. His breath hitched. He looked at her, wide-eyed. "Oh—wait. Are you okay? I didn't mean—"
Forn simply paused, reaching up to touch the spot. Then she tilted her head again, calm as ever. She didn't write anything this time. Just studied him, like he was more interesting now than he had been before.
Guilt punched through his chest. Why did that feel wrong?
Lendric's voice buzzed again, clipped and neutral:
"Switch."
Forn stepped back. Malakai remained still for a moment longer, hand still halfway lifted, caught between apology and awe.
Then she pulled her slate back out and began writing again. Her marker moved in swift, smooth lines.
"You don't use your hips when swinging. Pull with one hand, push with the other—it adds more power."
She held it up without expression, her eyes calm but focused.
Malakai blinked, then gave her a small, sheepish nod.
"Oh… thank you, Forn. I'll remember that."
She erased the board with a soft flick and moved away, off to fight neo, as if she hadn't just left him with something oddly important.
Malakai's next opponent was Daniel.
The boy cracked his neck and stepped forward with a swagger that seemed two sizes too big for his body. His hair was wild, eyes glinting like flint waiting for a spark.
"I'm not going to go easy on you," he said with a crooked, smug smile.
Malakai gave an awkward shrug, trying to ignore the tightness already forming in his gut. "Oh… okay."
Lendric didn't wait. His voice rang out like a bell.
"Start."
The change in Daniel was instant.
A blur of motion—he dashed forward like a predator unchained, red-tinted resonance coiling in his eyes. His blade flashed through the air, carving a sharp arc toward Malakai's chest.
Pain tore across his body.
Malakai barely had time to twist away as the blade slashed across his torso. It wasn't shallow. Hot blood stained his shirt and panic surged through his chest. He stumbled back, vision swimming.
But before he could fall—Voltix was there.
The spirit guardian crashed down like a veil of wind, arms spectral and wide. One hand landed firmly on Malakai's shoulder, the contact pulsing with a warmth that rushed through his body. The wound sealed with a ripple of light—and at the same moment, a crackling red orb of energy split off from Voltix, hurling itself toward Daniel like a summoned curse.
It slammed into his chest.
"Ouch!!" Daniel yelped, staggering as a mirrored wound flared open across his skin. He looked down at it in disbelief, then grinned like a madman.
The class gasped. A few even stepped back.
But Daniel wasn't deterred—he was delighted.
He let out a short laugh, sharp and breathless, then launched forward again. A whirlwind of slashes followed, each one fast and reckless. But Voltix intercepted every strike, his limbs moving like a storm around Malakai—blocking, parrying, shielding.
Daniel's smirk widened with every failed blow. He wasn't frustrated—he was loving it.
"This is not fun now!" he barked, eyes gleaming with feral joy. "Not bad, Sloth! Let's see what happens if I break your ghost!"
He twisted his grip and started striking Voltix directly, pouring more resonance into his blows, trying to overwhelm the guardian and Malakai together in a wild, brutal dance.
Then came the voice—calm, authoritative, slicing through the chaos:
"Malakai. Control your guardian."
Lendric didn't sound angry, just firm. But the meaning beneath the words was clear.
This wasn't a duel anymore. It was turning into something else. Something dangerous.
Daniel didn't care. If anything, he was thriving in the chaos.
His grin stretched wild across his face, sweat-slick hair clinging to his brow, eyes lit up with that terrifying blend of obsession and joy only battle junkies ever wore. He swung again—fast, reckless, furious.
But this time, the blade didn't make it.
It stopped inches from Malakai's throat, halted by an unseen force. A shimmer pulsed in the air, like the ghost of a shield.
Malakai's eyes widened. "I… I have residual step!" he breathed, realization striking like lightning.
He leapt back, boots skidding against the stone, and held one hand up in front of him. With a steady motion, he placed his pointer finger against his palm, thumb cocked like a trigger—
Click.
Reality buckled.
He vanished.
A breath later, he was behind Daniel—silent, surgical. His sword rested cold and sharp against the back of Daniel's neck.
Malakai's voice was low. Controlled.
"It's over."
Daniel froze.
Then slumped with a dramatic sigh.
"Awwww…"
He didn't sound disappointed—more like he'd just finished a great rollercoaster and was already ready for the next ride.
I commanded voltix to step back again and he did.
"Brother, you love battles way too much," one of the twins muttered under their breath, the one who couldn't lie. His tone was dry, but his smirk betrayed a flicker of admiration. The other twin just chuckled, not bothering to respond—his truth was written all over his posture: gleeful, unashamed.
Daniel raised both arms in mock victory, wincing through a bruised rib. "It's not my fault pain feels like proof I'm alive!"
A few more duels followed, each more intense than the last. Sparks flew. Blood sprayed. Spirits roared and flickered. But when the final match was announced, even the wind seemed to hush.
Malakai versus Neo.
No one said it, but they all leaned in.
Neo stepped into the arena like he belonged there—not arrogant, but grounded. His hand rested lightly on the hilt of his blade, his eyes calm, but alert.
He looked across at Malakai, and for a moment, it was like no one else existed.
"Hey friend," Neo called out, voice easy but sincere. "Try your best, alright? Don't hold back."
Malakai exhaled, tightening his grip on his sword. "You're really going to make me work for this, aren't you?"
Neo smiled faintly, one foot shifting back into a ready stance. "I'd be disappointed if you didn't make me bleed."
Voltix hovered behind Malakai, tense—his mist-like body quivering as though sensing a storm about to break. He didn't like this. Not because Neo frightened him, but because something in the fight didn't feel clean. It felt… destined. Or dangerous.
Then it began.
Their blades met in a crack of steel and heat. Movement blurred. Techniques layered. For a moment, they were equals—two echoes of different pasts clashing beneath academy lights.
Malakai saw his chance.
Residual Step activated.
He vanished and reappeared behind Neo in a flicker of distorted air. His blade was already coming down—fast, efficient, perfect.
But Neo didn't turn.
He felt it.
With mechanical timing, Neo slammed the pommel of his blade backward into Malakai's gut.
A thud. Air left Malakai's lungs in a sharp gasp. His knees hit the ground hard.
Neo stood over him—not triumphant, just still.
"You're improving," he said quietly. "But you're still thinking like someone who wants to win. Not someone who has to."
Malakai grimaced, trying to catch his breath. "You always talk in riddles when you win?"
Neo knelt beside him, voice low. "Only when I think the person I'm fighting might someday surpass me."
Voltix floated forward, eyes dim with concern. The match was over, but the lesson had just begun.
-
Without any of them sensing it, Tera had been observing from the shadows — not out of distrust, but curiosity, a predator's patience mingling with a recruiter's eye. When she stepped forward, it was with a confidence that silenced the low hum of post-duel chatter. Her boots struck the stone with deliberate weight, and her dark eyes flicked between the group like she already knew their answers.
She offered the kind of grin that meant trouble or opportunity — maybe both.
"So… how would you all like to form a cohort and take on a real job? Something off-record. Paid handsomely, of course."
Malakai straightened, instinctively moving in front of the others. Voltix drifted beside him, half-wary, half-curious.
He asked the question flatly, but not without interest. "What kind of job?"
By now, the others had gathered — the twins side by side, one trying to speak while the other visibly fought the urge; the silent girl scribbling something in a pocket-worn notebook; and the forgettable one, already slipping to the edge of awareness.
Tera didn't waste words.
"A western research station went dark. No response from their link to headquarters. Your task is to locate a Professor Neil and escort him safely back. That's all. Ten thousand credits each."
She let the number settle like a stone dropped in water — eyes watching their reactions, particularly Malakai's.
Then she added, with that same easy smile,
"Since you're inexperienced, HQ is assigning a commander from the Black Omen clan to accompany you. Try not to die."
Malakai hesitated, only for a breath. That… sounded dangerous. But fun. And with Voltix…
He glanced at the others, felt the unspoken thrill ripple through them like the first crack of thunder before a storm.
"Yeah. Sure. Sounds fun."
Nods followed. Quiet ones, determined ones. Even the silent girl held her notebook up — one word written in sharp marker: Yes.
Tera gave a satisfied nod, her eyes glinting with something between approval and calculation.
"High priority. Gather your gear and meet me at the eastern wing parking lot in one hour. Let's see if you're as worthy as you look."
Then, without waiting for questions, she turned and vanished into the corridor's shifting shadows — the kind only someone like her could walk through untouched.