A routine. Demund’s daily life was a routine.

He got up from bed, put on his clothes, his prosthetic, etc., etc. Went down to eat, read a little, went to school, came back, read some more, ran with Enariss. Did homework, reviewed for tests, lived diligently without any additional sources of entertainment.

However, when he awoke from his dream, his memories of reality crashed into him, making his life in the other world seem distant. While he was in reality, the other world was in fact, a dream.

Demund stared out the window on his way back from school. Enariss was texting someone on her phone, her attention focused on her electronic device. Demund didn’t mind. He was thinking about the book he had finished recently. No; finished three times. The book that the librarian had recommended—the story of a man named Setsuan Milikue and his journey of ice.

It resonated with him. The tragic life of this man who had pushed through to the end. Who had lost both his arms but had managed to find himself again with the help of his to-be wife.

Demund peeked a glance at Enariss. He could say he was in a similar situation. A lost limb and a girl who was helping him recover.

He silently shook his head. His teenage mind was being too impulsive. It was better if he didn’t expect anything.

“Something wrong?” asked Enariss. Her red eyes looked into his.

“Not really,” Demund casually replied. “It’s just that there are an awful lot of posters outside lately.”

Like Demund had said, posters had started popping up within the past few days. They were mostly concentrated around the school where passersby would see them going in and out of the campus of TISE High. Something along the lines of, ‘My child hasn’t returned,’ or ‘The truth will always come to light’.

“Wonder what they are?” said Demund.

“My dad says it’s all nonsense,” said Enariss. “Something to tear money and profits off from the world government. He wouldn’t tell me the details, but it likely has something to do with the Islands.”

“The Preliminary Islands?”

“Yep. See the bottom of those posters?”

Demund hurriedly inspected the area where Enariss had indicated. Before the car passed by, he caught a glimpse of a very familiar circle. Just to make sure, he glanced at another poster. A circle with a hole at the center, with three lines coming out from it. It had the same design.

“Isn’t that the logo of the Islands?” Demund was very aware of the symbol that stood for the Islands. He had longed for it so much one time. “But why does it have a red line through it?”

“I don’t know. Someone obviously has a problem with the Islands.”

“But everyone wants to go to the Islands.”

Enariss shrugged. “According to my dad, it’s better not to think much about it.”

The Islands…now that he thought of it, he hadn’t heard from Jothan in a long time. The semester was coming to an end within two months, so he would hear from him soon. Then suddenly, a very curious thought struck his mind. Something he had abstained, no, forgotten to ask since he saw Enariss in action.

“Hey, Ena. What rank are you?”

“Hmm? I’m A. Or A+.”

Demund tilted his head in confusion.

“How come you’re not at the Islands?”

Enariss froze. She lowered her eyes then put her hands slowly together, repositioning herself on the seat to be more comfortable.

“My…mother passed away. I thought it would be better to stay with my dad. He was…”

She trailed off, and Demund realized he had breached on something personal and sensitive. He immediately lowered his head to Enariss.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“Stop. It’s all past events anyway,” stated Enariss. She pushed her hair back and returned to her phone. “My dad didn’t want me to go, so here I am. I guess it was worth it since I met you.”

Demund’s eyes lit up. Sometimes Enariss just blurted out things like that in a very lax, easygoing manner. He honestly didn’t know what to think of them as a normal friend could say the same thing.

Demund smiled and repositioned his body. “Thanks.”

“No problem. But today, we’re running faster and doing some jumps. Got it?”

“Got it.”

〄 〄 〄

Demund loved books. They helped him think, reimagine his life in a different manner. How had certain people overcome their hardships? How had they dealt with changes in their life? Milikue, for example, had pushed through with his supernatural ability, honing it until it literally became his limbs—made out of ice. Dane Luckter, however, was a man without any SAP. He defeated his obstacles with his mind, his quick wit, and his refusal to give in to those above him.

Honestly, the latter was much more difficult to read. So many philosophical questions, so many sentences that stretched on and on. He could actually read and understand his books sufficiently now, but the prior was still more entertaining. More action, more things one expected to see from a superhero.

Currently, he was doing something different.

He set down a copy of Self-Defense for the Disabled on the floor and made sure his prosthetic was in prime condition. He didn’t have ice-powers that could let him conjure limbs. His brain wasn’t as genius as the author of countless books. But he had the endurance. He had a nasty persistence, the refusal to give up.

And he had his dream world. Always there for him, always supporting him with new and exciting things, filled with beautiful people. In Demund’s world, the amount of SAP you possessed correlated with your outer appearance. Not always, but most of the time. The people who were classed higher had better features and physical abilities.

Perhaps mana was similar to that. Since it was an extension of his mind, the laws of reality possibly seeped into the dream. Not that he was complaining.

He extended his cane and inspected it. The book had stated that it was important to possess a weapon. Something disguised if possible, something he could carry around within his daily life.

Frankly, it wasn’t a very helpful book. He had picked it because of the title without giving it a second glance, but all it talked about was the mentality you had to possess. Just inspirational sayings that made you feel better about yourself. How you shouldn’t let others push you over.

Yes, it was a book about disabled in a more mental sense. And at the end, the book stated, ‘seek help from a nearby instructor if you are being oppressed’.

Demund swung his cane. Theoretically, he knew how to dodge now. Feeling the flow of the sword right as it swung at you was extremely important. But would it work with his current body?

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

He couldn’t do anything else than to improve his muscles. He also didn’t have enough time to actually train a martial art; it was the end of the year, and finals week was soon to come. The last months were the most important. He had to focus on studying.

〄 〄 〄

“Control your mana!” shouted Instructor. “Make the flow constant; remember the sensation while you were meditating!”

“Yes!” Shaden breathed out while dodging Mistilia’s overhead blow. He stepped to the side and retaliated with a side-slash, but the quick wolf girl ducked the swing and aimed a kick at Shaden’s legs.

Shaden was blown to the side as his balance toppled over. However, he was still not done. Focusing mana on his right arm, he landed on his fist and pushed back. The force of his motion accelerated his body back up, and he swiftly raised his stick just in time to intercept Mistilia’s next strike.

If it were him before awakening, the stick would have been yanked away from his hand by the sheer power of Mistilia’s side slash. However—

Shaden held his ground and forced his wrist to maintain a defensive position. He increased his mana flow and pushed back at the girl, cementing their position in a sword-lock. With his left hand, he pushed away an incoming fist and kicked Mistilia on her thigh. With a wince of pain, the girl jumped to the side and landed on all four limbs.

Suddenly, in a small fit, she tossed her sword to the side. Her tail spiked up in aggression, and the air around her changed. Shaden spotted a very faint red mist seeping out from her body. The wolf growled, her yellow eyes glowing with excitement.

“Mistilia, this is a swordfight. It’s better if you—”

“No,” interjected Shaden while raising his stick. “I want to do this.”

Mistilia licked her lips in anticipation and smiled, her white canines gleaming. “You aren’t afraid?”

“No.” Shaden took on a comfortable stance, positioning his weapon between himself and the girl. “Come at me.”

Letting out a sound that was between a laugh and a snarl, Mistilia dashed at Shaden on all fours with her claws bared, sidestepping to throw off Shaden’s eyes. Yes—she had claws. Shaden didn’t understand beastman biology, but apparently, they could grow claws when they needed them. Or they were hidden under their skin. He wasn’t sure.

The girl was incredibly fast, almost three times her normal speed. Shaden increased his mana flow and focused on her movements.

Suddenly, she jumped into the air and flew straight at Shaden. He tightened his grip on his stick and braced himself at the incoming figure.

First came the kick. Shaden barely managed to slide it across his weapon, and the pressure of the attack made his arms scream. It wasn’t exactly pain, but his muscles felt like they would rip. Both of his arms had been focused on blocking the first kick that he almost didn’t notice the claw that headed directly at his face.

In a sort of slow-motion thought processing, Shaden knew he wouldn’t be able to block the blow fast enough with his hands. They were gripping the sword, which was being pressed down by the kick. But through his mana-sensing, he felt an opening. An area where Mistilia’s mana wasn’t focused, where he could suffer the least damage.

She was coming in with a side claw-sweep. To avoid it, Shaden moved his body slightly to the front, ducking his head simultaneously while he did so. He felt his hair being brushed by something fast, and he knew he had dodged it.

*CRACK*

“OWWWWW!” cried Shaden and Mistilia at the same time. Because Shaden had moved at the last second, Mistilia had been thrown off. But her momentum pushed her forward, making her chin bash against Shaden’s exposed head.

They both fell on the floor, clutching their respective areas in pain.

The Instructor chuckled and shook his head, his arms crossed. “Very good! Very good. That was a splendid fight. However, you must continue to hone your sword-skills, Mistilia. At this rate, Shaden will overtake you.”

“I know,” the wolf girl said while rubbing her chin. She sat down on the floor cross-legged, her fluffy tail swishing behind her.

She knew Shaden’s progress better than anyone else. She had seen him rise from a pathetic kid to someone who could actually spar with her. In just nine months. And ever since his awakening, she felt like she was slightly falling behind.

Even with her unarmed skills, she couldn’t fully overpower him.

Shaden was still on the floor, holding his head while miniscule tears formed in his eyes. What did Mistilia consume to make her bones so strong? It had felt like he had been struck with a hammer.

He would have used magic, but his Instructor recommended him not to. During a real battle, there would rarely be a chance to relieve your pain while your enemies tried to kill you. He gritted his teeth and got up from the floor.

“I’m okay!” he declared, mostly telling himself.

Mistilia walked over to him and pat his head. She was a head taller than him, and he winced in pain as her rough hands carelessly brushed his hair.

“Ow, stop, ow,” said Shaden. He had the feeling she was seeing him as a little brother, which bothered him a little. Sometimes she bossed him around; other times she treated him equally.

“You whine too much,” she stated, pursing her lips. “In the wild, no one will care if you are screaming or crying. Okay?”

“Okay…?” replied Shaden.

Shaden yelped as Mistilia gave him a little chop on his head with her hand.

“Get used to it.” Without saying another word, she headed over to her stick and picked it up.

“Instructor, can we begin now?”

“Anytime Shaden is ready.”

Shaden massaged his head and sighed. “Alright, alright, I’m ready.” He shook his head to numb the pain and clutched his stick once more.

It was time to train with the Instructor himself.

〄 〄 〄

Shaden and Mistilia both fell on the floor, covered with sweat and muscles aching. The Instructor swept his sword to the side, flicking off grime and liquids off of its wooden frame.

“Already finished?” he asked. He stretched his back and stifled a yawn.

Shaden was exasperated. He could never touch the Instructor no matter how much he tried. The best strike he had achieved was blocked with the Instructor’s foot, and it had happened with Mistilia’s help. Shaden felt overwhelming mana inside of him, but it wasn’t effective for some reason.

“How?!” he cried. He still felt unstoppable. He didn’t lack mana at all. But no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t land a hit.

“Skills, kid. I’ve got it, you don’t.”

That was the problem. But the problem did not have a solution.

“Why do you never teach us?”

Instructor Reedock shrugged. “Kids under eight aren’t supposed to be taught martial arts. That’s just the rule around here. Just train your body for the future.”

“My parents taught me skills at my village!” stated Mistilia.

“This isn’t your village. And girl, you can start learning in a few months. Why the rush?”

Mistilia pouted her cheeks out and rolled on the floor. Shaden felt the same. But he was in the middle of a greater concern.

“I need to do nothing but strength training for two years?”

“According to the rules, yes.”

Shaden drooped on the floor. He really didn’t want to stand around and do nothing.

“Instructor…can I move up the grade with Misty?”

The Instructor turned his head and eyed Shaden. “Why so?”

“I feel like I can go up. I mean, I’m not completely losing to Misty either. And I really, really want to start learning techniques.”

Shaden’s eyes were full of confidence and determination. The Instructor scratched his rough beard and looked up.

“Hmm…perhaps if you ask the Headmistress, she will allow it.”

“Really?”

“You have great potential kid. You deserve to go up.”

Shaden let out a pleased smile.

“But if you want to, you can’t stay on the floor like this. Get up.”

Both Shaden and Mistilia groaned as they got off the floor. If only he could use healing magic…he would be flying around feeling perfect. Using only circulation to keep himself going consumed a lot of stamina. Especially when you were fighting someone of a much higher level than yourself.

Shaden began circulating, this time at a gentler pace. A slow, steady circulation helped him recover his energy, he had discovered.

The trio left the room to run around the city.

〄 〄 〄

“Your students seem like a wonderful bunch.”

Instructor Pinec poured Basalm a cup of fermented fruit drink. He was aware that Reedock had been abstaining from alcoholic beverages ever since his new students had arrived. Basalm gladly took the cup, emptied in one giant swig, and relaxed on his chair.

“This is some good stuff,” he said while looking at the empty cup. “Just enough alcohol but too little to affect me. Where did you obtain this?”

“An import from Cantaronia from last month’s shipment,” said Instructor Pinec. “I got my hands on some for my students who said they wanted to try out some drinks. More?”

Basalm nodded, and Teth poured him another cupful. Teth was around a decade younger than Basalm; his decent looks and beautiful skill with his rapier made him popular within the Academy. His blonde hair was always waxed back, revealing his white forehead with a widow’s peak.

“My students…looks like they’ll both go up next year,” said Basalm. He looked at his cup and took a small sip, savoring the taste on his tongue.

“Isn’t the boy only six years old?”

“You are correct. But he is skilled. His growth is unbelievable.”

Basalm emptied his cup again, looking up in expectation. Teth shook his head, and Basalm grunted.

“It’s still alcohol. Too much is too much.”

Instructor Pinec’s steel blue eyes looked at Basalm with slight concern. The old man was always so lax when his students weren’t nearby. A bad habit, if he would say.

“The constant presence that I have been feeling. Is it one of your students? Perhaps the boy?”

Basalm raised his head at the unexpected question.

“Like I said, he has much talent.”

“I see.”

Teth got up from his seat and picked up his rapier, strapping it to his side.

“I must go now. Class begins soon. What will you do?”

“Who knows.”

After giving Instructor Reedock a brief nod, Teth exited the resting room and closed the door behind him. Such talented children…it would be a pleasure if they joined his class next year.

But the decision always lay within the Headmistress’s will.

He took a deep breath. For now, he would do his best to help his students blossom into beautiful flowers. Everyone had the right to be realized. To let a flower rot away due to the lack of care was the worst thing that could possibly happen.

So like always, he would do his best.