Ding… Ding… Ding…

The bell signaled in the distance for a new class to start, or perhaps for one to end. But he knew for certain that his second and last class for the day had been directed to begin. It was already afternoon after all, and all classes ended before evening, when it got dark.

Silas entered past a stone archway. It took a while to arrive at this destination considering it was on the other side of the academic district from where he had left. The district itself was larger than the other, the total space combined, double the expanse that the merchant and domestic areas had spanned. But the journey didn’t matter, only the destination.

He noticed how the space he had entered was left fairly open, with only large stone walls separating him from the views of students traversing on pathways outside. There was no roof, which allowed for a pleasant breeze to waft through the air. But he couldn’t help but smell something salty as the breeze pushed past him, the current streaming through the middle of the wide rectangular expanse.

His eyes drifted past the hedges and stone seats arranged in irregular intervals spread close to the walls throughout the open field, and to the source of the aroma lingering in his nose. There he saw the glaringly obvious group of students stretching on a large stone platform that elevated in the air a bit.

A taller man clad in black professor's garments stood to the side near them, holding both his arms with a stern expression as if displeased with everyone around him. But while everyone knew it was impossible to please him, they were always on their best behavior in front of him. He was as strict as he was stern after all.

Step, step, step.

He moved towards a small pile of stone steps that allowed one to reach the platform that elevated a meter from the grassy field. But he stopped before it, analyzing the weapon display case that held a mixture of wooden melee weapons and bows with blunt arrows. A tree sprung overhead to envelope everything nearby in shade, ensuring the weapons weren’t deteriorating in the sun.

After picking up a wooden sword and feeling the familiar heft it carried, he proceeded up the cool steps, a byproduct from being encased in shade all day. The professor didn’t bother to glance his way, even though he arrived just after the bell. Because as long as he hadn’t announced the class to start, he wasn’t yet late.

But it wasn’t easy to find a spot to integrate himself. Amongst the eager students stretching in preparation for the class, most were faces he had already met from the class before. Which included the boy that seemed insistent on pestering him throughout the day. While examining him, he dodged behind a group of unremarkable students, staying out of his line of sight.

‘From what I’ve gathered from his friend, the little guy wishes to compensate his stature for standing. While his strength may only be adequate, he can’t blossom with a stronger contendant in both strength and position in his class. That’s his group's leader, and Kiyah. But such a goal seems easily swayed if I remove one from the mix, and pit him against the other. It’d be interesting to see the face she makes when her disposable dog turns against her. Speaking of which…’

While fitting in by touching his toes, he looked up and scanned around the room for Kiyah, yet she wasn’t to be found. He instead switched over to arm stretches and continued his search from a higher position, only to be interrupted by the professor beginning the class.

“Alright, everyone pair up and find an isolated space. If you can’t find a buddy within a minute, stand behind me”

Yet only a few seconds passed before he and the professor both turned their attention to the voices that echoed from whence he came. Entering through the archway marched a group of male students, led by a single lean girl. That girl had purple hair, but the professor was more fixated on her relaxed demeanor.

“You’re late”, he scowled.

“...”

But since the head of the group refused to speak, neither did the trio of boys that followed. They were well trained, it seemed.

“5 laps around, stat”

Yet his authoritative voice proved conspicuous, as she finally diverted her attention from in front of herself, peering over at him.

‘Did she wait for me behind the dorms?’

Silas couldn't help but reminisce about the display from earlier today. And that thought proved amusing, as he found a small chuckle escaping his lips. He was sure to let the expression linger in the hope that she would observe it. But as he scrutinized her, she never returned equal attention. She seemed to purposefully avoid all eye contact with him, despite being easily visible from her disposition.

Did she not see him in the crowd? Surely one of her standing wouldn’t tolerate her authority provoked. Yet she proceeded to ignore him, keeping her ambivalent blank countenance as she gazed at the professor. Which made it difficult for anyone to accurately discern her motives.

“Are you questioning me?”

His inquiry only served to trigger a small sigh from her as she nodded at the goons behind her. Such blatant disrespect triggered the professor, but he only gritted his teeth as the group took to a jog around the yard.

“Make that 10”, the professor then declared.

But as his demeanor calmed, he was just about to redirect his attention until suddenly another student walked through the archway. And as if rekindling his fury. He shouted once more.

“20 laps! Don’t be late again”

“Huh? Do you think these legs can-”

“Are you questioning me?”

But as if to confirm Silas’s question from earlier, the newly arrived peered past the professor, over to Silas. It was clear he was visible from that angle. They stared for a while before he drooped his shoulders, lamenting his fate.

“Fuck… No”, Tendan split his attention to the other group that had a headstart on him, sighing before making an effort to converge with them.

‘Actually with Kiyah briefly out of the picture, now’s the best time to try this…’, he gazed over at Cyanide, the small statured student, as he revealed himself from behind a group of people.

He pressed his wooden crutch against the ground with more force as if to seek more attention while roving onwards. But the act worked, as some students looked over to him. One specifically who was familiar with the sound, turned around immediately. He was paired with his taller friend from earlier in the hallway. But now that he saw him, he strutted over immediately. But he didn’t make it in time.

“U-um, excuse me”, a timid voice entered his ears.

Silas turned to face the pink haired girl seeking his attention. Probably for a quick alliance to be made amongst the weak. But he didn’t wish to remain with such a demographic. He ignored her, his crutch aiding as his feet took another step forward. He didn’t get far before a hand tapped on his shoulder.

“Hey. You me, whaddya say?”

Yet he didn’t even bother paying attention to the unfamiliar voice, as he shrugged off the grip. He wouldn’t perform amongst the weaker of the students, seeking to duel him due to being easy pickings and visibly injured. If he was to be acknowledged as a higher class individual, he’d need to involve himself amongst those of a similar stature. And besides all that, he had business to conduct with a particular student, to be conveyed in the most unorthodox of ways.

“Have you finally decided to submit to me?”, he spoke with a haughty air of authority, no doubt to quell his recent grievances.

“If you beat me in a duel”, Silas got straight to the point.

“Pfft, you’ve gone nuts right? Or you so cocky after Phil conveniently had a stroke”

‘I mean it’s pretty obvious that wasn’t a coincidence, I’m just surprised a nobody like Tendan got that. But he’s packing less muscle than everyone else, perhaps that’s a reason he uses his head more’

It was surprising how commonly body cultivators preferred to brute force problems, or at least from what he’d seen. Then again, he never was subjected to the higher class of nobility, even Kiyah was only from a marquis family. But she did have a relatively high standing at school, being an executive of the Grismere faction. 1 of 3 from that faction, with authority only lower than its head.

Silas sighed, “do you want the chance to beat me or not?”.

“Of course I do”, he sneered as he looked up at him.

“But what about me?”, his taller friend from earlier tapped on his shoulder.

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“I dunno, but frick off. Go join Tendan when he’s done”, though in saying his name he couldn’t help but glimpse at him struggling to keep up with everyone else.

“I doubt he’d be a capable opponent by then”, Silas mused with his head tilted.

“Shut it, no one asked”

“Has everyone gathered in pairs? Good, then get in position and showcase the techniques you’ve been practicing. Everyone knows the rules. No magic, and on the count of 3, we start”, the professor announced.

All paired students moved a few meters apart from their opponent, as was standard practice. The platform they stood on was fairly large, allowing for them to distribute into sections of approximately 10 meters squared, each.

“Alright, Three”

“You ready to eat some pavement?”

“...”

“Two”

‘I’ve barely trained with swords before, and anything recent I may have learned is unusable due to memories. I’ll have to rely on the vague fencing lessons I received on Earth… Though I probably should have acquired a thin blade instead of a thick one then’, he examined the wooden sword and shield held in his opponents hands.

“On- Wait. You over there, uh… Loghan?”

“Yes…?”

‘He actually tried to remember my name? But no one was normally worth his attention’

“You’re using a stick in your offhand, why?”

“I…”, ‘is he concerned about me? No way would he ever’, “injured my leg over the weekend”

“Then you’re not fit to-”

“Professor, he’s beaten up Phil last class so I’m sure he’s-”

“Who’s that?”

“The best fighter in this class…”, Cyanide murmured.

‘Well he sure is enthusiastic to come to my defense’

“Hm, well are you up for it then?”

“Yes…”

“Then 1. Go”

Shouts and footsteps stampede around him, but his attention drew to the louder source that pressed towards him, encompassed by the dust they kicked off the ground. Who knew someone of such small stature could carry footsteps that resounded with such substantial weight. Yet as he neared he couldn’t help but stand on guard in quiet contemplation.

‘Phil in the infirmary had an endurance around the rank of Dark Bronze or possibly higher. Surely this guy is lower as Phil’s the better fighter. Considering endurance is the easiest to cultivate amongst most cultivators since it can increase naturally by working out, that should be the highest stat most in this class have. Though in so saying, that was my weakest…’

‘My abilities approximate in the steel rank, which is generally perceived as the max that non cultivators can achieve naturally. Of course that’s not how I achieved it, but regardless, in this fight I’m contending against a rank of difference maximum, and with a difference of techniques that probably favor him too’, he sighed.

‘I can’t take him head on, but I’ve no choice. Dodging and deflection is my only hope…’

Cyanide spanned the distance in no time, and with momentum on his side, he took great pride in attempting to land the first blow swiping up at him with his sword. While many called him small, he was only 5’2, and could still easily reach all the lethal areas with his weapon.

Silas drew a quick breath before he took a step to the side, wincing as he moved his injured foot on its own. He used his sword to deflect the opponents, while stabbing at his side with the end of his stick. But such an action was easily blocked by Cyanides' shield.

Silas disengaged by drawing a step back as he unlocked his weapon from the opponents embrace. But Cyanide remained persistent, as he immediately drove forward, slashing his shield in an unrefined offensive manner.

Silas didn’t dare attempt to block such a force with his stick, instead attempting to offset the weight with his sword once again. But the heft proved too mighty as he was pushed back off balance, his arms flailed in the air. A sword aimed for his throat like a viper, but his stick countered midair, wedging its place in between, the force still pushing Silas to the side as he twirled to the ground, but landed on his knee.

Cyanide’s momentum ceased for a moment, as if taking pleasure in mocking him. Making it clear he never saw him as an equal, he spat at Silas as he knelt, pleased that he finally belonged to a lower stature than him.

“You know, you should grovel on the ground more often. It suits you”, he snickered.

“As long as I’m not groveling before someone”

“Haha, and yet here you are before me”

“Yet here you are before Kiyah”, he sighed as he stood, watching the group led by Kiyah, still jogging in the distance with his peripherals.

He was annoyed by such a forced interaction, but for the sake of the greater plan, he bottled his emotions and persevered.

“I know why you’re sucking up to her, obeying her every word like an obedient puppy but-”

“Know your place!”

The boy's face flushed red and he rushed towards him once more like a raging bull. The shield came first once again, as if intent on using the same movement that worked last time. But with more distance than the time before, he instead prompted to dodge it, succeeding in the attempt, but he faced the sword next as the shield was brought back along his side. Such a technique promoted well rounded robustness, leaving him with few gaps to be exploited.

‘Not that I can exploit them anyway, if only I had something thinner but long like a rapier, to pass his defense. But my stick will have to do…’

He deflected the sword again with his own. It seemed that was all he trusted to deflect the weight of any of his opponents attacks. Such an obvious weakness would have been exploited by any other. Perhaps when in his right mind Cyanide may have picked up on it, but even then he didn’t seem to be the brightest.

He pressed on with more weight to his weapon, while moving his body closer to Silas. By sheer strength alone he was able to push Silas back. It was a little comical as the smaller one pushed back the larger. Like a scene between David and the Goliath. Yet the roles were reversed here.

Silas gritted his teeth as he applied his stick to the mix, pushing with both hands to counter his opponent's single wooden blade. With a few seconds in deadlock, he knew the shield would next attempt to ram his stomach. But he opted to use this precious time to converse. An act he would never have committed under normal circumstances.

“If you’re so keen on wagging your tail in front of your master, at least understand who you’re bowing to”

Bam.

The shield came and hit him as he predicted, but he jumped back lessening the damage caused, though still forcing a few coughs out of him as he fell backwards. But on attempting to keep his ground, the pain in his leg flared up and he bent the knee again after losing his balance. His opponent's unlocked blade descended upon him again.

He leapt out of the way to the side, with his sword overhead, deflecting the incoming threat in a desperate attempt to whack him with his stick. He succeeded and knocked the boy forward a bit. But the stick didn’t pack much of a punch. Still, the maneuver allowed him time to gain a footing, while Cyanide turned around and charged once more.

A flurry of blows were exchanged, most were avoided or countered by him as he was pushed back incessantly. Had they not been using wooden equipment, he would have gathered wounds opening pathways for blood to spill. Or perhaps he may have had an easier time, the heft he needed to counter from each attack being lowered due to the thinner distribution of steel as composed to the density of wood. Each blow sustained reminded him that he needed to dodge more and deflect less, but his lack of combat experience showed in how difficult he found it to counter his opponents movements.

‘I’d try to gain distance if I could to dodge more often, but his agility and strength combined gives him too much burst speed to catch up to me. I’d opt to tire him out, but despite exerting himself more, I’m still likely to be the first to exhaust’

He was upset with the limits on his body. On Earth he made sure it remained in peak condition in order to enact his revenge. Here however, his other half didn’t seem committed to such a practice. Though he knew that to be a lie, mere copium to redirect his own inadequacies. It was from a lack of talent that he couldn’t keep up. While a bookworm that didn’t work out, he never ceased his training in body cultivation. He deflected another attack.

“You’re using Kiyah while she’s in a tough spot to gain standing, but why not cease the entirety of the initiative?”, he tried to clarify.

“Quit speaking as if you know shit. I’m under no misconception of yearning for the impossible”

He threw his shield at Silas again, but pulled back as a feint. His blade descended once more, this time too fast for him to deflect it, the wooden end slamming against his face as a result. Blood leaked from his nose as he fell backwards, but he maintained a grip on his weapons, using the stick to keep himself up straight. He swiped quickly at the blood from his nose.

“You’re lacking ambition”

But the boy beared upon him again.

“I just know my limits”

They exchanged attacks once more, but it was only a one sided display. Yet Silas remained steadfast in enduring any of the impacts against him. He was used to enduring this much on the daily, despite his body not being able to keep up. He trembled between bated breaths as he pushed himself further beyond.

“But not the limits of the path ahead”, he tried to retort after dodging once.

“What nonsense are you spouting now”

He blocked the shield attacking him, attempting to finish his sentence before the blade descended upon him again.

“The Grismere faction will crumble soon, your efforts will all go down in waste”

“What?”, his attack faltered, which allowed for Silas to pull back quickly, dodging the blow.

Exploiting the moment of confusion, he pistoned his stick forward, an unexpected attack as he had never instigated an offense with his fragile stick yet. But Cyanide blocked it all the same with his sword, he even applied extra strength while deflecting it downwards, in an attempt to break it, thus removing one of his defensive tools.

Silas countered using the expected momentum by flicking the stick, riposting it as he redirected it around the sword. While his opponent's sword plunged downwards, he lunged forward as the stick bypassed the shield that attempted to protect himself, landing on his opponent's eye.

“Frrric-”, Cyanide yelped while recoiling, halting his swords advance. With a gush of strength, he slashed it upwards to defend himself.

But sensing the opportunity, Silas dropped the stick and leapt forward, keeping his sword close to his chest. With his freed hand he lowered the shield, springing past it, flicking his upper body to avoid the incoming sword. Such close proximity wasn’t something Cyanide expected with his blindside being exploited. He couldn’t see Silas anymore, only the wood blade that entered his vision.

Smack.

The sword flicked past the bridge of his nose, slamming into his forehead, encapsulating his eye. The boy recoiled hard, flipping backwards after losing his balance. He landed on his ass, but his weapons held firmly within his grasp. He grimaced at Silas, and prepared to mount the defensive while trying to get back up.

But the expected attack never came.

“You fucker you’re spouting bullshit to get under my skin”, he bellowed while climbing to his knees.

He didn’t like reciprocating the humiliation that he had previously displayed. Little did he know, he was only given such a chance because of a greater purpose. Even if Silas wanted to go on, his body was on the verge of collapsing. Between a few pants, he took a quick moment of respite as he reaffirmed.

"No, I speak truth", he glanced at Kiyah and gang stretching after having finished their laps. Yet Tendan continued laboring away, their breaths more rugged than his own.

“Just let me explain why…”, ‘before this info becomes unprofitable’