The clang of steel from the training yard echoed faintly through the barracks, each strike sharp and mocking in Julius’s ears. He sat on the edge of his bed, hands resting on his knees, his shoulders hunched. Bruises ached beneath his sweat-soaked shirt, and the weight of his father’s sword beside him felt heavier than ever.

Outside, Virtues sparked like fireworks—lightning hissed, earth rumbled, and wind howled in sharp bursts of energy. Edward’s voice cut through the noise, barking commands with unrelenting authority. Julius could almost hear Aria pounding away at some poor training dummy, every strike strong enough to crack stone. And then there was Shane’s laughter—carefree, infuriating, like nothing in the world ever truly touched him.

Julius clenched his fists. Why can’t I unlock it? What’s wrong with me? The question gnawed at him, relentless, like a splinter in his mind.

The door creaked open.

Shane strolled in with his usual air of casual confidence, leaning against the frame. “I thought I’d find you here,” he said. “Hiding.”

“Go away, Shane,” Julius muttered, staring at the floor.

Shane didn’t budge. Instead, he dragged a chair over, flipping it backward to sit down, elbows resting on the top. “Not a chance. I’m not letting you wallow in here without a little company. That’s what friends are for.”

“Friends?” Julius shot him a glare. “Are you sure? Because you’ve been awfully quiet when Edward’s tearing me apart out there.”

Shane shrugged, unfazed. “Sometimes you’ve got to let people sink a little so they remember to swim.”

Julius groaned, rubbing his temples. “If this is a pep talk, Shane, you’re terrible at it.”

Shane grinned faintly but didn’t let it linger. His expression turned uncharacteristically sharp, like a knife concealed under layers of charm. “You’re an interesting one, Julius. You know that?”

“Not really the word I’d use,” Julius muttered.

“See, that’s the thing.” Shane leaned forward, his green eyes studying Julius like he was a puzzle worth solving. “You’re too quiet about yourself. You show up with that sword, carry all the whispers about your ‘traitor dad’ on your back like some badge of honor, and what do you do? You take it. Every insult. Every glare. Like you’ve earned it.”

Julius scowled. “What’s your point?”

“My point, Farm Boy, is that people don’t carry that kind of weight for no reason.” Shane tapped a finger against the chair’s edge. “There’s more to you, isn’t there? Something you’re not telling us.”

Julius stiffened. “What are you getting at?”

Shane tilted his head, the smirk softening into something more pointed. “I’m saying this doesn’t add up. Your dad was a traitor? That’s the rumor, right? Yet you’re here. A kid with no Virtue, swinging a relic of a blade like it’s going to fix the past. Why?”

Julius’s jaw tightened, his fists curling at his sides. “Because I’m trying to prove myself.”

“Yeah?” Shane leaned back. “And what are you proving? That you’re not like him? Or that you are?”

“Enough, Shane.”

Shane didn’t stop. “See, here’s what I think.” His voice lowered, sharp and dangerous. “You’re hiding something. Maybe not on purpose, but there’s something about you—something off. And I don’t mean that in a bad way.” He paused, studying Julius carefully. “Do you even know what it is yet?”

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Julius opened his mouth to retort but hesitated. A faint pressure stirred in the back of his mind, something old, something vast. It pulsed faintly like embers beneath his skin. He shivered but shook it off. “You’re wrong. I don’t know anything.”

Shane watched him for a long moment before exhaling and leaning back. “You know what?” he said, almost amused now. “You’re a terrible liar, Julius. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s how to spot someone who’s holding back. You? You’re holding back from yourself.”

“Why does it matter to you?” Julius snapped, his frustration spilling over.

Shane stood, stretching as if they’d been chatting about the weather. “Because we’re on the same team, and if something goes wrong, I want to know who I can trust. Right now, you’re looking like the biggest mystery in this Academy, Farm Boy.” He flashed his usual grin, though it lacked its normal lightheartedness. “But don’t worry. I’ve decided I like you, so you get a pass. For now.”

Julius didn’t reply, too thrown off by Shane’s unexpected insight. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Julius alone again, the silence ringing louder than before.

----------------------------------------

The training yard was less forgiving than the barracks. Julius swung his blade again and again, trying to channel his frustration into something useful. Each strike of his father’s sword was fast and heavy but crude, lacking the grace and control of the other trainees.

“Your form is atrocious,” came a voice behind him.

Julius turned to see Edward standing there, arms crossed, his blue eyes narrowing like he was assessing something broken.

Julius groaned. “What now?”

Edward approached, sword in hand, his posture impossibly straight. “If you’re going to swing that thing around, at least do it properly.”

Julius glared at him. “What do you care?”

Edward ignored the comment and gestured for Julius to ready his stance. “Raise your sword. Like this.”

At first, Julius hesitated. Edward was the last person he wanted advice from. But then, the pulse—faint but insistent—stirred again within him. Learn.

Gritting his teeth, Julius complied. Edward circled him slowly, tapping Julius’s hands and shoulders with the flat of his blade. “Your stance is too wide. That’s why your strikes are wild. Tighten it.”

“Like this?” Julius adjusted, though Edward scowled and nudged his arm.

“Not quite. The people of Xing have a saying: precision beats power. Don’t just swing—aim. Make every move count.”

Julius frowned, lowering his sword slightly. “You learned that from Xing?”

Edward’s expression softened, just for a moment, a shadow of something unreadable flickering behind his icy blue eyes. “From Ann Xing, actually. She taught me more than I care to admit.”

Julius tilted his head, curiosity flaring despite himself. “Princess Ann Xing? Of Xing?”

Edward nodded once, turning his gaze back to Julius. “Her kingdom values discipline above all else. A misplaced strike is worse than none at all. Every action has to have purpose.”

For a moment, Julius thought Edward might say more, but the prince’s expression hardened, that brief vulnerability gone as quickly as it had appeared. He leveled his blade again, this time gesturing toward Julius.

“Now stop flailing like you’re in a tavern brawl and start thinking. Where are you aiming? Why are you striking? If you’re too careless to answer that, you’re already beaten.”

Julius clenched his jaw, Edward’s words stinging more than he wanted to admit. But deep in his mind, he felt something stir—an ancient presence urging him forward.

Listen. Learn. Steel can break, but purpose can shape you.

Julius adjusted his grip and raised his sword again. This time, he aimed.

The two fell into a rhythm, Edward correcting Julius’s movements with the clinical precision of someone who had been shaped by years of royal training. At first, it felt like bullying—every misstep earned a sharp comment or a quick nudge with Edward’s blade. But gradually, Julius began to see the purpose behind it.

“Better,” Edward said finally, though his tone still carried its usual ice. “At least now you’re not embarrassing yourself.”

Julius wiped sweat from his brow, the pulse within him quieting slightly, satisfied. For the first time, he realized Edward wasn’t mocking him. He was teaching him.

“Why are you helping me?” Julius asked, his voice low.

Edward paused, his gaze unreadable. “Because you need it. And because a knight without control is no knight at all.”

Julius watched Edward walk away, his chest still heaving. For all his cold arrogance, Edward had shared something Julius could use. Something that would make him stronger.

Learn.

The whisper echoed again. Julius gripped the hilt of his sword tighter. For the first time in weeks, it felt like he was taking a step forward—even if he was still walking in someone else’s shadow.

For now, that was enough.