Aric sat there, feeling the weight of the silence around him. Determined to regain his strength, he resolved to start training immediately. He took a deep breath, remembering his master’s teachings, and began to slow down his heart rate, focusing his mind as if he were submerged in water. Gradually, Aric felt a sense of calm wash over him. He placed his hand on the ground, holding himself up, and started to practice the same forms that he had used in the duel. For some reason, the power that his master had talked about had shown itself in his sword style in that duel, and he couldn’t lose it again. He slightly modified the forms one by one, altering each to his style. The void was the lack of, and with each move, he planned to slightly give himself an advantage with shaky and unconventional movement, limiting his opponents.

After a few minutes of focusing his energy, Aric attempted to push himself up with one hand. His arms trembled, but he managed to complete one. Encouraged by this small success, he continued, pushing himself to do more. Each push-up was a struggle, but he kept going until his body felt numb. Aric thought back to the strain he was feeling. Though his muscles burned, he realized the thrill he once felt was missing. Determined to regain that sense of exhilaration, he submerged himself deeper into the training. He shifted from push-ups to practicing the sword forms again.

The motions were fluid, powerful, and not lacking. However, the lack of flexibility he had was a severe hindrance to forms that were meant to symbolize water itself. Finally, Aric opened his eyes and saw the empty classroom around him. Dust motes floated lazily in the afternoon light, the room echoing with memories of the day's events. He glanced at the desk and decided to challenge his balance further.

Taking a deep breath, he leaped onto the desk, landing with a light thud. The surface wobbled slightly under his weight, but he quickly steadied himself. From this higher vantage point, he resumed his stances, focusing on maintaining balance while executing precise movements. Each pose was held with intention, each transition smooth and controlled.

Aric felt himself sinking deeper into his own consciousness, the unsettling sensation of dark forces enveloping him. The familiar calm of his focused state gave way to a more ominous presence—a void filled with black strings that wrapped around his limbs like a puppeteer's control. Each movement, each breath felt restricted, as if he were struggling against invisible bonds that resisted his every effort. Instead of the sword forms, he found himself struggling against himself.

The water that once symbolized his focused state turned murky and thick, hindering his movements and pulling him deeper into this unsettling darkness. Every attempt to perform his training forms was met with resistance, the black strings tightening their grip with each exertion.

As Aric continued to struggle against this unseen force, he felt the strain on his muscles and the frustration of not being able to move as freely as he desired. This was the reality he faced—his own energy and limits manifesting in a way that threatened to overwhelm him.

Just as he felt the darkness closing in, the sound of boots echoed in the distance. It snapped Aric out of his trance-like state, jolting him back to reality. His eyes snapped open, and he took a sharp breath, grateful that something had distracted him before he could be consumed by the threads that had grabbed him.

In that moment of clarity, Aric saw Maki entering the room, a plate slipping from her hands. Reacting instinctively, he leaped from the desk where he had been practicing, toppling it over in his haste. His right hand shot out, catching the falling plate in a swift motion.

The room fell silent as Aric stood there, his heart still racing from the intensity of his inner struggle moments ago. Maki stared at him in surprise, her eyes wide with astonishment, but seemingly not even focused on him.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

"W..W...What is that?!" she finally managed to ask, her voice tinged with panic.

The room around him seemed to fade as Aric became acutely aware of a dark, swirling fog that enveloped his hands and body. It was an unsettling sight, as if shadows had momentarily taken form around him. Alarmed, Aric focused his mind and it dissipated.

Aric hesitated, unsure how to explain the strange phenomenon he had just experienced. The darkness that had enveloped him, the black strings that seemed to restrict his movements—it was all too surreal.

Before he could form a coherent response, Maki's voice interrupted his thoughts again, though this time it was meek. "I'm... I'm sorry for dropping your food," she murmured, her gaze falling to the ground.

Aric blinked, the intensity of the moment fading as he realized the plate he had caught was his lunch. He hadn't even noticed before how hungry he felt, the physical exertion and mental strain taking their toll on him. Without a word, Aric sank into a nearby chair, setting the plate down in front of him. He wasted no time in devouring the food, his movements brisk and mechanical. Each bite brought a fleeting sense of nourishment, but he couldn't shake the inexplicable fatigue that weighed heavily on him.

As Aric finished devouring his food, he glanced over at Maki. She sat across from him, her food untouched, staring blankly at her plate. Concern creased his brow as he realized she hadn't eaten a morsel since they started their meal.

"Maki, is everything alright?" Aric asked, his voice soft yet laced with concern.

She blinked, as if snapped out of a trance, and looked up at him. "I... I'm sorry, Aric," she stammered, her voice wavering slightly. "I'm just... processing everything. It's a lot to take in."

Aric nodded understandingly. "I know it's a shock. I should have told you sooner. I used a Mendaciti Caster." He flashed his arm, and the bracelet materialized. After a few seconds, he turned its invisibility back on.

Maki took a deep breath, visibly trying to compose herself. "No, it's not just that," she admitted, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. "It's everything that's been happening. With Laric, with you... the final exams…."

Aric listened quietly, his own thoughts swirling with everything that had transpired. "I understand," he said finally. He squeezed her hand reassuringly before withdrawing his own. "You should eat," Aric suggested gently, nodding towards her untouched food. He had just remembered about the final exams before graduation.

Taking a few more seconds, Aric asked her a question that he had for a while, "Weren't you the first placer last year for the final exams?”

Maki's expression softened, a hint of sadness crossing her features as she nodded silently.

"Is that why you were crying that day?" Aric pressed gently, his eyes narrowing with concern.

Maki let out a soft, sad laugh, her eyes reflecting a mixture of emotions. "You're very insightful," she admitted quietly. "I... I had no choice but to keep being first."

Aric's gaze softened, understanding dawning on him. "That must be a lot of pressure," he remarked sympathetically.

Maki nodded again, her shoulders slumping slightly. "Yeah, it is. But... it's expected of me," she explained hesitantly.

Her gaze then bore into Aric, her eyes searching for something deeper than words could express. "But I have seen your tests before," she said, her voice rising. "You always got the perfect passing score. Every single time."

Aric met her gaze steadily, his expression unreadable for a moment. "You're right," he replied simply, leaving it at that.

Silence enveloped them, heavy with unspoken thoughts and emotions. They both sat there, lost in their own worlds, the tension palpable in the air.

After a moment, Maki broke the silence, her voice quiet and head down. "I can't eat because my arms hurt a lot."

Aric's brow furrowed in concern. "But you carried my food this whole time," he pointed out.

Maki's face turned a deep shade of red, and she quickly looked away. Aric watched her reaction, puzzled by her frequent embarrassment. A pang of guilt gnawed at him as he wondered if he had said something wrong or insensitive.