The rest of the evaluation passed in a blur. I barely heard the other names being called, my thoughts still stuck on that single word—Vertius.
Before I knew it, the day was over. I dragged myself back home, my steps feeling heavier than usual.
"I'm home," I mumble as I step inside, closing the door behind me.
As I step inside, shutting the door behind me, a large figure blocks my path. Broad shoulders, a towering frame, and scars tracing across his arms—my father.
"Why so sad?" His deep voice rumbles, arms crossed as he studies me.
Our eyes meet, and I quickly look away, my grip tightening on my bag.
"I... got evaluated today," I mumble. "I'm... a Vertius."
I expected anger. Disappointment. Maybe even silence.
Instead, I’m sitting outside, eating with my father and mother as if nothing had happened.
"A—are you guys not mad?" I finally ask, my voice shaky.
My father pauses mid-bite, raising a brow. My mother simply smiles, sipping her tea.
"Why would we be?" she asks gently.
"Well, both of you guys are Etherborn.. And I'm a Vertius...." I responded keeping my head low.
My father sets his chopsticks down with a sigh. "So what?"
I glance up, surprised. He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. "You think strength is the only thing that matters?"
My mother nods, her expression calm. "Being Etherborn doesn’t define us. And being Vertius doesn’t define you."
My father stands up. "Just because your a Vertius doesnt mean you cant be a Vanguardis like me! HAHAHAHA" He laughed continued with a slap on the table.
My mother sighs, shaking her head. "Dear, you're going to break the table again."
I blink, still processing his words. "Wait... You're serious?"
My father grins, standing tall. "Of course! Vanguardis isn't just about talent—it's about effort, discipline, and pushing past limits! You think I'd let my own son give up over some evaluation?"
His confidence is almost contagious, but doubt still lingers in my chest. "But no Vertius has ever—"
"Then be the first!" He points at me, eyes blazing with determination. "If you want it, fight for it."
"But.. Cael is only 1 year older than me.. And he's already in Class 4."
My father leans forward, his expression firm. "So? If you keep comparing yourself to him, he’ll always be ahead. If you want to change that, then stop looking at his shadow and prove to everyone that a Vertius can become a Vanguardis!"
"Father... I promise, I’ll be better than Cael. I swear it."
"That's what I want to hear, bahahahaha! HHA—FUCK, I almost choked!"
What my father said stuck with me. If I kept looking at my past, how could I face my future? How would I change if I kept repeating the same mistakes? If there's a sun, then there's a moon. If there's Cael, then there's me.. Right?
The day went on, and for the first time in a while, we shared a peaceful evening. We laughed over dinner, traded stories, and even joked about the old days. It felt… normal. Afterward, my parents gathered their things and quickly left, promising to check in later. The house fell silent, the only sound being the soft hum of the refrigerator. I sat there for a while, letting their words sink in, feeling the weight of my father’s encouragement. I had my doubts, but for once, I wondered if maybe—just maybe—I could prove him right.
***
BZZT BZZT
I groggily reach out, my hand slapping blindly at the alarm clock. It’s too early, and the sound feels like it’s drilling into my skull.
"Ugh..." I mutter, my fist slamming into the clock with a little more force than necessary. It finally shuts up with a quick click, but the damage is already done.
I quickly take a shower, eat, and get ready for school. The usual routine—no time to dwell on things. I grab my bag, glance at the clock, and head out the door, locking it behind me. Another day ahead.
As I turn around. I almost kissed Jin.
"Dude, What the hell why are you so close to my face"
Jin jumps back, laughing. "Sorry, man! You were zoning out, and I didn’t want to be late."
I shake my head, rubbing my forehead. "You scared the hell out of me, dude."
He smirks. "Wouldn't be the first time."
I sigh, still recovering from the shock. "Let's just get to class."
I push open the front door of the café, the brisk morning air hitting my face as I step outside. The streets are already crowded with students, some chatting and others rushing to get to campus on time.
I walk alongside Jin, who’s still babbling about some random thing, not seeming to care about the time.
The campus looms in the distance, its tall buildings just coming into view as we make our way through the main street. I can see other students filtering into the gates, some familiar faces, some new. A normal day, or at least it should be.
As always, I’m astonished by how our school looks—an odd fusion of medieval architecture blended seamlessly with modern design. Stone gargoyles sit perched above sleek glass windows, while towering spires are juxtaposed against the smooth, steel surfaces of new buildings. The giant clocktower in the center of campus ticks away, surrounded by trees and fountains that add a touch of serenity to the otherwise bustling environment.
I’ve walked this path a thousand times, yet every time I step through the gates, I can’t help but be in awe of it all.
Jin nudges me with an exaggerated grin. "You always look like you’re seeing the campus for the first time. You sure you’ve been here long enough?"
I chuckle, brushing him off as we enter the main courtyard, the hustle and bustle of students buzzing around us.
"Hey, there's the board," Jin points towards three large boards affixed to the side of the tower, each one covered in names and class designations.
"Let's check which class we got transferred to."
"Yeah, transferred. Did you not listen yesterday?" Jin chuckles, nudging me. "After getting evaluated, you'll get assigned to a class that’s more suited to your category."
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I look up and down the first board.
Class 1.. Nope.. Class 4.. no Class 5 no..
"Hey, man! You're in Class 6, and I’m in Class 4!"
I glance at Jin, confused by the tone of his voice. "Why'd you say 'Class 6' like that?" I raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain.
"Well... uh, just listen to your professor later. He'll explain everything." Jin says quickly, clearly trying to avoid more questions. "Anyway, I gotta go!"
With that, he rushes off toward his own classroom, leaving me standing there, a little more confused than before.
"Class 6..." I murmur. where is that..
After walking for what felt like ages, I finally find Class 6. The building is massive, towering over me, and I can already feel the weight of over 300 people inside, their presence pressing against the walls. My stomach twists in a mix of excitement and nerves.
I grab the door handle, feeling its cold surface beneath my fingers. Taking a deep breath, I push it open, stepping into a space that immediately swallows me whole.
Ah.. This is so embarrassing so many people looking at me... quickly go to a desk!
"Settle down… Settle down," the professor’s voice booms, carrying an authoritative tone that instantly silences the room. His sharp gaze scans the crowd, and I feel the weight of his intimidating aura as he stands at the front. His long, dark hair cascades almost to his knees, giving him an almost mythical presence, like someone who’s seen it all and demands respect.
The room falls eerily quiet, and I can't help but feel a sense of dread creeping up my spine.
"As some of you may not know me, let me properly introduce myself. My name is Raynor Wrenholt. You will address me as Professor Raynor."
His deep, commanding voice reverberates through the room, and I can feel his piercing gaze sweep over us, as if he’s already sizing us up. His long, silver hair flows behind him, almost reaching his knees, and his black cloak rustles as he moves. There's an air of authority about him—he doesn't need to raise his voice to command respect.
"Welcome, to Close Combat 101, or what I'd like to call it—HELL," Professor Raynor says with a slight grin, but there's no humor in his eyes.
"Some of you might think you're here for an easy time," he continues, pacing slowly across the front of the room, "but think again. This class will break you, push you beyond your limits. You either survive it… or drop out."
"Now, before anything I would like to explain the class system"
"Class 1 is mostly filled with geniuses," Professor Raynor continues, his eyes sweeping over the class. "They're the best of the best, the ones who get everything right before you even know what the question is."
He pauses, letting the weight of his words sink in before moving on.
"Class 2 to 3? That's the graduating class. If you meet anyone in those groups, you better respect them—they’re seniors for a reason."
I can feel the tension in the room rise a little, but Raynor's next words hit like a thunderclap.
"Classes 4 to 5? Well, they're the 'stepped-up' classes—basically, they're for those who can handle a little more pressure. And then there’s Class 6 and 7, where you all are right now.
"Now that's out of the way, let's get started," Professor Raynor announces, his voice cutting through the classroom like a knife.
He strides to the front of the room, his presence demanding attention. The class falls into a tense silence, all eyes fixed on him.
"Today, you’re going to start by learning the basics of hand-to-hand combat," he continues, his eyes scanning the room. "Most of you will struggle, and some of you will falter, but I don't care. What matters is whether you stand up and keep fighting."
He motions toward the mats in the center of the room. "Pair up, and no one gets a free pass. I want to see how you react under pressure. Don’t hold back."
The room buzzes with nervous energy, students whispering and shifting, some clearly intimidated by the professor’s no-nonsense approach.
I glance around, trying to find a partner. Jin isn’t here, and I don’t see any familiar faces from my old class. I take a deep breath and step forward, heading toward an empty space on the mat.
"Let’s get moving!" Raynor commands, snapping me back to reality.
I turn to face the voice, and my eyes land on a tall, slim guy with a mischievous grin. His hair is messy, and his posture exudes that casual confidence that makes him seem like he's done this a hundred times.
"Hey, kid, wanna be partners?" he asks, his tongue hanging out as if he's been waiting for me to reply.
I narrow my eyes, assessing him quickly. He doesn’t look like much, but something about him tells me not to underestimate him.
I nod, shrugging. "Sure, why not?"
He chuckles, giving me a playful shove. "Name’s Rook, by the way. Let’s make this quick. I don’t like dragging things out." His grin widens as he steps onto the mat, getting into position.
"Hope you're ready," he says, almost as a warning, but I can tell he's excited for the challenge.
I step onto the mat, rolling my shoulders. "Let’s see what you got, Rook."
The professor's voice rings out, cutting through the chatter. "Start when you're ready!"
As I step on the matt, rook immediately rushes towards me, swinging a big right hook. I can see it.. it's slow.. but.. I'm slower
I brace myself, seeing the punch coming toward me, but my body feels heavy, like it’s stuck in slow motion. My mind screams for me to move, but my legs won’t cooperate fast enough. The right hook barrels toward me, and despite my best efforts, I can’t avoid it in time.
It lands. Hard. My head snaps to the side, the force of the blow throwing me off balance. My vision wavers for a moment, and I feel a dull pain pulse through my cheek.
"Come on, kid!" Rook taunts, grinning like he just won the match. "You gotta do better than that!"
I stagger back, trying to shake off the daze. The sting in my cheek is nothing compared to the sinking feeling in my chest. I don’t even have the speed to dodge. I have to think of something—anything—before he lands another one.
I take a deep breath, forcing myself to focus. No more hesitation. I can't afford to stand there, waiting to get hit.
I charge forward, closing the distance between us. This time, I won't just react. I need to anticipate. The fear of being too slow looms, but I push it aside. I have to move. I have to fight back.
A right hook again? No.. Its a feint he'll kick.. I need to time it..
"huh" Rook side steps and quickly grabs me
A tackle?
I can feel his grip closing in around me as he sidesteps, and before I can react, Rook shifts his weight. A tackle. He's going for a takedown.
My heart races as I try to move, but his hands lock around my waist, pulling me off balance. I’m not ready for this. His strength overwhelms me as he drives his shoulder into my midsection, sending me stumbling backward.
I instinctively try to catch myself, but I’m not fast enough. My back hits the mat with a heavy thud, the air knocked out of my lungs. I gasp for breath, the wind stolen from me.
Rook hovers above me, grinning like he’s already won. "Too slow, kid," he says, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction.
But something inside me snaps. This isn’t how it ends. I refuse to be just another punching bag.
I grit my teeth, my hands pushing against the mat, struggling to shift my weight. My body aches, but I can’t let him get the better of me. If I don’t fight back now, this will only get worse.
I find my footing, using all the strength I can muster to twist my body and buck my hips. It’s not much, but it’s enough to break his hold, if only for a second. I need to use this moment—before he has the chance to lock me down again.
I see it..
I quickly lift my hips upward and arch my back to displace his weight. There's the leverage now.. I quickly shift my body to the side and use my legs to hook to his legs executing a roll
As I execute the roll, I feel Rook's grip loosen, his body thrown off balance by the momentum. For a split second, it feels like the world slows down, and I seize the opportunity. I roll hard, using the shift in weight to bring myself on top, pinning Rook beneath me.
I have him now, but his quick recovery means I have to secure the position. I lock my legs around his midsection, keeping him from squirming free, while maintaining enough pressure to assert control. My breath is heavy, but my focus is clear.
"Got you," I mutter under my breath, realizing that I’ve just won this round.
"Stop. The both of you. God" The professor speaks up his face filled with disgust
The professor’s words hit harder than I expected, but I try not to show it. I stay down on the mat, breathing heavily. The others start to disperse, but I feel his gaze on me.
“You think a monster would let you grapple them?” Professor Raynor’s voice cuts through the air, his tone sharp. “God, you’re going to get yourself killed. That’s enough for today.”
I scramble to my feet, my muscles still aching from the failed move. The last thing I want is to show weakness in front of the class, but it’s hard not to feel like I’ve just embarrassed myself in front of everyone.
“And Mr. Mat,” the professor continues, his gaze locked on me. “Condition that slim body of yours. Get some strength behind that frame if you expect to last more than five seconds in a real fight.”
The class laughs lightly, and I feel a heat rise in my face, but I don’t respond. I just nod, doing my best to push the disappointment away.
“Class dismissed!” Professor Raynor calls, and I quickly gather my things, wanting to get out of there before anyone else can say anything.
As I head for the door, I hear footsteps behind me, and when I glance over my shoulder, I see Kyu walking toward me.
"Hey, man, you okay?" Kyu asks, his voice more concerned than usual.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I mutter, forcing a smile. “Just... need to work harder, I guess.”
Kyu raises an eyebrow but doesn’t press me further. “Well, don’t let that guy get to you. He’s just a jerk who expects perfection from everyone. You’re doing fine.”
I shrug, not entirely convinced. "I don’t know about that."
“Well, I do. Anyway, want to grab a bite? Let’s go grab some food before we hit the gym. You need to work on that body of yours, right?”
I chuckle at his teasing, but it’s a bit of relief. “Yeah, sure. I could use a break.”
We walk together toward the exit, and for the first time today, I let myself relax a little. I still have a long way to go, but I’m not going to let one failure define me.
There's more to me than this.