Instructor Rago's booming voice cut through the chatter, his eyes scanning the crowd of students with calculated calm. Then, his hand lifted and pointed toward a tall, lean boy standing near the back.
"You," he said, voice sharp and steady.
Kirito blinked, then pointed at himself. "Me?"
The instructor chuckled. "Yes, you. Come forward."
Zane leaned toward Miranda with a teasing grin. "Looks like someone's becoming the instructor's favorite."
Kirito stepped forward slowly, his black hair tied into a short ponytail swaying slightly with each step. He reached the platform and grabbed one of the training weapons—a standard wooden longsword.
"Sir," Kirito asked, eyeing the massive greatsword still strapped to Instructor Rago's back, its surface faintly pulsing with residual mana. "Are you going to use that?"
Rago grinned, removing the weapon from his back and placing it gently to the side. "No, I don't want to kill a student today. That would ruin the lesson, don't you think?"
Zane chuckled. "Miranda, is that guy bluffing or what?"
But Alex, who had been quietly observing the weapon's aura, frowned. "No… he's not bluffing. That man could kill someone with a single swing of that sword."
Instructor Rago then picked up a massive wooden greatsword, its size and weight obvious even in practice form. He stepped onto the training platform and shifted into a stance—feet planted firmly, one leg behind the other, knees slightly bent, and the blade held diagonally across his body. The air around him grew tense, as if the very space acknowledged the strength behind that stance.
Kirito nodded and inhaled deeply as he mimicked what he had learned from training. He stepped back with one leg, blade held low in a relaxed grip, one hand slightly open, his eyes sharp with focus. A duelist's stance—built for speed, agility, and reactive counters.
The moment was silent.
Then—Boom!
The first clash echoed through the arena like thunder. Kirito moved first, slashing horizontally, aiming to test the instructor's reaction. Rago parried effortlessly, the force of his block creating a shockwave that forced Kirito back a step. But the boy didn't hesitate—he stepped back in, rotating around and slashing diagonally, aiming for the instructor's side.
Rago sidestepped with uncanny precision, swinging with one hand in a sweeping arc. Kirito ducked and rolled beneath it, the wind from the swing brushing his hair as he came up behind the instructor.
Fast.
He slashed again—this time landing a hit on Rago's back.
Or so he thought.
The instructor turned as if expecting it. His blade met Kirito's just in time, and the clash sent vibrations up the younger boy's arms.
"You've got guts," Rago said, pushing him back with raw strength. "But guts won't keep you alive."
Kirito skidded backward, heels dragging on the platform. He gritted his teeth and surged forward again, trying a feint this time—a fake left, then a spinning right slash.
Rago caught the blade between his own and a kick sent Kirito tumbling. He rolled, recovered, and came back swinging.
A dance of wooden blades followed—one graceful and fast, the other powerful and controlled. Kirito pushed himself to the limit, throwing out every technique he could remember, but Rago never once seemed pressured. Calm. Relaxed. In control.
Then—Rago finally went on the offensive.
He stepped forward, unleashing a downward strike that cracked the platform beneath. Kirito barely blocked it, the shock numbing his arms. Before he could recover, a sweeping kick knocked his feet off the ground, and he slammed into the floor with a dull thud.
The arena went quiet.
Rago stood tall, his wooden greatsword resting on his shoulder.
"Not bad," he said, voice calm. "You've got spirit. You just need experience."
Kirito groaned, still lying on the ground. "That… was brutal."
Zane smirked. "Told you. Instructor's not just bark."
Alex nodded. "We've got a long way to go."
Kirito stepped down from the platform, his footsteps light but controlled. Despite losing, there was a quiet pride in the way he carried himself.
Miranda was the first to speak. "Kirito, that was awesome! You really did great out there."
Zane folded his arms, nodding. "Wow, you're really good with the sword. I didn't think you had that kind of skill."
Kirito gave a small shake of his head. "But I lost."
Alex stepped beside him, giving him a light pat on the back. "Don't beat yourself up. It was the instructor you dueled. No one expects a win in a fight like that."
Kirito smiled faintly but said nothing more.
Instructor Rago stepped forward, resting his greatsword on his shoulder. "Before we move on… there's something you should all know. There are classified beasts out there—S-rank, SS-rank, and even SSS-rank. Beasts of that caliber can raze entire cities… maybe even countries."
The air around the class thickened. Some students exchanged uneasy glances.
"And it doesn't stop there," Rago continued. "Beast-tech weapons exist in the same ranks. S, SS, and SSS. If you ever get your hands on one… treat it with caution. Because those weapons? They don't just kill—they erase."
He let the silence linger for a moment before clapping his hands.
"Alright! Pair up and begin sparring. I want to see what the rest of you are made of!"
The class erupted into motion as students scrambled to find partners.
…
By the time the sun began to dip behind the academy's towering dome, the session came to an end.
The gang—Alex, Miranda, Zane, and Kirito—agreed to meet at the usual spot.
Kirito and Alex's dorm.
…
Elsewhere, in a more secluded wing of the academy—far from the sparring grounds and dormitories—stood a tall, grand hall made of dark, polished stone. Flickering blue lights lined the corridor walls, casting eerie shadows along the ground. The room was silent, heavy with mana-suppressing runes etched into the floor and ceiling.
In the center of the chamber stood a tall, poised woman, her presence exuding an air of elegance and danger. Her long raven-black hair cascaded down her shoulders like silk, and her crimson eyes glowed faintly beneath the dim lights.
Before her knelt a student—his eyes dull, unfocused.
"Now…" she spoke in a soft, commanding voice, "describe who attacked you and your friends in the alley that night."
A flicker of red glowed in the student's eyes. As if a switch had been flipped, his mouth slowly parted.
His voice was hollow. "It wasn't human…"