The training field behind the eastern dorms was empty at this hour. The sun hung low, its golden light spilling over the grass in long, soft beams. A faint breeze stirred the leaves, and the rhythmic creak of the wooden gate in the distance was the only sound.
Wads stood in the middle of the field, tightening the wrap around his right wrist. He had requested this match himself — not out of rivalry, but out of a need to measure the month's worth of progress. And there was only one person whose style could truly test him.
Klyden Yurei, leaning lazily against the fence, glanced up from adjusting his gloves. "You sure about this?" he asked, a playful edge in his tone. "Last time, you were out of breath in three minutes."
"That was then." Wads' reply was quiet but steady. "Let's see how I do now."
From the far side, Liora sat on the fence rail, one leg dangling. Her chin rested in her palm as she watched them, her expression unreadable but her eyes sharp. "Don't mind me," she said lightly. "I'm just here for the entertainment. And maybe to stop you two from killing each other."
Klyden smirked, cracking his neck. "Alright then, strategist. Let's see what all that 'mysterious training' has done for you."
They moved to the center, just a few paces apart. The air seemed to thicken between them, anticipation drawing the moment taut.
"Begin," Liora said simply.
Klyden moved first — a sudden forward step, his footwork crisp, his presence pressing into Wads like a wave. Wads didn't retreat. Instead, he shifted his weight, letting Klyden's first jab slip past with minimal movement.
He's testing my reactions first, Wads thought, eyes locked on Klyden's center of mass. Good.
Klyden's follow-up was faster, a feint high turning into a sweeping low kick. Wads caught it with the edge of his shin and countered with a sharp palm strike toward Klyden's chest. It missed by inches as Klyden twisted away, a grin tugging at his mouth.
"Not bad," Klyden said, circling. "You're lighter on your feet now."
Wads didn't answer. He let his breathing steady, his focus sharpening. His aura flickered faintly — that same black edged with violet, condensed tighter than before.
When Klyden came in again, Wads didn't just react — he read him. The tilt of his shoulders, the subtle drop in his stance — the telltale signs of a coming left hook. Wads shifted early, catching Klyden's arm and using the momentum to throw him off balance.
Klyden stumbled a step but didn't fall, immediately spinning into a counterstrike. This time, Wads blocked but felt the jolt travel up his forearm. The power behind Klyden's blows hadn't lessened one bit.
Liora tilted her head, calling out casually, "You're both holding back. I can tell."
Neither replied, but the pace quickened.
Klyden's strikes became sharper, more unpredictable. Wads kept pace, his movements precise, economical — each block and counter revealing not raw strength, but a mind mapping possibilities in real time.
Then Wads felt it — the thread of that state he had brushed against in the forest days ago. His perception stretched, every movement of Klyden's body laid bare before it fully formed. The world seemed slower, each second holding more than it should.
Klyden's right fist arced toward his jaw. Wads slipped under it effortlessly, closing the gap and aiming a clean hit toward Klyden's ribs. It landed, a solid but controlled strike that forced Klyden back a pace.
Liora's eyes narrowed slightly. That wasn't luck.
"You've gotten dangerous," Klyden admitted, rolling his shoulder. But rather than ease off, he surged forward with a grin, forcing Wads to either keep up or break.
The next exchange was a blur — hands, feet, strikes, deflections. Wads' breathing deepened, his body moving not just on instinct but on calculated anticipation. Every step, every turn, was deliberate.
But the longer he stayed in that heightened state, the heavier the air felt. His muscles burned; his thoughts, though sharp, carried the weight of strain.
Klyden caught it — the faint hitch in Wads' movements. In that instant, he pressed harder, chaining attacks that pushed Wads toward the edge of the field.
Wads parried, sidestepped, narrowly avoiding a sweep that would've taken his legs out. He countered with a quick strike to Klyden's shoulder, enough to create distance. His vision swam briefly, the world snapping back to its normal rhythm.
They both froze for a moment, breathing hard.
"Call it?" Klyden asked, his tone not mocking but respectful.
Wads gave a short nod. "Yeah. I got what I needed."
From the fence, Liora hopped down, landing lightly on the grass. "Well," she said, brushing dust from her skirt, "that was more fun than I expected."
Her gaze moved between the two of them. "Wads — you've definitely improved. You're not just reacting anymore. You're… reading him."
"And Klyden," she added with a smirk, "you clearly enjoyed trying to break him."
Klyden chuckled. "He's not so breakable anymore."
Wads allowed himself a faint smile. "Give me another month. I'll make you work for it even more."
As they left the field together, the sun dipped below the horizon, leaving the grass bathed in the cool glow of twilight. Wads' arms ached, his breathing was still uneven — but there was a quiet satisfaction in knowing that today, he had stood his ground.
And next time, he intended to do more than that.