The academy gave us weekends off.
Most students took that as a gift.
A chance to breathe.
Explore the market. Hit the local cafés. Maybe flirt awkwardly with townspeople who'd seen a thousand cadets before them.
I, on the other hand, took it as a warning.
A 48-hour window to plan my continued existence.
[Countdown to Midterms: 113 Days Remaining]
Event: "A Tired Student"
Survival Rate: 14%
…Yeah.
I wasn't going anywhere.
---
The Academy's Grand Library stood like a sleeping colossus on the east wing. Giant stone walls, enchanted shelves, self-sorting archives—and a no food policy so strict even Damian feared it.
I claimed a corner table on the third floor, opened my notebook, and began what would later be known (by me) as Operation: Don't Die.
Objective One: Swordsmanship.
I already had her. The ego sword. Which meant I didn't need some flashy family blade or mana-drenched artifact. What I needed was control.
I leafed through manuals: Foundations of Arcane Swordplay, Runic Edge Techniques, and a book so old it was just called "Swing Good."
I wrote down drills. Measured footwork patterns. Highlighted balance theory. I wasn't strong, but I had Instinctual Flow, a system, and an ego with enough attitude to train me.
"You're finally ready," she purred in my head. "I was beginning to think you'd keep dodging responsibility forever."
"I was building rapport."
"You were avoiding sweating."
"Same thing."
She laughed.
It was soft. Real.
And weirdly warm.
---
Objective Two: Physical Conditioning.
The academy didn't offer basic gym classes.
They assumed if you enrolled here, you could already outrun a bear or punch through an ogre skull. Or both.
I couldn't do either.
So, I outlined my week.
Morning: Sword drills.
Afternoon: Strength/Agility training.
Evening: Meditation and WIL enhancement.
[Physical Training Plan Accepted]
Passive EXP Boost to STR, AGI, DEX, and WIL Enabled (System-Exclusive Perk)
Objective Three: Copy One More Skill.
That… was tricky.
I'd already stolen Flash from Damian, which was basically the magical version of a panic button. But one skill wasn't enough.
I needed something defensive. Or long-range. Or even utility-based.
"Try not to flirt your way into it this time," my sword teased.
"I'll have you know, I didn't flirt. I shattered dreams."
"And then stole his lightning. Cold."
"I call it… efficiency."
---
I spent hours reading. Mapping out magical theory. Breaking down training logs of famous knights. Comparing my WIL-based sword to traditional mana-forged ones.
And the more I learned, the more clear it became:
I was different.
Everyone else here learned magic by shaping their own mana into spells.
I couldn't do that.
When I tried repeating Matteo's fireball chant last week, nothing happened. Not even smoke.
The sword had explained it best:
"You don't shape mana. Your system translates your will into function. That's why casting doesn't work for you."
It made sense. Sort of.
I wasn't a mage.
I was… a cheat code.
A cheat code that barely worked.
---
By the time I left the library, the sun was dipping behind the towers. Students passed by, chatting, laughing, carrying shopping bags and mana bubble teas.
Damian was probably out somewhere flirting with ten different shopkeepers. Alex might have gone for groceries. I wasn't sure.
We didn't talk much, outside of shared awkward breakfasts and the occasional "Is it your turn to wash the plates?"
He. Alex kept boundaries tighter than steel. Which I respected.
Even if I still caught her staring when I wasn't looking.
---
That night, I stood alone on the abandoned training field behind the dorms.
Sword in hand.
She pulsed with faint silver light in my grip. A living extension of my will.
"Alright," I said. "Let's begin."
"Let's make a swordsman out of a pastry prince."
"Operation: Don't Die. Phase One."
And as I took the first stance, the sword hummed—soft and eager.
Training began.
---
[System Notice: Bound Weapon Skill Exp Increased]
STR +0.2
AGI +0.1
DEX +0.1
WIL +0.3
Sword Ego Affinity: +2
She is pleased.