For the next six days, the forest became Akira's world.
Wake. Train. Collapse. Repeat.
Genma didn't go easy on him. "You want answers?" he growled on the second morning. "Then earn the right to ask the questions."
They trained in silence, mostly. Fistwork. Footwork. Timing. Reflex. Akira's muscles screamed by noon, and by evening, he could barely lift his arms. Still, Genma pushed him.
He didn't ask about the sword. Not yet.
Each night, after the bruises and bandages, Akira would sit alone under the canopy of stars. The forest, so quiet during the day, felt aware at night.
The blade stayed wrapped in the old linen cloth, resting against the wall beside his bedroll. But every time Akira looked at it, the air felt tighter. As if something unseen were watching him from the shadows just beyond the firelight.
On the fourth night, it spoke again. Just a whisper.
"You're getting stronger."
He stared into the trees. "What do you want from me?"
The blade didn't answer. But in the silence that followed, he could swear it smiled.
By the sixth morning, Genma brought out live mana targets—floating spheres of condensed magical force, programmed to fire blasts if not dodged properly.
"The blade whispered to me last night, it kept saying the name Shikoku" Akira exclaimed
"Maybe instead of fearing the blade, call out to it. Embrace it. But besides that, do you want into the Academy?" Genma asked, arms crossed as the spheres began circling them. "Then you'll need more than just fists."
Akira's stomach turned. "Wait—what do you mean 'Academy'?"
Genma grunted. "Figured they'd send word eventually. All candidates with 'unusual awakenings' get flagged by the Corps. If they think that sword's bonded to you... they'll want to see for themselves."
Akira frowned. "So I don't have a choice."
"No," Genma said. "But you do have a shot."
He tapped the back of Akira's hand. "Use the sword today."
Akira froze. "What? I haven't even unsheathed it since—"
"Then unsheathe it." Genma's tone darkened. "See what happens when you stop hiding from whatever chose you."
The cloth slid off like it was made of smoke.
Akira held Shikoku in both hands, and for a moment, the forest stilled. The blade wasn't warm. It was alive. Not pulsing this time—but listening.
Then the mana spheres attacked.
They zipped toward him—fast, unpredictable. The first one fired a pulse of kinetic force. Akira dodged, barely, then swung the blade.
He didn't even aim.
Shikoku did.
The cut was perfect, clean. The mana orb split in half like fruit, dispersing into dust.
Another orb fired.
He moved faster.
Slash. Dodge. Duck. Cut.
The sword guided him subtly. Not full control. Not like before. But like it wanted to be wielded. Every movement was instinctual, fluid, beautiful.
He didn't even realize Genma had stepped back.
By the time the last sphere shattered, Akira was panting, covered in sweat—but grinning.
For the first time in his life, he felt power.
Real power.
Genma said nothing. Just nodded, eyes narrowed.
Akira turned to him. "What... is this sword?"
Genma took a long breath. "I don't know."
Then, after a pause: "But it doesn't belong to our time."
That night, the dream returned.
He stood in a field of ash.
Mountains hung in the sky upside-down. Black spires reached toward the stars. The wind carried voices, thousands of them—all saying his name.
Akira... Akira... Akira...
But then it changed.
They stopped using his name.
Akiri.
A new name. Or maybe... an old one.
At the center of the wasteland stood a figure—a masked being cloaked in shifting shadows. In their hand: the sword.
Shikoku.
It pulsed once. Then again. And then—
Akira woke up.
The next morning, Genma handed him a sealed envelope.
"Messenger dropped it off at dawn," he said. "From the Magic Corps."
Akira tore it open.
Inside: a formal letter marked with the golden seal of the Central Academy of Mana Discipline.
"Congratulations. You are invited to participate in the Academy Entrance Examination."
A second page listed the location Kyoden's northern gates. The date: three days from now.
Akira looked up at Genma. "Is this real?"
Genma folded his arms. "You've got three days to prepare."
Akira felt a chill in his spine.
He looked back down at the blade.
Shikoku gleamed silently under the light.
And though he wouldn't say it aloud...
He knew the real test hadn't even begun yet