Rhodeia College offered a plethora of disciplines, but at its core, it was split between two principal arts: magic and swordsmanship. Each school had its own facilities, but none boasted as much energy as the swordsmanship grounds.
The sword school itself was a vast district within the campus walls — an entire sector devoted to weapon arts. Training grounds, dueling arenas, and combat pavilions stretched as far as the eye could see. Regardless of which course students enrolled in, they'd inevitably find themselves here.
And on this day, one particular class wouldn't start in a lecture hall, but in one of the many legendary training centers.
Along the stone path leading to the grand structure, a pair of students walked among the scattered crowd.
"Man, would you look at that architecture," Kain whistled, shielding his eyes against the midday sun. "Bet you'd only see something like that in the imperial palace. No wonder they call this the most prestigious college in the Vectis Empire."
"Mhm," Rosalina murmured, following a few steps behind.
"I mean, come on. I'm talking about the Lynn Dia Sinistar. The top Sword Saint in the empire! And I'm about to be in her class! My heart's racing... I needa calm down, but I can't!"
"Mhm."
"Oh yeah, speaking of which..."
Kain turned over his shoulder, only to meet a deadpan pair of scarlet eyes, half-lidded with disdain.
"Why are you following me?!"
"Following you?" Rosalina muttered. "Why the hell would I follow you? We're in the same class, idiot."
"Yeah, which means you're following me."
"Tch... Not a single day passes without you finding a new way to piss me off. Move over, walk on that side of the path."
"Eh?! I was here first!"
"I don't care if you were here first. What matters is that I'm here now."
"And I'm supposed to move for you?!"
"Obviously. A proper man should always yield the path for a lady."
"You? A lady?" Kain scoffed. "No one in their right mind would ever think you're anything more than a damn—?!"
Before the insult could land, Rosalina's fist did. A sharp jab to his hip that made him buckle and stagger off the path, clutching his side in exaggerated agony.
"Agh—! My ribs! Call a priest...!"
She kept walking without breaking stride, only sparing a glance over her shoulder as she flicked a strand of white hair behind her ear.
"Hmph. Miscreant."
By the time Kain finally dragged himself through the open doors, he was the last one in attendance. The class had around fifty students. Already gathered and waiting for the professor's arrival.
For a training hall, the room was as extravagant as one could expect from Rhodeia. The floors and walls were bordered by small corridors meant for spectating. Thick columns stretched from the floor to the ceiling, each marked with the scars of old sword strikes. Along the back wall, racks of equipment stood neatly arranged. Training armor and wooden swords lined up in rows.
Kain slumped against a nearby column, rubbing his side.
"Goddess Elysia... That actually hurt," he muttered under his breath.
"Good."
He stiffened. Slowly, he turned his head to the left, and there she was. Rosalina leaned casually against the wall beside him, that same infuriatingly smug smirk dancing on her lips.
"Who's following who now, hmm?" she teased.
"...I hate you."
"Aww~ and here I was thinking you were finally starting to like me."
"Like you? Who in their right mind would ever subject themselves to—"
She stepped in close, cutting him off before he could finish. Her smirk widened into something downright predatory.
"Thought so."
Kain let out a sharp grunt and looked away, too stubborn to give her the satisfaction. He sighed, straightening up as he braced himself for whatever this class had in store.
Then, a shift in the wind.
His head snapped to the left, eyes narrowing toward the empty corridor beyond the columns. But there was nothing.
His brow twitched. Maybe it was just his imagination... until it happened again, this time from the right. Another faint ripple in the air, like a presence brushing past.
Kain wasn't the only one who noticed it.
Rosalina straightened as well, her scarlet eyes sharp.
"Hey... did you—" Kain started.
"Feel something just now?" she finished for him, her voice low. "If so, then yes. Yes, I did."
They exchanged a wary glance before scanning the room ahead. The other students were still chatting, laughing, completely unaware.
"Then why the hell does it seem like no one else noticed?" Kain muttered.
Suddenly, the world stopped breathing.
Voices died midsentence, laughter stilled, and eyes hung in the brief moment between blinks. Even the dust suspended in the air as time itself seemed to hesitate.
And within that frozen world, something moved.
A flicker of white, no louder than a sigh. A woman, gliding through the crowd of halted students like a phantom in a pale world.
As she passed a boy near the front, a pair of slender fingers brushed his shoulder.
"One down," she whispered.
The world exhaled.
Time pressed onward, the sound and color rushing back in a wave. The boy staggered and collapsed to the floor, clutching his shoulder as though it had been seared from the inside out.
"Whoa! Hey, you okay?" another student called, hurrying over.
"I-I think so, but... what just—"
His words hitched as another girl fell across the room, her face twisted in shock. A fellow student lunged to help her, only to crumple mid-step, clutching his wrist with a sharp, involuntary cry.
"What the...?! What the hell is going on?!"
Then came the panic.
It spread like wildfire through dry grass. One by one, bodies buckled under unseen pressure, folding as though some invisible force was plucking them from their feet. No blow was seen, and no sound was made. Just students falling, helpless against whatever invisible hand guided their collapse.
And from the back of the training hall, Kain and Rosalina watched.
There was something there.
They knew it.
They could feel it in their bones. The way the air turned heavy and the world tilted, yet neither of them had seen a single thing. Not a flicker. Not a blur.
Not even for half a second.
"...Kain," Rosalina whispered. "Get ready."
Without hesitation, both of them hovered their hands over their sheathed swords. As the final student crumpled to the floor, the pair stepped forward in perfect sync, their eyes scanning the training hall's shadowed corners, searching for even the faintest flicker of movement.
And then, a ripple in the air materialized like a phantom at her side.
Rosalina's instincts screamed.
Her blade flew from its sheath in a blur, meeting cold steel with a deafening clash. Sparks danced across the air as she was forced back, her boots skidding along the polished floor.
Kain moved before his mind even caught up. He lunged with a wide arc of his sword, but the figure merely stepped aside. A movement so small and effortless that it seemed impossible.
He stopped his momentum and twisted his wrist, snapping the blade around for a follow-up slash.
Clang.
Their swords met, only this time, it was his turn to be knocked off-balance.
From behind, Rosalina launched herself forward. Yet without so much as a glance, the woman leapt high into the air, twisting gracefully over Rosalina's head like a ribbon fluttering in a breeze. As she descended, her blade came crashing down. Rosalina barely raised her weapon in time to meet it.
"Very good," the woman murmured. Her voice was soft and unnervingly serene amidst the chaos.
The clash didn't stop. Rosalina parried, but the woman pressed harder. Kain dove back into the fray, aiming for her exposed side, but she slipped away like mist.
Eventually, the other students recovered from their daze, yet they could only gape at the spectacle unfolding before them.
Blades glinted, footwork blurred. Every slash and strike was a work of art: precise, fluid, and utterly impossible to follow. For every attack Kain and Rosalina launched, the woman evaded with unsettling ease, as though she knew the outcome before their blades even moved.
To the bystanders, it was less a battle and more a mesmerizing, dangerous dance.
Then, with a final exchange of blows, the two students were knocked back, sliding across the floor in opposite directions.
At last, she stood.
Pale blue hair tied into twin buns with delicate brooches swaying behind them. Sharp, intelligent eyes looked at them like pristine ocean shallows. Her figure was clad in a sleek, fitted dress adorned with embroidered tidal waves, slits trailing up her legs to grant unimpeded movement. The design was foreign and unfamiliar, yet no one could deny how perfectly it suited her.
She set a hand on her hip, her gaze sweeping across the stunned students.
"Excellent! Remarkable! Absolutely magnificent, the two of you," she beamed. "Your form needs polishing, but your instincts... are certainly worth cultivating."
At last, she turned fully to face them, her expression softening.
"Ah, forgive me," she said, placing a slender hand to her lips. "I do tend to get ahead of myself."
Grasping the folds of her dress, she dipped into a graceful bow.
"Greetings, my beautiful students. I am Lynn Dia Sinistar, your instructor for this course — Introduction to the Zephyr Sword. It brings me great joy to see so many promising faces gathered here."