He hadn't made many friends. But he wasn't ignored anymore.
Eloin, his alchemy lab partner, continued to offer quiet insights and shared notes without being asked.
Mirae, surprisingly, never brought up the spar again but nodded once during a footwork drill when she saw him correct a mistake others hadn't noticed.
Even Nali, a scholarly girl focused on magical theory, asked him questions about curse delivery paths when her marks failed to bind a sparring dummy.
Thalos never let it go to his head.
He wasn't catching up to the best yet. But he was starting to exist in the same room, under the same expectations.
That, in itself, was progress.
Still, the strain was real.
Each night, he collapsed onto his dorm cot with muscles aching and mind half-fried.
The mental load of learning spell shaping, sigil inscription, sword drills, blood refinement, and curse mechanics all at once would've broken him in his first week.
Only now did he start to compartmentalize.
Spell theory in the morning.
Movement drills right after lunch.
Mana shaping exercises before bed.
And most importantly, he only focused on one practical skill per discipline at a time. No scattershot attempts at being a generalist. Not yet.
He couldn't afford to.
By the end of week three, his notes reflected the slow and realistic pace of mastery in the academy's intense training environment:
Shadow Slash (Tier 1) – Proficiency: 17%
A refined slashing technique that channels shadow energy through the blade. Delivers increased sharpness and minor magical edge when executed correctly.
Blood Step (Tier 1) – Proficiency: 12%
A short burst movement technique using blood energy to enhance reflexes and flexibility. Effective for repositioning or dodging, but drains stamina and control is still difficult under pressure.
Crippling Mark (Tier 1 Curse) – Proficiency: 9%
A basic debilitation sigil intended to weaken an opponent's movement or reaction speed. Often fails when rushed or poorly timed.
Blood Enhancement (Tier 1) – Proficiency: 21%
An active combat buff that channels blood power to enhance physical stats. The most-used skill in sparring and endurance drills. Sustaining it drains blood and stamina, making prolonged use risky, but control is gradually improving.
....
The academy was starting to feel... familiar.
Not comfortable. Not easy.
But predictable in the way that daily exhaustion, aching limbs, and long lectures could be.
Thalos had adjusted to the rhythm of training blocks, meal breaks, and evening study hours. His body moved on habit now. His feet followed the paths between lecture halls like they'd always known them.
He still didn't speak much in class, but his presence no longer felt like that of a stranger.
It felt earned.
"Alright, class. Let's review the two primary methods for stabilizing blood-infused enhancement," barked Instructor Dalen, chalk tapping on the blackboard. "Someone name one."
A few hands shot up. Thalos didn't raise his, but when Dalen pointed toward him anyway, he straightened and answered calmly.
"Internal rhythmic binding. Using the heartbeat as a natural anchor."
The instructor nodded once.
"Correct. That's the safer method. Now, who can name the riskier one?"
Eloin raised her hand and answered without hesitation. "Breath-cycle layering. More explosive results. Less stability."
Thalos glanced sideways at her, surprised. She wasn't much of a talker either, but when she spoke, it was always sharp.
Eloin noticed his glance and gave a small shrug as if to say, Don't underestimate me.
Theory came easier than application.
That was true for almost everyone.
It was one thing to diagram the five steps of casting a Curse Sigil on the board. It was another thing entirely to draw it while evading a sparring opponent, maintaining proper blood pressure, and not flinching when your fingers crackled from minor mana backlash.
Thalos had scars from small burns now. Nothing serious. Nothing worth healing externally. But they marked his learning.
He repeated that to himself whenever a mark fizzled or failed to trigger.
Shadow Slash had grown more stable, but only under specific conditions.
He could execute the technique well during drills or sparring with a predictable pattern. The moment things got chaotic, when a classmate feinted low and struck high, or launched a surprise enhancement mid-dash, his execution faltered.
The line of energy would waver. His grip would tighten wrong. The edge would dull mid-swing.
But in those brief moments when it landed cleanly, Thalos could feel the difference.
It cut smoother.
It pierced faster.
Not stronger than physical strength alone, but more efficient, more certain. Like a tool shaped perfectly for one job.
He wanted to make it reliable.
He needed it to be.
Outside of combat, he'd begun to find enjoyment in another class: Shadowstalk and Tracking.
He didn't have the finesse of someone born into a hunter's bloodline, but he had patience. The instructors taught them to read signs, examine magical residue, follow scent trails enhanced by mana or blood sense.
"Stop thinking of tracking as walking through footprints," the instructor had said. "Start thinking of it as reading what someone leaves behind when they think they've left nothing."
Thalos liked that.
It felt... useful.
Tangible.
And it paired well with his focus on curses. If he couldn't overpower someone, maybe he could mark them. Follow them. Outlast them.
Evenings were his time.
He rarely joined the others in the courtyard after the last class. Most students would relax or gossip over evening meals, or spar casually in pairs.
Thalos returned to the small private training alcove he'd claimed early on, nestled in the academy's eastern wing, just outside the blood-tempering pool chambers.
There, by candlelight or faint moon-glow, he practiced.
His movements weren't always smooth. His casting wasn't always clean.
But they were intentional.
He'd take three attempts at Shadow Slash.
Then sit. Drink a measured sip from his blood pouch.
Activate Blood Enhancement, dash once with Blood Step, hold the enhancement until his limbs trembled, then release.
Breathe.
Repeat.
When he made too many mistakes, he'd stop. Pull out his notebook and write down what went wrong.
Sometimes he cursed himself under his breath. Sometimes he laughed bitterly.
But he never skipped a session.
And that meant he got better.
...
During a quiet lunch on the fourth week, Thalos sat alone near the outer edge of the courtyard, quietly chewing through a bitter slice of bloodroot bread. He wasn't trying to listen in, just eating in peace but nearby voices caught his attention.
At the next table, two older students were speaking just loud enough to carry.
"They say if you hit one hundred percent proficiency in a skill, the system lets you evolve it," one said, gesturing with his fork. "You even get a choice of trait bound to it. Makes the skill yours."
"Yeah, but hitting that point's brutal," the other replied. "Takes forever. There's no shortcut, just repetition and understanding."
"Unless you're rich. You can't raise proficiency with scrolls, but you can cast higher-tier spells or use complex techniques with them. Same with artifacts. If you can afford one."
"Right. You get the effect but not the growth."
"Exactly. Still, that power gap? It shows up real fast."
Thalos didn't say a word.He kept chewing and listening.
He was still far from mastering even one of his techniques. Nowhere near that one-hundred percent mark.
But he wasn't looking for shortcuts.