As soon as the class ended, I swiftly rose from my seat, ignoring the murmurs of other cadets, and made my way toward the academy's training hall.
There was someone I needed to find.
---
Training Grounds
Swoosh… swoosh… swoosh…
Flinch… Phew…
The air was filled with the rhythmic sound of a blade cutting through the wind. My eyes locked onto a lone figure in the center of the training ground his every swing precise, every movement smooth and honed like the blade he wielded.
Silva.
His footwork was clean, his posture solid, and the flow of his attacks held both elegance and lethality.
Clap, clap, clap.
I stepped forward, clapping softly.
"As expected of Silva."
He halted mid-swing, turned around, and blinked in surprise. "Huh? Kael Vi-rel? You're here?"
Then his gaze narrowed slightly. "Do you… know me?"
Oops.
I scratched the back of my head and gave a sheepish grin. "Did I act too familiar? Sorry, we didn't really talk during the playtest scenario last time. But you're kind of… famous around the academy. There's no way I wouldn't recognize the swordsman said to possess the talent of a Sword Saint."
Silva looked down and gave an awkward cough. "I'm… not at that level. I still have a long way to go."
As expected, modest and humble. Just like his in-game personality.
I still found it incredible how this world's language system automatically translated everything for me. No matter where a character was from or what dialect they spoke, I could understand them as if we shared the same mother tongue. A hidden perk of the system, I guess.
Lucky me.
"Well," Silva suddenly said, "if we're talking fame, I think you've stolen more of the spotlight lately. Kael Vi-rel, the mysterious cadet who aced the practicals with a 'jackpot' skill."
I waved it off casually. "It's only been a few days. I'm sure people will forget about it soon."
Total lie.
"I was just passing by and saw you training. Honestly, I really like your swordsmanship."
Another lie. I came here for this exact reason. I needed to get closer to Silva. It was time to build alliances, develop my own skill, and establish trust.
This was all part of the plan.
"I've always admired swordsmen," I added. "It's a passion of mine. Are you also majoring in swordsmanship, Silva?"
"I am," he said, nodding. "Why?"
"I've been training too. But there are areas I'm lacking. I was wondering if you'd be willing to share a few moves with me. Help me improve."
"Hmm…" Silva sheathed his practice sword and gave me a thoughtful look. "Funny. I was actually hoping to see the swordsmanship of the guy who ranked first in the practical exam."
Jackpot. My plan was moving right on track.
"Then how about a spar?" I offered, already walking over to pick up a wooden practice sword. "I'd like to test my will and maybe… gain an ally."
Silva smiled slightly. "Alright then. Let's do this."
The two of us moved to the center of the arena. That God there was no other students in the practice hall, because they won't want to miss the rare sight of Silva in a one-on-on.
We bowed and took our stances.
Silva moved first. A clean slash aimed at my shoulder.
Clang!
I blocked it effortlessly.
Clang, clang!
Strike after strike came at me with increasing force, yet I parried them all. Despite Silva's superior physical stats, I could read his every move like a book.
Because I'd played this game.
I'd memorized Silva's moveset, his attack patterns, his habits, his feints. I had knowledge of his development curve, his strengths, and more importantly his weaknesses.
While his blade was fast and strong, his follow-through had slight pauses. His footwork had a rhythm. His hips shifted a little before a low sweep.
I smirked. "Just be my friend already, Silva," I muttered with an evil chuckle. "Hehehe…"
---
A Few Minutes Later
"What's wrong? Are you okay, Silva?"
The duel had ended, but Silva stood frozen, eyes wide in disbelief. His breathing was heavy, sweat dripping from his chin.
---
Silva's POV
How? How is he doing this?
I've clearly surpassed him physically. I know my strength and speed. My attacks were clean. Yet… none of them landed.
None.
It felt like hitting an endless wall.
Every move I made, he anticipated. Every blow, he countered. I've never been pushed back like this before.
His understanding of swordsmanship… it's not just skill. It's something else.
Is the difference in our physique really that large?
No. That's not it.
There's something else something deeper.
---
Kael Vi-rel
"Are you wondering why I was able to win?" I asked, spinning the wooden sword in my hand before planting it on the ground.
Silva nodded slightly, still catching his breath.
"The key to swordsmanship," I said slowly, "is experience."
Silva's brows furrowed. "Experience? Are you saying… that's the only difference between us?"
I nodded. "We may be the same age, but that doesn't mean we've walked the same path."
Silva's jaw tightened. "I've experienced things too. I've been through duels… raids…"
That was true. In the game timeline, Silva would eventually gain fame through sheer effort and hard-won battles. Two years from now, he'd surpass most elite swordsmen.
But right now? He was still green.
And I had something he didn't insider knowledge.
I leaned in, smiling. "But I've lived on the battlefield for a very long time."
Silva's eyes widened. "The battlefield…?"
My words hit like a hammer. He stared at me in disbelief.
I couldn't exactly tell him I was a player who reincarnated into the world of World End, a hardcore VR game, with my memories intact.
So I left it vague.
I turned around, placing the practice sword back on the rack.
"Well, that was fun. Let's spar again sometime."
And with that, I walked out of the training hall, leaving a stunned Silva in my wake.
---
Silva's POV
I stood still, gripping my broken wooden sword tightly.
"…The battlefield, huh?"
Silva quickly muttered under his breath.
Who… exactly are you, Kael Vi-rel?
---