The arena walls were cracked, half-frozen, scorched, and broken from the matches. Cadets sat slumped on the benches along the side, bandages wrapped hastily over burns, bruises, and frostbitten skin. Some still trembled, not from pain but from what they had just witnessed.
The excitement that usually followed mock battles was gone. No cheers, no laughter, no chatter. Only silence.
Because now, after five matches, every single one of them understood. This wasn't just training. It was survival.
---
A shimmer of gold entered the room. Solarius walked forward, every step quiet but commanding, his radiant presence filling the air with a suffocating weight. Cadets instinctively sat straighter, even the exhausted ones. His gaze passed over them like sunlight over cracks—exposing everything.
He didn't smile. He didn't congratulate.
"If this had been a real battlefield," his voice cut through the silence, "half of you would be corpses. The other half… would be murderers who killed their own allies."
The words landed heavier than any punch. Haruto, who had been leaning smugly with his arms crossed, dropped his eyes to the floor. Ayaka hugged her bandaged arms tighter. Daigo clenched his jaw until the veins stood out in his temple.
Solarius folded his hands behind his back. "You want to be heroes? Then hear this: heroes who cannot control themselves kill faster than villains."
---
He turned, facing each team in turn.
"Haruto." His gaze snapped onto the lightning user. Haruto flinched.
"Your power impresses children. But in war? Power without restraint is a torch that burns your allies first. You nearly electrocuted Ayaka twice."
Haruto opened his mouth to protest, then closed it, his pride swallowed in silence.
"Ayaka." His tone softened, but only slightly. "You let hesitation chain your hands. Ice does not hesitate when it freezes rivers. Why should you?"
Ayaka lowered her head, her frosted breath visible.
He moved on. "Mei. You dance in shadows and illusions. Do you think killers will wait while you play hide-and-seek?"
Mei bit her lip, cheeks flushed.
"Daigo." Solarius's eyes bored into him. "You wear stone like armor, but stubbornness is brittle. When you refuse to adapt, you crack like rock under a hammer."
Daigo's fists tightened, stone plates chipping and flaking to the ground.
And he did not stop there.
"Rina. Your glass shards cut the air but not your opponent. Tsubasa. Flight without direction is just falling slower. Kaito. A fist of fire is useless when it burns your own partner. Hana. You nurture vines, but do you command them? Or do they command you?"
The cadets' faces tightened with shame, anger, and frustration. Solarius pressed on.
"Renji. Your voice deafens, but without control you are only noise. Kaede. A shadow that cannot choose its target becomes darkness for its own sake. Satoshi. An axe in the hands of someone who cannot see is just flailing steel. Emi." His eyes lingered on her a moment. "Light is guidance. Yet you blind your own allies."
Even Akihiro wasn't spared. Solarius turned to him, and for the first time, the prodigy looked uncertain.
"Akihiro. You shine brighter than the rest. But that only makes you the biggest target. What happens when every villain learns to strike at you first? Can your light protect everyone—or will it collapse when you are broken?"
The room went deathly still. Akihiro clenched his fists but couldn't answer.
---
Solarius let the silence stretch. The cadets sat, simmering in their flaws. And then—
"Actually—"
Every head turned.
It was Emi. She raised her hand timidly, then lowered it halfway, realizing she already had everyone's attention. Her rainbow-hued eyes flicked nervously, but her words spilled out fast, almost too fast.
"Um—Haruto's biggest problem isn't raw control, it's spatial awareness. He doesn't check angles before firing, so he risks hitting allies." She jabbed her finger toward Haruto, who blinked. "And Ayaka—her issue isn't fear, it's over-concentration. She focuses too narrowly on one detail and loses field control."
She went on.
"Mei's illusions work best in open terrain, not tight halls. She needs space. Daigo should stop trying to bulldoze forward every time and use his stone plating to stall, not charge. Rina should focus her shards into fewer, sharper projectiles. Tsubasa should learn to glide instead of flapping wildly. Kaito should stop throwing fire punches near Hana's vines—obviously they'll burn. Hana should anchor her chains before attacking."
She kept going, rapid-fire, analyzing weaknesses and strategies for each cadet, until finally she added:
"And Akihiro shouldn't fight alone. He's too used to it. His light blinds others if they stand too close without coordination. He should—"
"Enough."
Solarius's voice halted her mid-sentence.
The entire class stared. Emi froze, realizing she had just talked over Solarius himself.
But instead of scolding, Solarius studied her. A faint smile—not warm, but sharp—tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Hmph. At least one of you thinks before swinging."
Emi flushed crimson, sinking back into her seat as whispers rippled across the class.
---
When Solarius dismissed them, many limped toward the nurse's office.
Hoshino, the nurse, a sharp-tongued woman with gentle hands, sighed as they stumbled in. "You kids fight like old men trying to prove who's got the bigger scar." She ran her glowing hands over Mei's frozen leg, Daigo's cracked arms, Ayaka's frostbitten skin. Wounds closed, but the exhaustion remained.
"Healing doesn't erase fatigue," she scolded. "Don't think this is a shortcut to recklessness."
---
By the time everyone returned, Solarius stood at the center of the ruined hall again. His golden aura dimmed, his tone low and dangerous.
"Today, you fought classmates. Tomorrow, it will be killers who want your heads. You've tasted a fraction of reality. Train harder…" His gaze swept over each cadet, pinning them in place. "…or bleed faster."
No one dared speak.
Some swallowed hard, others clenched their fists, others looked down, but in their eyes—fear, determination, rivalry, and awe tangled together.