The sword school was smaller than Sbu expected — just a wide hall with scuffed floors, metal racks lined with wooden swords, and a faint smell of sweat and determination.
A handful of people were already training inside. Some practiced footwork, others swung blades with all the grace of someone trying to kill a mosquito with a stick.
Sbu hesitated at the entrance. "Uh… hello?"
A broad-shouldered man with a buzz cut and a scar across his chin looked up. His gaze scanned Sbu from top to bottom — the cheap hoodie, the worn sneakers, the unsure stance.
"You here for lessons?"
Sbu nodded quickly. "Yeah, I, uh… wanna learn how to use a sword. You know, just in case the world ends or something."
The man didn't even blink. "Reasonable."
He walked over, wiping his hands on a towel. "We charge E200 for the month. You can come every day if you survive the warm-ups. Most schools closed down after that 'Voice' thing, so this is all I'm running now."
Sbu blinked. "E200 for the whole month?"
"Yup. You break a sword, you buy a new one. Deal?"
"Deal." He handed over his money before he could change his mind.
"Good choice," Lungelo purred in his head. "Now try not to embarrass me."
---
The man pointed to the back of the hall. "Start with warm-ups. Twenty laps. Then squats until your legs question their existence."
Sbu groaned. "Twenty— what? I came here for sword training, not a marathon!"
The man grinned. "You'll hold a sword when your lungs stop crying."
So Sbu ran.
One lap. Two laps. By the fifth, his soul was already begging for an ambulance.
Lungelo's voice drifted lazily in his mind. "Breathe evenly, cub. You can't fight monsters if you pass out from cardio."
"Easy for you to say," Sbu wheezed. "You don't have legs."
"Exactly. I'm efficient."
---
After what felt like hours, he collapsed on the floor, chest heaving. Sweat soaked his shirt, and his vision blurred. Around him, other students were stretching or practicing footwork patterns that looked way too complicated.
The instructor tossed him a wooden sword. "Not bad. You didn't die. That's always a good start."
Sbu took it, gripping the handle awkwardly. "So… how do I swing this without losing a finger?"
"Simple," the man said. "You don't think — you move. Qi or not, a sword doesn't care. Respect the blade, control your breath."
Lungelo snorted. "He means stop flailing like a scared chicken."
"Shut up," Sbu muttered.
The instructor raised an eyebrow. "You say something?"
"Uh— motivational self-talk!"
---
That night, when he returned to the orphanage, Sbu's muscles screamed with pain. He lay on his bed, face buried in his pillow.
But despite the soreness, there was a flicker of pride.
He had actually started.
The world outside, however, wasn't slowing down.
His phone buzzed nonstop with notifications.
> 🌍 ALERT: TIER 1 SPIRIT BEASTS SPOTTED IN NORTHERN AFRICA
🇳🇬 Nigeria and Egypt report multiple casualties
⚔️ Global emergency declared — governments collapsing
Videos played of massive beasts tearing through cities — giant, half-formed creatures that looked like they'd crawled out of nightmares and myths.
One looked vaguely like a lion made of sand and lightning.
Lungelo hummed thoughtfully. "Huh. I think I dated that one."
"...You're joking."
"Half joking."
---
Sbu turned off the phone, heart pounding.
His world — everyone's world — was changing faster than anyone could keep up.
And for the first time, he didn't just feel like an observer.
He felt like someone preparing — quietly, stubbornly — to fight back.
> [System Interface]
Host: Sibusiso Mthembu
Tier: 0 (Mortal)
Qi Capacity: 100%
Exp: 12 / 500
New Skill: Basic Sword Handling (Lv. 1)
Guardian Spirit: Lungelo — The Lazy Lion
Objective: Keep training. Stay alive. Try not to die of leg cramps.