By the time the sun dipped behind the far walls, the academy grounds were mostly empty—students tucked into Lectures, studies, or whatever merciless regimen their instructors had cooked up for the evening. Kurota wasn't doing anything important. Just walking.
Lucien had been quiet for most of the day, which was rare, but not unwelcome. The silence let Kurota replay Chloe's lecture in his head—Maryoku, Yokai, hunters, Yōryoku, arts, everything she had dumped on him in that frantic, overly-excited ramble of hers. Half of it made sense… the other half required long thoughts and maybe divine intervention.
He didn't get far.
A hand fisted into the collar of his uniform and yanked him backwards hard enough to make his teeth click.
"The hell do you think you're doing wandering around like some lost puppy?" Promto snarled, holding him like a kid getting dragged out of class. Dirt smeared across his attire, his hair was tied back lazily, and there were faint scratches across his arms—fresh wounds.
Tokinada stood beside him, leaning against the wall like he'd been waiting. "You've got guts, Kurota. Strolling around after we told you to study."
"I wasn't screwing around—" Kurota started.
"Yeah?" Promto cut him off. "Because it looks a lot like screwing around."
Kurota smacked his hand away. "I was learning. I went to the library."
Promto blinked, then burst into a disbelieving laugh. "The library? Who the hell studies at the library? That's even worse."
"I mean he's got initiative," Tokinada said, pushing off the wall. "Don't mind promto, he hates the library."
Lucien chuckled in his head.
You're getting lectured by children. Your at your lowest low eh..
Kurota mentally shoved him aside and glared at Promto. "You don't gotta act like my dad."
Promto gave him an annoyed look but didn't argue. Instead, he jerked his chin toward the courtyard. "Come on. We gotta deal with you now."
Tokinada slapped Kurota's shoulder as he walked by. "Principal's orders. Since we got caught skipping, we're stuck training you, and here I was thinking it was a one time event. Lucky us, huh?"
"And lucky you," Tokinada added with a smirk. "Because we're damn good at what we do."
Kurota let them drag him along, though he didn't complain too loudly. The courtyard was exactly as he remembered—wide stone tiles, slight burn marks, cracked pillars, and enough open space to kill someone if people weren't careful.
Tokinada stopped in the center. "Alright. Today we're teaching you the basics of Sub-Maryoku Arts."
Kurota crossed his arms. "Chloe already explained those for me."
"I don't give a shit," Promto said flatly. "Plus she talked. That doesn't mean you learned anything."
Tokinada grinned. "So we're gonna walk you through them. Hands-on."
Promto cracked his knuckles. "Very hands-on."
Kurota swallowed.
Lucien snorted, summoning imaginary popcorn.
Amuse me.
Kurota ignored him.
Tokinada stepped forward first, looping his arms behind his head as if stretching. "Let's start simple. Sub-Maryoku Arts are support disciplines—everyone can learn them, even without a unique art. Five main types."
Promto held up five fingers. "Kenryoku, Buki-Ryoku, Genryoku, Mahoryoku, Shinryoku. Get these through your skull."
Tokinada kicked lightly at the ground, his movements fluid, precise, almost dance-like. "Kenryoku's the one we'll focus on, because it's the one we've actually mastered."
"Speak for yourself," Promto muttered. "I mastered two."
Tokinada rolled his eyes. "Sure you did."
Promto shot him a glare but continued. "Kenryoku is martial arts that use Maryoku. Body reinforcement, Speed bursts—stuff that makes you hit harder than normal fists."
Tokinada flowed into a mock stance—low, bouncing, swaying on the balls of his feet. His footwork was smooth, almost musical, hips turning with every slight shift. "It's not just punching harder. It's rhythm n' flow. Knowing when to move, when to stop, and how to move."
Promto stepped forward. His stance was the opposite—grounded, still, coiled like a spring. "And then there's my version. Efficient. Hit the weak points. Break their base. Crush the lungs. End it fast."
Kurota stared. "Sounds like you just want bloodshed."
Promto shrugged. "Lucky for me, that's the job."
Kurota flexed his hands. "So what do I do?"
Tokinada cracked a grin. "We fight."
"Both of you?" Kurota asked.
Tokinada raised a hand. "Nah. One at a time. Beating your ass together would defeat the purpose."
Promto smirked. "And be too easy."
Tokinada rolled his shoulders. "I'll go first."
Tokinada stepped into the center of the courtyard, posture loose and playful. "Let's see what you've got. Remember—Rhythm n' Flow. Just instinct and whatever you've picked up throughout your life."
Kurota dropped into a stance he didn't really think about—it just came naturally. Chin tucked. Hands up. Weight centered. A little rough. A little sloppy. But It'll do the job.
Tokinada foot tapped the ground lightly. "Whenever you're ready."
Kurota moved first.
He lunged with a quick jab aimed at Tokinada's jaw. Tokinada slipped it effortlessly, his whole body swaying out of the way like the punch was a slow breeze. Kurota followed with a hook, then a low kick—whatever came to mind.
Tokinada danced around them all.
"Good speed," Tokinada said casually, leaning back from a punch. "Terrible technique."
Kurota swung again out of stubbornness. Tokinada ducked, spun, and tapped Kurota's ribs with a kick so quick Kurota barely saw it.
Air rushed out of his lungs.
"The hell—?"
Tokinada hopped back. "Use your hips. Street fighting only works until it doesn't."
Kurota gritted his teeth, rushing in again. This time he mixed low and high attacks, throwing more unpredictable swings. Tokinada deflected them with arms, legs, shoulders—using angles Kurota didn't even know existed.
Tokinada pivoted smoothly, sweeping Kurota's leg out from under him.
Kurota hit the ground with a grunt.
Lucien laughed in his mind.
You lasted longer than I expected.
Kurota scowled. "Shut up."
Tokinada offered a hand. "Not bad. Not good either. But not bad."
Kurota took the hand, standing shakily. "So what, I just suck?"
"Of course," Tokinada said cheerfully. "But that's fine. Sucking is step one."
Promto added, "Step two is me beating your ass."
Kurota groaned.
Promto cracked his neck. "My turn. And unlike ballet-boy here, I'm not going easy."
"I wasn't going easy," Tokinada muttered.
Promto ignored him and stepped forward.
Kurota set his stance again, but Promto was already in his space.
A knee slammed into his stomach before he even saw it coming.
Kurota folded, gasping.
Promto grabbed the back of his head, pulling him into an uppercut that snapped his jaw upward. Not hard enough to break anything—but enough to ring his skull.
Kurota stumbled back, barely keeping his footing.
"Come on," Promto said, eyes sharp. "You wanna be a hunter? Hunt."
Kurota forced himself forward. He swung wildly—quite desperate. Promto parried every hit with casual, brutal look on his face. His elbows clipped Kurota's guard, his shins crashed into Kurota's legs, and every hit carried weight behind it.
Kurota tried a feint into a low swing.
Promto answered with a spinning elbow that rattled his teeth.
Kurota hit the floor again.
Lucien let out a low whistle.
You're ass.
Kurota spat blood onto the tile. "I noticed."
Promto walked toward him. "Get up."
Kurota pushed himself up, chest burning, arms shaking. He swung again, not caring about form—just throwing everything he had. Promto avoided the first hit, blocked the second, caught the third, and drove a knee into Kurota's ribs.
Kurota felt the impact vibrate through his entire torso.
He collapsed a third time.
Tokinada whistled. "That's enough, Promto. He'll actually die."
Promto clicked his tongue. "He needs to learn."
Kurota groaned, rolling onto his back. "I… fuck… learned enough…"
Promto stared down at him. "What did you learn?"
Kurota groaned again. "That you're a petty bitch."
Promto cracked a grin. "Good. Lesson one accomplished."
Lucien snickered.
I learnt something to.
Kurota forced himself upright, swaying slightly. "I swear… when I get stronger…" He wiped his mouth, glaring at Promto through his bangs. "I'll beat the living shit out of you."
Promto blinked, then barked out a laugh. "I'd like to see you try."
Lucien hummed approvingly.
Can't wait to see that happen.
Kurota straightened as best he could. "Just watch.
The training continued for another hour—Tokinada correcting Kurota's stance, Promto drilling fist into him, both lecturing him about stability, breathing, momentum. Kurota absorbed what he could through the dull throbbing in his body.
By the end, he was barely standing.
Tokinada clapped him on the back. "You survived. Barely. That's a start."
Promto crossed his arms. "Don't get comfortable. Tomorrow we cover weapon forms."
Kurota stared at him incredulously. "Weapon forms? I can't even raise my arms."
"You'll live," Promto said. "Probably."
Lucien stretched inside his mind, amused and faintly impressed.
You took more hits today than most people could handle without dying. I'll give you that.
Kurota muttered internally, Gee, thanks.
Tokinada slung an arm around his shoulders. "Come on, rookie. Let's get food before you pass out."
Promto added, "Try not to puke."
Kurota managed a small smirk. "Not a chance."