The morning sun filtered through obsidian glass, scattering crimson light across Asura's dorm room. He fastened Yamikami and Yōken at his hip, yawning as he walked toward the door.
Then he stopped.
His brow furrowed.
Something was bothering him.
"Yesterday… when I appraised Rhazor," he muttered, tapping his chin. "The results looked different."
Normally, Appraisal always displayed this:
Name, Age and Race. Level HP, MP, STR & Etc. Full stat distribution Titles Skills (Partial) And Elements
He'd seen Keith's.
Selene's hidden nature.
Erevos' godlike stats.
But Rhazor?
The screen had been formatted similarly to the academy's evaluation crystals:
Rank: A
Affinities: Fire
Title: Scaled Flame of Drakorth
Traits: Draconic Core
Short. Categorized.
Almost… simplified.
"System," Asura murmured, crossing his arms. "You always showed everything. Why did Rhazor's appraisal look like their format?"
A soft chime echoed.
[ SYSTEM RESPONSE ]
Adjustment made to match local data structure.
Another line formed:
Host learned of the academy's ranking system.
To prevent conflicting information, Appraisal adapted.
Asura blinked.
"So you adjusted yourself… automatically?"
[ Affirmative ]
The Academy categorizes power using Rank → Affinity → Title.
The previous display used Stat → Level → Skill.
Host now understands both structures. System aligned formats for optimal clarity.
Asura rubbed his temples.
"Great. Even my Appraisal has better study habits than me."
A new prompt appeared:
[ QUERY ]
Does the Host prefer:
Full System Sheet (Detailed stats — levels, HP, MP, skills)
B. Academy Format (Rank, Affinity, Race, Title)
C. Hybrid Mode (Automatically switches depending on intent)
Select A / B / C.
Asura didn't hesitate.
"C."
[ HYBRID MODE ACTIVATED ]
System will auto display full stats for threats, interests, or people Host focuses on.
Simplified rank format will appear for casual appraisal targets.
This change was made to support Host growth, not limit it.
Asura blinked slowly.
"…so you're basically evolving on your own now."
The text pulsed gently.
[ SYSTEM EXPLANATION (REDACTED) ]
Host possesses a unique system that adapts to environments and acquired understanding.
Certain skills and functions unlock only as Host grows stronger.
Another line appeared—almost teasing:
Before you ask: only the system can modify Appraisal.
You cannot rewrite skills.
Not directly.
Asura squinted.
"You can talk back now? When did that happen?"
[ RESPONSE ]
It always has been possible.
Host simply never asked the right questions.
He stared at the text.
"…that feels like a personal attack."
[ It was. ]
Asura choked on air, laughing.
"Alright. Hybrid mode it is."
He reached for the door.
Time to start class.
✦ Combat Class: "No Mana. No Aura. No Mercy."
The arena was massive.
Rows of obsidian bleachers curved around a stone floor marked with dueling rings. Above, arched windows bled scarlet light across the training pits. Dozens of students lined up along the wall, metal practice weapons stacked neatly beside them.
An instructor in dark armor — a broad-shouldered Oni with a jagged horn — slammed his halberd against the floor.
BOOM.
"Listen up, maggots!"
His voice echoed like thunder.
"In this class, you do not use magic. You do not use aura. You do not use any flashy abilities."
Students groaned.
"What—? No mana?"
"But how are we supposed to fight?"
Asura blinked.
"No aura? Why would anyone rely on aura to fight?"
He raised his hand, genuinely confused.
The instructor scowled, pointing the halberd at him.
"You. New kid. What!?"
Asura scratched his cheek.
"Just wondering… what's the problem with using normal strength and a weapon? Why would aura be cheating?"
Every student turned to stare at him like he'd just asked why people breathe air.
Rhazor leaned in, whispering urgently.
"Bro. You don't use aura?"
Asura hesitated.
"…I mean, I can? I just thought it was for… intimidation."
Like when I made that hellhound kneel when I was four.
The instructor grunted.
"No aura. No mana. If you can't win with muscle and technique, you're useless."
Rhazor winced.
"Yeah, so, about that 'aura' thing…"
Seeing Asura genuinely doesn't understand, Rhazor gestures for him to lean closer.
"Aura's not just intimidation," Rhazor whispered quickly.
"It's… how knights fight."
Asura blinked. "Knights have their own kind of mana?"
"No — aura isn't mana," Rhazor corrected. "Aura manifests through the soul."
Asura frowned slightly. "And magic comes from mana?"
"Exactly. Aura = soul. Mana = magic."
He held up his hands, drawing invisible diagrams.
"Think of it like this:
Mages master mana → spells.Knights master aura → body + weapon enhancement."
"Okay," Asura nodded slowly. "But what's the big deal?"
Rhazor glanced around, lowering his voice further.
"People don't normally get both."
Asura blinked. "Huh?"
"You can't master aura and magic. It almost never happens. Like—"
He squinted, trying to remember what he learned in class.
"—zero point zero zero one percent chance."
Asura raised a brow. "So… basically impossible."
"Exactly. If someone somehow mastered both… they'd evolve."
Asura froze.
"Evolve?"
"Yeah," Rhazor whispered. "Race shift. Class shift."
"You mean like… transforming?"
"More than that. Your soul changes."
Rhazor pointed at his chest. "That's where Magi come from."
Asura stared.
So that's what Magi are…
"And don't ask me more," Rhazor muttered. "That's all the old bats told us. Students aren't allowed any deeper info."
He shrugged, annoyed.
"Honestly, no one here knows much about Magi."
Asura's mind replayed Rhazor's words:
Aura = soul. Mana = magic.
Only one path… unless you force both.
He kept his face blank.
Meanwhile, inside his head:
…so I already don't fit into their rules.
"You two in the back!"
The Oni instructor roared. "Less flirting, more fighting!"
Rhazor nearly choked.
"We weren't—! Ugh, never mind."
He shoved a practice sword at Asura.
"Come on. You're good with a blade, right?"
Asura nodded casually.
Swordsmanship Lv. 143
Armament Willforce Lv. 7
Martial Demon Arts Lv. 4
"Well… I've used one once or twice."
Rhazor grinned.
"Great. Don't embarrass me."
Asura twirled the practice sword once — just enough to hide the fact that he didn't need aura or mana at all to pulverize someone.
He stepped into the ring.
✦ Combat Class — First Duel: "The Arrogant Noble vs. The Silent Dragon"
The instructor swept his halberd across the floor, carving a glowing arc of red light that formed a dueling circle.
"FIRST MATCH!"
His voice cracked like thunder.
"RHAZOR DRAKORTH vs… VARKON OF NIGHTFELL!"
A collective groan rippled through the students.
Varkon stepped forward — tall, smug, dressed in luxurious black silk embroidered with his noble crest. His fang-like horns were polished to a shine, and three servants scurried behind him fanning his ego with all the enthusiasm of slaves.
"Oh, this'll be good…" someone whispered.
"It's the Nightfell brat again."
Varkon smirked as he passed Asura, grabbing him by the shoulder.
"You."
His voice dripped arrogance.
"What corner of the Demon Realm did YOU crawl out of?"
Rhazor stepped between them, lightning snapping around his pupils.
"Back off, wannabe aristocrat."
Varkon scoffed. "Why defend him? He's weak. The mana test showed barely B-rank."
Rhazor's expression went flat.
Asura just smiled.
Mirage Veil really is working…
Varkon turned back to Asura with a sneer.
"You shouldn't be here. This academy is for elites. Nobles. Warriors. Not whatever cave troll dropped you off."
Asura blinked slowly, unfazed.
"I walked in from the front gate."
Giggles.
Rhazor choked on a laugh.
Varkon's eye twitched.
"You've got a mouth on you for a weakling."
Asura shrugged.
"You talk a lot for someone about to lose."
The crowd exploded.
"OHHHHHH—!!"
Asura glanced at Varkon.
Let's see what I'm dealing with.
[ Appraisal — Simplified Format ]
Name: Varkon Nightfell
Race: Demon (Noble)
Rank: C-
Affinities: Dark
Combat Style: Sword + Aura-enhanced strikes
Notes: Excessive pride observed.
Asura snorted.
C−? He really talks like he's SSS.
The instructor dropped his arm.
"NO AURA. NO MANA. BEGIN!"
Rhazor didn't even grab his weapon.
Varkon lunged immediately — wild, sloppy, all aggression and zero strategy.
Steel whooshed through the air—
SHHK—
But Rhazor wasn't there.
He sidestepped once, barely moving his head.
Varkon blinked.
"What—?"
Rhazor tapped the noble's wrist with the blunt end of his practice sword.
CRACK.
Varkon screamed, dropping his weapon.
The entire class gasped.
"Did he just—?"
"One tap. He disarmed him in one tap."
Rhazor yawned.
"Is your sword allergic to your hand or something?"
Varkon stumbled back, furious.
"You— You CHEATERS! You used AURA!"
Instructor Oni stomped the ground, cracking the stone.
"He didn't use aura."
He pointed with his halberd.
"He used footwork. The thing you abandoned since birth."
Laughter erupted.
Rhazor lowered his sword.
Smirking.
Calm.
"Do you want another go?" he asked politely.
Varkon snarled, rushing again.
A wild overhead swing.
Rhazor slipped inside his guard—
pivoted—
—and flicked the back of Varkon's knee.
THUMP.
Varkon face-planted into the arena floor.
Silence.
Instructor Oni raised his hand.
"WINNER — RHAZOR."
Rhazor walked back toward Asura, rotating his wrist like that was nothing.
Asura crossed his arms.
"That was brutal."
Rhazor shrugged.
"He insulted you. That's my job."
Asura blinked.
"…your job?"
"As your friend. Obviously."
Asura looked at him, stunned for a beat.
Friend…?
That's new.
He smiled.
Small. Genuine.
"Yeah. Obviously."
The instructor pointed his halberd directly at Asura.
"SATOMI! YOU'RE NEXT."
Asura exhaled slowly, stepping forward.
No aura.
No mana.
No Armament Willforce.
Just a wooden sword.
He smirked.
Let's see how far I can go… while pretending to be normal.
The crowd murmured.
"Who's he fighting?"
"Please be someone strong—"
"I wanna see him get crushed."
Instructor Oni slammed the board.
"ASURA SATOMI vs—"
A girl stepped out.
Tall. Pale. Silver eyes like ice.
A vampire noble.
"—LUCILLA NOCTRIS."
A ripple of tension hit the class.
One of the Vampire Princesses.
Asura grinned.
Interesting.
✦ Asura vs. Lucilla Noctris — "The Fang Meets the Blade"
The arena fell silent.
Lucilla stepped into the dueling circle like moonlight incarnate — tall, elegant, her silver eyes expressionless. Her long spear spun once in her hand, tracing a crescent arc that glimmered like a predator's smile.
Around them, students leaned forward.
"A spear? Against a sword?"
"She's a vampire noble—she'll bleed him dry."
Rhazor crossed his arms.
"Don't die," he said to Asura.
Asura cracked his neck. "I'll try not to."
Instructor Oni raised his halberd.
"BEGIN!"
Lucilla didn't wait.
FWOOOM—
She lunged with a blur of motion, spear thrust straight for Asura's throat.
Asura's blade met it.
CLANG!
The sound rang like struck lightning.
Lucilla twisted her spear, smooth as flowing water.
"You're slow."
"Just warming up."
She stepped, pivoted—
Her spear swept sideways.
Asura ducked—
WHISH—!!
The wind of her strike cut a line through the stone behind him.
He brought his sword upward.
TING— TING— TING—!!
Blow after blow collided, sparks shooting off like falling stars. Neither used mana. No aura. Just pure, razor-edge technique.
Lucilla smiled faintly.
"Not bad. But predictable."
She slid her spear between his guard and tapped his ribs — precise enough to land yet gentle enough not to break.
Asura staggered back a step.
The crowd murmured.
"…she tagged him?"
"With ease. That's Lucilla of the Noctris line."
Lucilla spun the spear behind her back and leveled it at him.
"That footwork…"
She tilted her head, unimpressed.
"Whoever trained you did a poor job."
Asura froze.
His grandfather's face flashed in his mind.
Lucilla continued, voice cool and cutting.
"You're strong, but your foundation is sloppy. Your movement—readable. Your stance—open. Whoever your teacher is… they taught you wrong."
A single nerve in Asura's forehead twitched.
She's insulting Grandpa.
Rhazor winced.
"Oh no…"
Selene's voice echoed in Asura's head.
You are your grandfather's blood.
Asura inhaled.
Then smiled.
Not polite.
Not casual.
Dangerous.
"…I'll take that personally."
He shifted his grip.
No aura.
No mana.
Just his body.
Swordsmanship — instinct.
CLANNNNG—!!!
Asura vanished.
One step — precise footwork.
No mana required.
Lucilla barely raised her spear in time—
CRASH—!!
The force drove her back, boots carving trenches in the arena floor.
Lucilla's eyes widened.
"…You were holding back."
Asura whispered:
"Now I'm trying."
They moved.
Not like students.
Like warriors trained by monsters.
Spear and sword clashed in a blur.
CLANG—! CLANG—! CLANG—!
Lucilla spun — spear carving a deadly arc.
Asura slid under, wooden blade slicing upward like a guillotine.
Metal rang. Sparks exploded.
"Too slow!" she taunted.
He twisted his wrist.
"Too talkative."
They collided again—
THOOM—!!
The impact sent a shockwave rippling through the arena.
The other students held onto the railings.
"Are they seriously not using mana!?"
"That's just… raw technique!"
Even the instructor looked rattled.
"These two… aren't normal students."
Lucilla's lips curved into a feral grin.
"Yes…" she whispered. "Fight back."
She launched herself high into the air—
—rotating mid-fall—
—spear descending like a guillotine.
Asura raised his sword—
BOOOOM—!!!
The floor cracked.
Dust burst up around them.
Lucilla whispered near his ear, inches from impact.
"Better."
Asura smirked through the dust.
"You haven't seen anything yet."
Both dashed. Footwork like phantoms.
CLANG—!
CRACK—!
SWISH—!!
Their weapons blurred into streaks of shadow and silver.
The crowd held its breath.
Lucilla thrust for his heart—
Asura angled his blade—
PING!
He swept her spear aside and pressed his wooden sword against her throat.
Lucilla froze.
Silence.
The instructor slammed his halberd down.
"STOP!"
Asura stepped back, lowering his weapon.
Lucilla didn't move.
Her silver eyes were wide…
and glowing with excitement.
"You—"
She stabbed her spear into the ground.
"—are not a B-rank."
Asura winked.
"And you talk too much during fights."
A beat.
Then she smiled — sharp and hungry.
"…fight me again—someday."
Asura walked back toward Rhazor.
Lucilla's gaze stayed glued to him like a predator discovering prey worth hunting.
Rhazor whistled low.
"You're gonna have problems."
Asura exhaled.
"No… I am the problem."
✦ Aftermath — "Even Without Power, Monsters Are Monsters"
The arena was still cracked and smoking.
Not from magic.
Not from aura.
Just from two students using weapons and technique.
Instructor Oni stood there, gripping his halberd like a lifeline.
"As per academy regulation… no mana, no aura. Hand-to-hand and weapon technique only."
He stared at the ruined tiles.
"…This was supposed to be a training duel."
Someone in the stands whispered in horror,
"A training duel did that?"
"They weren't even allowed to use aura…"
"What happens if they actually go all out?"
A vampire noble hugged her spear.
"That wasn't technique. That was war."
Lucilla Noctris did not breathe heavy.
She simply stood there — tall, perfectly composed, expression unreadable — like the battle hadn't raised her pulse even once.
Her silver eyes stayed locked on Asura.
Studying.
Analyzing.
Possessive.
Asura rolled his shoulder, resting his wooden sword on his back.
Rhazor finally found words.
"Bro. They said no mana, no aura. You two cracked the floor with footwork."
Asura shrugged.
"She insulted my teacher."
Lucilla blinked slowly. Her tone, cool and flat:
"I spoke the truth."
Asura stepped toward her, not aggressive — just unwavering.
"I don't care."
A ripple of tension ran through the crowd.
Lucilla's eyelids lowered just slightly — an almost reverent expression.
"That wasn't a duel," she said softly. "That was revelation."
Asura frowned. "…That sounds worse."
Another step closer — she was within arm's reach now.
Her voice dropped to a whisper only he could hear.
"In the beginning… you were dull."
"Gee. Thanks."
"But when you reacted—"
Her eyes sharpened, a tiny tremor climbing her voice.
"—your blade… sang."
Oh no, she enjoyed this.
A little too much.
Before Asura could respond—
Ping.
[ Appraisal Activated ]
Lucilla's status flooded his vision:
[ APPRAISAL ]
Name: Lucilla Noctris
Age: 16
Race: Pureblood Vampire (Royal Line)
Rank: A
Level: 150
HP: 15,000
MP: 5,000
STR: 20,000
AGI: 40,000
INT: 15,000
VIT: 5,000
Class: Spear Valkyrie (Bloodborne)
Skills (Partial):
• Moonfang Step (Advanced)
• Spear of Lunaris (Unique)
• Bloodline Sight (Master)
• Predator's Fervor (Passive)
Threat Level: Conditional
Behavioral Tag: Developing Combat Fixation
Note: Target has marked Host as "priority opponent" and is now pursuing further combat.
Asura stared.
"…Huh. No 'prey mate of interest' this time."
The system beeped again:
[ Update: Previous wording caused Host distress. I adjusted. ]
"…Thanks?"
[ You're welcome. Also — continued combat pursuit highly likely. ]
Lucilla tilted her head, eyes narrowing slightly.
"What are you looking at?"
"Just reevaluating my life choices."
Students whispered urgently:
"They didn't use aura… yet it felt like gravity got heavier."
"I swear I saw the arena warp."
"Is that even legal?"
Instructor Oni slammed the halberd down — HARD.
"DUEL OVER! And NO — no mana, no aura — that rule remains ABSOLUTE!"
He stared at the cracked arena floor.
"And thank the Abyss for that…"
Lucilla finally stepped back when ordered, still composed, spear resting elegantly against her shoulder. She didn't look away from Asura.
"You hid your true level," she said calmly.
Asura smiled. "Everyone hides something."
Rhazor rushed over and grabbed him by the shoulders.
"What the hell was that!?"
"A warm-up."
"WARM—??"
Lucilla turned her head toward them, voice low and controlled.
"Fight me again."
Asura walked toward the exit, waving lazily.
"No thanks. I don't duel stalkers."
Lucilla didn't blink.
"I don't stalk."
She took one step forward — enough to send a chill down several spines.
"I improve."
Asura kept walking.
Rhazor whispered, horrified,
"You're doomed."
Asura didn't even turn around.