Long, golden streaks of morning sun spilled through the high, arched windows of Room 402, warming the wooden floorboards. I let out a low, ragged groan as I slowly peeled my eyes open. Every fiber of my body felt utterly pulverized.
The surging adrenaline from the Yamata Clan's ambush had evaporated while I slept, replaced by a suffocating, leaden exhaustion and the dull, persistent ache of battered ribs.
Shifting painfully onto my elbows, I cast a glance across the room, fully expecting to find Sensei still unconscious on his bed.
To my absolute disbelief, Sensei was already awake.
Not only was he awake, but he was sitting calmly at the small wooden table in the center of our dorm. He was casually blowing the steam off a hot cup of instant ramen, looking as peaceful as a meditating monk.
He didn't look like a man who had just survived a death match with a syndicate leader, nor did he look like someone who had nearly suffocated trying to protect his students.
*No way he also has ramen,* I thought, my empty stomach giving a jealous twist.
Ging and Saki were awake as well, both standing in front of the table.
"Sensei, I'm not lying!" Ging insisted, leaning forward with his hands planted on the table. "When you passed out—or whatever happened—the fire guy dropped a paper as he was leaving. And it said something about Tenebras Superamus." He hastily pushed his cracked glasses back up the bridge of his nose.
Ayashi paused.
He slowly lowered his cup, resting it on the table with a soft thud. He didn't look alarmed, nor did he look surprised. He simply raised a single, thick eyebrow, his dark eyes entirely unreadable.
"What are you talking about, kid?" he asked, his voice calm and entirely indifferent.
Saki spoke up next. "He's not lying, Sensei," she stated, her tone flat and deadpan. "We all saw it. The writing was silver. It had their name on it."
Over by the far window, Tsume scoffed loudly. He was already fully dressed, leaning against the stone wall with his arms aggressively crossed over his chest.
He deliberately avoided looking at any of us, his gaze fixed intently on the courtyard below.
"Whatever," Tsume muttered, his tone dripping with bitter dismissal.
Ging frowned, looking over his shoulder. "You aren't saying we're lying, right? You were there with us."
Tsume just glared at him from the corner of his eye before turning his head back to the window, completely brushing aside the question.
I dragged myself out of bed and limped over to the table. "What's his problem?" I whispered to the group.
Ayashi closed his eyes and gave a subtle shrug. "The kid's been like that all morning. I don't know what happened to him. He's usually cold and arrogant, but it is never this bad. It's defensive."
"I think he's still a little mad about yesterday," Ging whispered back. "He froze up when Sensei got caught in the Vacuum Shear. I guess he doesn't want to be seen as weak or something."
Ayashi sighed softly. "I wouldn't blame the kid. Nobody wants to be seen as weak, and considering who his dad is, he has no choice but to project strength."
Saki scoffed quietly, entirely unimpressed.
I leaned forward, squinting as the morning light caught the right side of Sensei's face.
What I saw shocked me. "Wait a second... Sensei, how is your bruise already healed? You face-planted directly into solid cobblestone last night. Saki had to put a hot towel on your face. There isn't even a scratch left!"
Saki smiled as Sensei let out a long, slow sigh. He picked up his cup again, slurping a leisurely mouthful of noodles before locking eyes with me.
"It's simple," Ayashi explained, effortlessly shifting into his authoritative, instructor tone. "Once a swordsman's spirit core fully awakens and they learn how to actively control their Boru, their entire physical constitution undergoes a fundamental change. It isn't just about weaponizing energy. They instantly get ten thousand times stronger, faster, more agile, and more durable than the absolute peak of a normal human."
Sensei tapped his right cheek, right where the massive purple welt had been just a few hours ago. "Since I am stage three, third evolution, and a complete master of my Boru, those baseline multipliers are vastly different for me. I am one quintillion times as durable as a regular, baseline swordsman. My healing factor scales with that durability. A minor contusion from some gravel is completely repaired by my Spirit Core while I sleep. The 'passing out' you saw was just my body immediately shutting down all non-essential functions to force a rapid recovery cycle after I overexerted my spirit core."
The room fell silent as the sheer, terrifying weight of his power settled over us.
I glanced back over at Tsume.
He still hadn't moved from the window. The dark cloud hanging over him was practically suffocating. He was acting incredibly bummed out, though his massive ego would never allow him to admit it out loud. We all knew exactly what was eating at him. His pristine, aristocratic worldview had been completely shattered last night.
When the fighting started, he had frozen up in pure fear, standing there trembling while the rest of us moved.
The shame of that cowardice was burning him alive from the inside out, making him lash out with a bitter attitude just to mask his embarrassment.
And I had one question for him: "What would his father think of that?"
Suddenly, Ging's stomach let out a massive, rumbling growl that echoed loudly in the quiet room.
"Well," Ging said, offering a weak, hopeful smile. "I'm glad you're healed up, Sensei. Because I'm starving. You promised us the biggest bowls of ramen on the island today that aren't in Nihon Village, to make up for not getting it yesterday."
Saki immediately elbowed him in the ribs.
"Oww!" Ging yelped, clutching his side in pain.
"Read the room. It's not the time for that," Saki reprimanded.
Ayashi laughed, a deep booming sound. He stood up from the table, smoothing out the front of his uniform. "We're not getting ramen today."
Ging deflated, but Ayashi's expression grew serious. "Last night proved that you, as a group, aren't prepared for the brutal reality of this world. So, today, we're doing something else. We are going to have our first-ever in-squad sparring sessions.
I need to see exactly where each of you is at currently, both physically and mentally, before I can begin actually teaching you."
Tsume's head snapped up. He reluctantly pushed himself off the wall and walked toward the group, a dark, dangerous smirk finally forming on his lips.
"Someone's excited," Saki noted stoically.
"Let's do this," Tsume said, his voice completely devoid of its earlier shakiness.
Twenty minutes later, we were standing under the blistering morning sun in the Academy's Eastern Training Grounds.
The courtyard was a massive expanse of hard-packed dirt, surrounded by towering wooden walls and racks of heavy oak *bokken*—training swords.
The atmosphere between us was incredibly tense. We hadn't ever fought against each other before. Sure, we had clashed a little on the boat, but that was different. We weren't a squad back then. Now, everything had weight to it.
Tsume had already grabbed a wooden sword from the rack, giving it a few vicious, blindingly fast test swings.
The air literally hissed as the wood violently cut the wind. His pale eye was razor-sharp, completely devoid of last night's fear. He was treating this sparring session like a life-or-death execution.
This was his chance. He desperately needed to humiliate someone to win his pride back—to prove to himself that he was still the superior, elite prodigy he believed himself to be.
And looking at the absolute venom in his glare as it locked directly onto me, I had a sinking feeling I knew exactly who he wanted to use as a punching bag.
Ayashi walked to the center of the dirt ring, crossing his thick arms.
He looked at the four of us, his gaze analytical and cold, clearly sensing the powder keg of tension ready to blow.
"Alright. The rules are simple. You fight until someone yields, or until I say it's over," Ayashi announced, his voice booming across the empty courtyard.
He looked down at his small clipboard, a slight, knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth before he looked back up.
"Shujinko. Tsume. Step into the ring." He pointed a thick finger at the dirt between us, his eyes flashing with anticipation. "You two are up first. Don't hold back."