The combat lesson began. Kayden was eager to finally test his skills. The students were herded out into the courtyard, where the training ring stood waiting like a stage for blood and pride. Rough stone walls boxed the area in, torch stands lined the perimeter, and the packed dirt floor bore the scars of countless clashes, footprints, gouges from blades, even a few dark stains that hadn't been washed out.
The day was fading, and the orange glow of sunset draped itself over the ring like a curtain about to rise.
Social circles were well-defined here, but now, all talk was about Kayden. It was rare enough for someone to come from the Collision Zone, let alone at his age.
"Hey!" Logan clapped a hand on Kayden's shoulder. "Don't sweat it, man. You've got a Regal Contract. Once you show that off here, people will stop giving you crap."
The instructor was a short, stocky, bald man. Clipboard in hand, he started calling names.
"Today we'll be doing three-on-three matches," he announced, his voice booming against the courtyard walls. "Teamwork is vital for every soldier. Only rule: destructive contracts will result in suspension."
Kayden watched as the first groups formed. Most banded together by friendship; roommates, dorm buddies, cliques already set in stone. It was obvious who would be left over.
The courtyard buzzed with noise as the instructor barked,
"Three-on-three matches today. Remember—teamwork wins battles. Only rule: destructive contracts mean suspension."
Groups formed quickly, friends clumping together, cliques solidifying. Kayden already knew where he'd end up.
"Ludovisi! You're with him and him."
He turned to see his so-called teammates. One looked like he hadn't eaten in weeks. The other could barely hold onto his spear without shaking. Leftovers. The ones no one wanted.
Across the ring, their opponents stepped forward, polished weapons gleaming, uniforms crisp. The kind of rich academy brats who carried their fathers' names like armor. Their smirks said it all: this was going to be fun for them.
"Begin!"
They didn't even look at Kayden. They went straight for the other two. One charged with a sword, another with a hammer, while the third hung back, watching like a predator deciding which prey to toy with.
Kayden's partner with the sword tried to lift his blade, but his arms buckled under the weight. Before a strike even landed, he dropped the weapon.
"I can't," he stammered. "My family does business with theirs."
The other didn't last a heartbeat. His sweaty grip slipped, spear clattering to the ground. "Sorry. Better to quit now." He backed away without even pretending to fight.
Kayden's chest tightened with bitter disgust. He hadn't expected much from them, but to watch them fold this blatantly—here, in front of everyone—felt like betrayal.
So that was it. Three against one. And everyone watching.
The crowd's whispers prickled at his skin. The polished boys turned toward him at last: sword spinning lazily, hammer lifted, twin daggers flashing. They weren't here for a fight—they were here to humiliate the Collision Zone rat.
Kayden drew his plain dagger, knuckles white on the hilt.
'If it's a show they want… I'll give them one.'
The first strike came fast—a sword slicing the air past his cheek. The second came heavier, a hammer shaking the ground where he'd stood. He rolled aside, only to find the dagger-wielder already lunging for his back. Steel bit into his arm, drawing first blood.
The sword ignited in flame. Heat seared across Kayden's face as the instructor looked on, silent, ignoring his own rule.
'So their contracts are allowed. But if I use mine, I'm expelled.'
The three advanced as one, fire and steel closing in from every side. Kayden's breath grew ragged, his chest heaving with the effort. The blood trailing down his arm felt heavier with each drop, dragging at him as if trying to pull him under.
And yet, unsteady and bleeding, Kayden tilted his mouth into a crooked grin.
'Hope you brought your sunglasses, assholes.'
At first, it was only a spark in his palm, small, fragile, no brighter than a candle's flame. But light leaked through the gaps between his clenched fist, scattering in tiny, restless sparks, as though something vast and impatient was straining to break free.
He lowered his head and shut his eyes, raising his fist high above him.
Then, in the span of a heartbeat, it burst. The moment his hand opened, a flash tore across the courtyard, fierce and absolute, like the newborn sun had been ripped out of the sky and unleashed in their midst.
Light.
Screams erupted—not only from his enemies, but from the crowd itself, blinded and staggering under the sudden brilliance.
When the glare finally ebbed, the three golden boys were sprawled in the dirt, clutching their faces, tears leaking through their fingers.
"STOP!" the instructor roared at last, storming into the ring. "Match over!"
Kayden pushed himself up slowly, the taste of adrenaline still sharp on his tongue. Around the courtyard, every student stared at him with a mix of shock and… was that fear?
Adrian staggered upright with help, still blinking furiously. When his vision cleared enough, he glared at Kayden with burning contempt.
"Next demonstration," the instructor announced, eyes flicking over his clipboard with newfound interest. "Logan Ashford versus Serena Voss. One-on-one combat."
Kayden frowned. One-on-one? Weren't they supposed to be doing trios?
Logan entered the ring like a walking fortress of meat and steel. A two-handed axe rested on his shoulder, but its massive weight looked like nothing against his wall of muscle. Each step made the ground creak.
Serena, by contrast, seemed too light for the space she occupied. Her rapier twirled lazily between her fingers, her lips curved in a faint, detached smile. She looked bored. Yet, when she coughed briefly into her sleeve.
"Begin!"
Logan charged like a runaway boulder. The ground quaked with the force of his rush, and his first overhead strike carried enough power to shatter a wall.
The sound was deafening when the axe slammed into the ground. But Serena was already gone.
She slid aside, graceful as smoke. The rapier's tip brushed the axe's shaft, deflecting it with humiliating precision.
Logan spun, horizontal slash. The air whistled with the force, dust exploding from the ground. But the rapier was elsewhere, and Serena had already slipped behind him.
The thin blade tapped between his shoulder blades.
"One."
The whole ring murmured. Logan roared, face contorted with rage, sweat flying as he raised the axe again, unleashing a storm of steel. Each blow was thunder.
Serena moved within the storm. She didn't retreat, she advanced, turned, danced. The rapier seemed to be in three places at once, redirecting attacks before they even landed.
Logan's breath grew ragged, each gasp an effort. His body was a war machine, but every swing drained him further.
The second touch came almost casually, like she'd brushed him by mistake, this time on his right wrist, the exact point his strength flowed from.
"Two."
The axe faltered. Logan staggered back a step, not injured, but spent. The colossus was crumbling in front of someone who moved as if gravity itself bowed to her.
Serena raised her rapier again, but then her body betrayed her. A harsh cough tore from her chest, forcing her back half a step, her hand clutching the cloth at her sleeve.
"Enough," the instructor's voice cut through the silence.
Logan lowered his axe, heaving like a beast run to the edge of death. Serena, despite her flawless triumph, still trembled faintly with the cough she suppressed.
As Logan left the ring, Kayden noticed how every other student instinctively backed away. They weren't just impressed by Serena.
They were afraid of her.
"You."
The breathless voice snapped Kayden's attention.
He turned. Serena stood blocking his path, arms crossed. Up close, her violet eyes were sharper, like blades wrapped in velvet.
"Why a dagger?" she asked. "With your stance, with the way you move… You were born for a sword."
Kayden hesitated.
'Why a dagger? Because I damn well felt like it?'
"…I don't know."
She tilted her head slightly, studying him for another second. Then, the faintest smile touched her lips.
"A shame. You'd be far better with a sword."
Without another word, she passed by, hair catching the breeze.
Kayden stood still, thoughtful.
'Why does it matter so much to her what weapon I use?'
A sweaty wall slammed into him from behind. Or rather, Logan.
"Dude! Serena's like… liquid!"
"Get off me!" Kayden shoved him away, but Logan just grinned.
"If she didn't have such crap stamina—"
"She still fought better than you."
"True. That's how our fights always go. She transferred from the capital's academy; she's the real deal, honestly."
'There's an academy in the capital?'
"But forget Serena. What was that power?! You wrecked those spoiled brats!"
"It was just a trick. I don't even know if it'll work against Djinns."
"We'll find out soon enough."
Kayden raised an eyebrow, confused.
"You seriously didn't pay attention in class today?"
'Am I really getting a lecture from this guy?'
"Relax, I'll lend you my notes. Take a look and get ready, you'll need to form a group, fast. Expeditions start next week."
"And how long do I have to do that?"
"Tomorrow."
Kayden swallowed hard. One day. Just a single day to figure out the rules, find allies, and prepare for something he barely understood.
'I joined this academy at the worst possible time.'