Zachary continued learning under Teacher Julius for the next couple of hours, but toward the end, he found himself unable to focus. His mind kept drifting back to the same question:
'Would I even be allowed to participate in combat class again?'
His worries weren't unfounded. The looks he had received in the cafeteria made it clear—every Sleeper had already heard about his outburst. And worse, Zachary hadn't heard anything about the poor Sleeper's condition.
'Well. Whatever happens, happens.' Zachary sighed internally as he exited the classroom, finally free from the seemingly endless lecture.
But just as he was about to head toward the dojo, a voice called out behind him.
"Dreamer Zachary."
He turned and found one of the Auxiliaries who had been with Awakened Rock the previous day.
'Oh well. I guess I'll find out what's going to happen sooner than expected.' Zachary thought as the Auxiliary continued speaking.
"Awakened Rock instructed me to find you. I think you can guess what this is about, right?" the Auxiliary said with calm professionalism.
"Yeah, I figured. I was actually just on my way to the dojo," Zachary replied with an awkward smile. "Look, I want to apologize before anything else. I know my behavior yesterday wasn't exactly... appropriate. I won't make any excuses for it."
His tone was calm, measured—the same one he used back in his original world whenever he needed to talk his way out of trouble. He remembered, with a touch of self-mockery, how his friends used to call him "...-Lip."
A pang of sorrow struck him at his inability to remember his own original name, but he pushed it aside and continued.
"The Sleeper said some hurtful things, sure. But that doesn't excuse what I did. At the end of the day, I was the one who lost control. If it means anything, I'm willing to go and apologize to him."
The Auxiliary watched him silently, one eyebrow slightly raised. Once he finished, she finally spoke.
"Nice speech, kiddo—but don't worry so much. This isn't the first incident we've had like this." A slight smirk broke through her otherwise impassive expression. "Let's be honest—shit happens. I was a Sleeper once too. The new circumstances, the pressure, the stakes... it can all be overwhelming. We all react badly to complications sometimes."
Zachary was surprised. Beyond her stern and stoic beauty, the Auxiliary was showing a level of maturity and understanding he hadn't expected.
But her next words crushed what little hope he had.
"That said, I'm sorry to inform you: you won't be allowed to train with the other Sleepers."
"Huh?!" The sound escaped Zachary's lips before he could stop himself. He was about to argue when the Auxiliary raised a hand to stop him.
"Let me finish," she said with a slight frown. "The official reason is that the other Sleepers are uncomfortable around you. That's partly true—what you displayed yesterday is something most of them have never seen before. A few of them are Legacies and have encountered their share of struggle, albeit in controlled environments. But most of them come from mundane backgrounds. So yeah, your outburst shocked them."
Then she sighed and continued.
"But that's just the surface-level reason. The real one? The Sleeper you beat to a pulp yesterday is a Legacy. His clan's been acting out of line lately, and to keep them quiet, we have to keep you out of the class for now."
'What? That's the reason? That bastard really did deserve the beating.' Zachary thought with slight malice.
But as if she could read his mind, the Auxiliary smirked and added, "I know what you're thinking, but don't get ahead of yourself. Yesterday's matches were observed by several Academy Instructors—and one of them took an interest in you. I was tasked with taking you to him."
***
They began walking through the hallways, Zachary following closely behind the Auxiliary. At first, he was unintentionally drawn to the graceful sway of her back, but after five minutes of walking, his thoughts drifted elsewhere.
'Just… just how far are we going? This part of the Academy looks almost abandoned.'
Eventually, he decided to voice his concerns.
"Excuse me, miss. What kind of person is the instructor who's going to teach me?"
The Auxiliary flinched slightly—almost imperceptibly—but Zachary caught it with his enhanced vision. She let out an awkward laugh.
"He's… haha, he's an eccentric person. But I don't think there's anyone in this Academy who's achieved more than him." She quickly added, "Please don't mention that I called him eccentric."
That response only left Zachary with more questions than answers, but he chose to face whatever was coming with an open heart.
Eventually, they arrived at a worn training room, its condition so poor it looked as though no one had cared for it in years.
"Well, here we are. Good luck, Zachary," the Auxiliary said—and before he could respond, she practically escaped with nimble steps.
"What the…" Zachary muttered, frowning at her reaction. Something was definitely off. With a resigned sigh, he stepped into the training room.
'I didn't even get her name.' he thought with a small smile.
The room was worse than he had imagined. Though thankfully clean—he couldn't spot a speck of dust—that was the only positive. The walls and floor were heavily worn, revealing the raw material beneath the peeling surface. As he glanced around, Zachary finally noticed an old man standing at the far end of the room.
"So the misbehaved brat has arrived, hoho," the man said with a small chuckle. "You know, when I offered to train you, the rest of the instructors were against it. But I went ahead anyway. Do you know why?"
The man began walking toward him.
"I don't really know," Zachary replied honestly. Normally, he might have tried to guess or cracked a joke. But his thoughts were fixed on something else.
'This man… he's just a mundane human…'
Just as Zachary realized this truth, the old man chuckled again.
"Hohoho, you noticed, didn't you?" Zachary flinched slightly.
"Yes… You're not Awakened."
"But don't let that blind you," the old man said, now only a few steps away. "There's no fiercer old man in this Academy than me. Now answer the question, brat—why do you really think I volunteered to teach you?"
The man looked around eighty-five years old, but he radiated vitality. His posture was unnaturally strong, as though only his skin had aged, while everything beneath had defied time. With his enhanced vision, Zachary could see the details most would miss—the taut muscles hidden beneath worn skin, the quiet readiness in every movement. This man wasn't just standing—he was coiled, alert, prepared to act.
So Zachary quickly recapitulated the fight from the day before—if it could even be called a fight. He had mostly dodged, then ended it with just a few clean moves. That's when the answer clicked.
"You... you noticed my vision," Zachary said, surprise flashing across his face. During the initial interview, he had only vaguely mentioned his enhanced perception—nothing too specific.
"Yes, hohoho. Smart," the old man replied, circling around him like a hawk. "That's right—it takes an experienced eye to spot another. The way you dodged in that match... those weren't the movements of someone trained through repetition. No, they were the result of instinct—of precise timing and reaction."
He stopped behind Zachary, and just as Zachary turned to face him, he found a finger pointing directly at his eyes. "The truth is, brat, you're experiencing a completely different world than the rest of us."
The old man smiled widely, almost proudly. "So I'll be teaching you. What does your bad attitude matter? Nothing that a proper beating can't fix."
Suddenly, the old man seemed taller—his presence swelling to fill the worn-out room.
"Name's Eddard," he said, voice rich with pride. "I was Captain of the Special Forces during the Fall of the Nightmare Spell. Pleasure to meet you, brat."
***
To say Zachary was surprised would be an understatement. 'This man... this man stood during the most dire of times. And fought back,' he thought with newfound respect.
They stood in silence for a few moments before Zachary spoke up. "So... how are we going to train? A few basics to get the hang of it?"
"Hohoho. No, no, no," Eddard said with a warm smile—but his words sent a chill down Zachary's spine. "You know, I'm more of a 'Do it before you think it' type. So... clench your teeth."
{_^_}
'Oh fuck, not this again,' Zachary thought, as flashbacks of Dahrio's beatings resurfaced. But thanks to the warning sense—and his vision—he managed to dodge the jab Eddard threw at his face.
The old man didn't stop there. A flurry of punches came next, so fast Zachary wondered whether Eddard was really as old as he looked. Zachary dodged most of them, but some came from angles he couldn't predict—blind spots. He was forced to block those with his arms.
'Wait, blind spots? Am I even supposed to have blind spots?' he thought, stepping back to avoid a sudden low kick.
Eddard raised a bushy eyebrow, and a dangerous gleam lit his eyes. He stopped for a moment, adjusting into a martial stance, his sharp gaze studying Zachary's. Something flickered in the old man's eyes—clarity—and then he struck again.
Zachary was ready this time. 'Well, he might be a mundane human, but the Auxiliar said he's achieved a lot. Let's learn whatever I can from him.' A right punch shot toward his ribs.
'Let's not dodge. I'll block it with my arm and countera—' His thoughts were cut off by a sharp pain in the side of his left knee.
"Aghhh! What—?!" Zachary faltered, the sudden pain dropping him slightly. Eddard didn't hesitate. He grabbed Zachary's shoulders and aimed his knee into Zachary's gut.
'What the hell was that? First lets block the knee and—' An elbow to his chin interrupted that thought, staggering him. Eddard's strikes weren't overpowering—he was a mundane human—but they were efficient, clean, deliberate. Each one targeted a vulnerable point, and they hurt even through a Dormant's enhanced resilience.
'That's not the important part! How is he—'
"You focus too much, brat. You're misusing those eyes of yours," Eddard said with a mocking smile, throwing a kick at Zachary's leg. Zachary braced himself, raising his leg—only for his eyes to go wide as the kick bent midair, transforming into a high kick that crashed into his temple. A question mark kick?!
He barely managed to turn his head, reducing the impact. But he finally understood what was going on. "You bastard," Zachary muttered, breathless. "Are you... are you using my own eyesight against me?"
Disbelief and a pang of shame welled up in his chest. How? His vision was his, dammit—how could someone else use it to beat him? Worse, Eddard's attacks hadn't triggered a single warning from [Cinder Eyes]. The old man had somehow masked his intent.
"Hohoho, aren't you a sharp one?" Eddard said, circling him again. "I already told you—you focus too much. Preoccupied with a single leaf, you'll miss the tree. Preoccupied with a single tree, and you'll miss the forest." Then he attacked again.
Zachary tried to dodge—he really did—but whenever he reacted to an attack from one side, another blow came from nowhere. Block the face, and a kick would land on his ribs or legs. Watch the hands, and the feet struck. It was chaos disguised as structure.
And all the while, the same thought haunted him: 'He's turning my greatest strength into my biggest weakness.'
Zachary's brain went into overload, struggling to make sense of the situation. And his mind answered. Even amid the chaos, his mind remained clear and sharp—thanks to [Balance Control]. Slowly, understanding began to dawn. 'He said it himself just moments ago. I focus too much. My vision is too well-developed... too well-developed even for me. I've been using it the same way I always did—like a normal person. I focus on what's important and filter the rest. But now that my senses have evolved, that habit's become a flaw.'
He managed to dodge a shoulder bash—barely—but Eddard grabbed his arm and swept his leg from under him with a low kick, sending him crashing to the floor. 'Son of a bitch!' Zachary cursed, rolling quickly to put distance between them.
'So now what? How do I let go of something I've done my whole life? Habits like these—they're burned into your consciousness. You don't even think about them anymore. They just are.'
But that's exactly what he needed to do.
Zachary decided to leave those questions for later. If dodging was useless, then he would attack. Eddard's technique was precise, with strong foundations and highly effective against humans—but Zachary knew a deadlier style. With the control granted by his Aspect Ability over his mind, Zachary recalled Dahrio's movements. And with the control over his body, he mimicked them. After all, these same moves had been engraved into his mind and muscles through pain and lightning.
Eddard unleashed a series of punches and kicks, but instead of dodging, Zachary dove straight into them. He chuckled in self-mockery. This was, at best, a crude imitation—an insult to Dahrio's flawless technique. But it worked.
Zachary aimed for Eddard's inner elbows with his wrists and palms, interrupting the flow of momentum. Then he abruptly released all strength from his right arm and, twisting his waist, drove the limp hand into Eddard's shoulder. Just before impact, Zachary tensed every muscle in his back and arm. Dahrio's palm technique.
It connected. Eddard was pushed back slightly but quickly caught his balance. A surprised expression flashed across his face. "What was that just now?" Eddard asked, halting his attacks.
"A palm technique," Zachary replied honestly. There was no use in keeping it secret. But deep inside, he grimaced. 'Compared to Dahrio's, this one lacks everything that made it deadly. It's a poor imitation... but it's an improvement.'
"Where did you learn it?" Eddard asked, visibly intrigued.
"Inside the Nightmare. A resident of the past used it on me."
"And you... just learned it?" Eddard said in disbelief.
"Well, I mean—it's not perfect. The one used on me caused internal damage. It hurt like hell." Zachary shrugged slightly, the memory of that beating still vivid and painful.
"You— You— Hahahahaha!" Eddard burst out laughing, covering his face. "You know, it was just a gut feeling when I chose to train you... but you're really just like him."
"Like who?" Zachary asked, his curiosity piqued.
"Yes, like Broken Sword. You've heard of him, right? I actually taught him a little when he was a Sleeper, just like you," Eddard said nonchalantly, as if it were no big deal. Zachary's mind short-circuited.
'THE Broken Sword!? The novel never went deep into his story, but what was revealed showed that his ability to understand brought him to the pinnacle of the Awakened—he reached Supremacy.' Zachary stood there, stunned.
"The Broken Sword?" he asked, just to make sure.
"Do you know any other Broken Sword?" Eddard chuckled. "He had a perception ability, kind of like yours. It let him learn things through their core components—especially combat techniques. And you—hah! You just show up and say you learned a complex technique from a Nightmare."
He laughed again, then let out a tired sigh.
"I made the right decision to teach you. Let's continue, kiddo!" Eddard said with renewed energy as he lunged toward Zachary.
But this time, Zachary wasn't flustered. He took this as an opportunity—to fully take control of his new Body Control.
They clashed again. Eddard still held the advantage, but Zachary was no longer defenseless. Using Dahrio's technique, he deflected most of the old man's attacks. The ones that landed still stung like hell, but now, Zachary managed to land a few of his own. And through this exchange, he found what he'd been seeking. He began expanding his field of vision.
He was no longer just focused on Eddard—he saw the room behind him, the cracked tiles, the wrinkles in Eddard's uniform, the way the dust shifted beneath their feet, the glint of sweat on their skin. His mind buckled briefly under the flood of input, losing clarity.
Eddard took advantage of the opening without hesitation. But it didn't last long. Zachary recovered quickly, and this time, his vision was fully under his control.
And through it, he reached an understanding. 'My vision... combined with my computational ability and my control over the body—this lets me grasp combat techniques with precision. I can see exactly how someone executes a movement. My mind records it with clarity. And my body... my body can replicate it perfectly.'
Zachary smiled as his arm met Eddard's in a solid clash.
He understood the path forward.
It wasn't just mastery over the body or mind.
It was mastery over himself.