The final bell of the day rang with a hollow metallic echo that lingered in the corridors long after the students had begun to disperse. Voices rose and overlapped, some tired, some excited, some already talking about the task. Felix stepped out of the classroom a moment later than most.
His partner disappeared again before he could say anything. Well, there was nothing he could do about it.
After packing up his things, he was also ready to leave.
He did not follow the usual path back to his shelter.
Instead, he turned slightly to the right, choosing a route that curved behind the main academic wing and led toward the academy's expansive training grounds. It was not an unusual decision. Students took that path daily, some out of habit, others out of necessity. Training was as much a part of their lives as lectures, and for some, even more important.
Felix walked at a steady pace, neither hurried nor slow, blending easily into the small stream of students moving in the same direction.
A pair of second-years passed him on the left, animatedly discussing techniques for beast combats.
Ahead, a group of first-years walked together, their voices filled with equal excitement and uncertainty as they speculated about their progress.
There were others too, quieter ones like him, walking alone or in pairs, each carrying their own thoughts about their beasts and some were still talking about the task.
As the buildings thinned out, the space around them began to open.
Unlike the advanced training facility of the Aurora Beast Academy, it was more practical and natural here.
The training field stretched wide across the far end of the campus, a vast expanse carefully designed to accommodate different forms of practice. It was one of the most important facilities in the academy, evident in both its size and structure.
The ground itself was divided into two main sections, clearly separated by a long reinforced barrier that ran across the field. On one side, the beast training area sprawled outward, filled with varied terrain that mimicked forests, rocky plains, and even shallow water zones. The design allowed beasts of different types to train in environments suited to their nature.
Occasional roars, screeches, and the heavy thud of movement could already be heard from that side, along with the calls of students directing their bonded companions.
The other side was more structured, more controlled. The human training field consisted of flat, durable ground divided into multiple sections marked by lines and boundaries.
There were sparring zones, practice dummies, weapon racks, and even small enclosed arenas for more focused combat exercises. It lacked the wild unpredictability of the beast section, but it carried its own intensity.
Felix's gaze drifted briefly toward the beast training side. He watched as a student directed a large, wolf-like creature through a series of movements, the beast's muscles rippling as it leapt over obstacles with precision. Nearby, another student struggled to maintain control of a smaller, more erratic creature that darted unpredictably across the terrain.
For most, their bonded beast was the heart of their strength.
Unfortunately, for Felix, it was not.
He shifted his attention away and continued forward, stepping onto the human training side without hesitation.
The air felt different here. It was quieter.
"It looked like no single soul was training their own body today," Felix spoke to himself.
Of course, those who awakened with a beast, need to focus their training with their beast. The more their beasts grew stronger, the stronger their owner would become as well.
But since Felix's condition was special, or more like, unusual, he didn't need to follow the same method to become stronger.
Looking around, he found the atmosphere very relaxing.
He set his bag down near the edge of one of the open practice platforms and took a moment to roll his shoulders, loosening the tension that had built up during the long hours of sitting in class.
His situation was not ideal.
Among the students of the academy, having a beast partner was not just an advantage. It was an expectation. Most combat strategies, most lessons, even most evaluations assumed the presence of a capable beast companion. Strength was often measured not only by the individual, but by the synergy between human and beast.
Felix did have a bonded beast.
But it was not one suited for combat.
He had come to terms with that early on, though acceptance did not make things easier. If anything, it made the gap between him and others more apparent. While others trained alongside creatures that could fight, defend, and adapt in battle, Felix could not rely on such support.
If something unexpected happened, if he were ever forced into a situation where combat was unavoidable, he would be alone.
That reality shaped everything about how he approached training.
Felix stepped into an open section of the field and positioned himself in front of one of the practice dummies. It was a simple construct, designed to withstand repeated strikes, its surface marked with faint lines indicating vital points.
He raised his hands slowly, settling into a basic stance.
His knowledge of combat was not exceptional, but it was solid. He understood the fundamentals well enough. Balance, positioning, timing. He knew how to throw a proper punch, how to shift his weight to maintain stability, and how to read the movement of an opponent, at least slightly above a basic level.
These were things anyone could learn with enough practice.
What made the difference was consistency.
Felix exhaled quietly and stepped forward, delivering a controlled strike to the dummy's torso. The impact produced a dull thud, the sound absorbed by the material.
He did not rush into a flurry of movements. Instead, he continued at a measured pace, each action deliberate. A punch, a slight pivot, a second strike. His footwork followed a simple pattern, one he had practiced countless times before.
It was not impressive to watch but it was effective.
He shifted his stance again and adjusted the angle of his next strike, aiming slightly higher. His knuckles met the surface of the dummy with a sharper sound this time, the impact traveling up his arm in a brief, familiar vibration.
There were limitations he could not ignore.
Without a combat-capable beast, his margin for error was smaller. He could not rely on a partner to cover his weaknesses or create openings in battle. If he made a mistake, there would be no one to compensate for it.
That meant his fundamentals needed to be reliable.
Not perfect, but dependable.
He stepped back, inhaled, then moved forward again, this time incorporating a defensive motion between strikes. A block, followed by a counter. The sequence was simple, almost repetitive, but repetition was the point.
On the other side of the training field, an instructor walked between groups of students, occasionally stopping to offer brief guidance to the students. Their presence was steady but unobtrusive, allowing students to train independently while still maintaining a level of oversight.
Unfortunately, no one came to guide on Felix's side.
It wasn't unusual for a spirit beast awakener to train himself, but most people spent more time improving the synergy between them and their bonded spirits.
That's why before their awakening, most of them focused on building up their body, but once their bonded spirit appeared, they naturally shifted their training routine that would benefit the user and their beasts.
Felix continued his routine, gradually increasing the pace of his movements. Sweat began to form along his brow, though he paid it little attention. His focus remained on the rhythm of his actions, the way his body responded, the small adjustments he needed to make.
There were gaps in his skill set.
He knew that.
His experience in actual combat situations was limited. Most of what he knew came from structured training, controlled environments where the variables were predictable. Real combat would not be like that.
Real combat was chaotic and unpredictable.
That was another reason he trained the way he did.
He could not replicate true combat conditions here, but he could prepare himself to react. To move without hesitation. To rely on muscle memory when conscious thought might be too slow.
He paused briefly, flexing his fingers before resetting his stance.
Around him, the training field remained active. Some students had moved on to more advanced drills, and others were just beginning. The sounds of effort and exertion filled the space, creating a steady backdrop that made it easier to focus.
Felix took a deeper breath this time and stepped forward again, his movements sharper now, more precise. There was a slight shift in his expression, a subtle tightening of his focus.
He was not trying to compete with anyone here.
He was not trying to stand out.
He was simply trying to close the gap between what he was and what he needed to be.
Another strike landed, followed by a quick adjustment of his footing. He imagined an opponent this time, not just the unmoving form of the dummy. Someone faster, stronger, more experienced.
How would he respond?
Where would he move?
What would he do if his first attack failed?
These were questions he could not fully answer, but he could explore them through motion.
He shifted to the side, avoiding an imagined counter, then followed through with a controlled strike aimed at an opening that existed only in his mind. It was not perfect. His balance wavered slightly for a moment.
But he corrected it immediately.
That was part of the process too.
Mistakes were inevitable. The important thing was recognizing them and adjusting.
Time passed without him noticing.
The light began to soften as the afternoon edged closer to evening, casting longer shadows across the training field. Some students began to gather their things, their training sessions coming to an end. Others pushed on, determined to make use of every remaining minute.
Felix eventually slowed his movements, the steady rhythm of his practice easing into stillness. He exhaled, lowering his hands as he stepped back from the dummy.
His body felt heavier now, the accumulated fatigue settling into his muscles.
But it was not unpleasant.
He reached for his bag and took a moment to drink some water, his gaze drifting once more toward the barrier that separated the two sections of the field. The sounds from the beast training side had not diminished. If anything, they seemed more intense now, as if the creatures there were feeding off the energy of their handlers.
On the other side, a female student with silver hair was directing her bonded beast.
"Again! Jump and roll! Then shoot Ice Blade!"
Hearing her command, the beast with fur as white as snow roared, then executed a jump and roll as she commanded. After that, it produced three Ice Blades in the air and shot toward the dummy target.
All the Ice Blades hit their mark.
Felix paused for a moment, the voice sounded slightly familiar, but not familiar enough for him to recognize it on the spot.
Felix decided not to dwell on it. Whoever that person was, he couldn't distract her.
He adjusted the strap of his bag and took one last glance at the human training field. Some students were still practicing in their own ways.
Without another word, Felix turned and began to walk back toward the main campus, his steps steady despite the lingering fatigue.
There was still lots to do back to his shelter. He also needed to grind his farm.