The students quickly cleared the center of the training hall, forming a wide ring around what would serve as the arena. Tension buzzed, murmurs broke out among the onlookers. The only question left was who would face the newcomer. Several eager voices called out, volunteering for the exercise, but Instructor Roswald already had his mind made up.
"Alex. Welt," he said, his tone casual but clear. "You two seemed awfully confident the last time Sunless and I crossed paths here. Why not show us if that confidence holds up in a proper duel?"
Sunny's gaze shifted to the two boys as they were called. But as his eyes scanned the small crowd, he noticed someone was missing—someone important.
The one who had glared the hardest. The one who, if Sunny had to guess, held the deepest grudge.
"If I may, Awakened Roswald," Sunny spoke up, voice steady. "There was another boy with them that day. I was hoping I'd get the chance to face him."
A ripple of silence passed through the crowd. The energy shifted.
Roswald turned to him, his expression unreadable for a moment before softening.
"That won't be happening, kid. Edward fell into his First Nightmare a week after our conversation. He made it through, but now he's out there. Poor brat barely had time to prepare. Lucky for him he had some guidance, being a legacy and all."
Then Roswald shook the moment off and flashed his usual confident smile, rallying the mood. "But enough brooding. We've got a fight to watch. Well? What's it going to be, boys?"
"I'll go," said Alex.
The boy stepped forward with quiet resolve. He had a narrow face framed by long bangs that brushed the sides of his cheeks. Pale skin, dark eyes. He didn't look afraid of Sunny—just tense, his nerves flickering more from the weight of the attention than from his opponent.
All eyes were on them now.
Alex held a wooden training sword, his stance textbook-perfect. Across from him, Sunny stood empty-handed, unarmed by choice.
Most of the students assumed he'd head toward the weapon racks. Instead, Sunny advanced.
Before anyone could react, he lunged forward. His left foot slammed down, anchoring him, while his right leg snapped up in a swift, high arc, crashing into Alex's side.
The blow landed hard.
Alex staggered, caught completely off guard. He fumbled his sword upward in a clumsy attempt to block, but the kick connected with his bicep instead, making him wince and stumble a step back.
Even Roswald raised his eyebrows.
"I told you," he muttered. "No weapons for someone like you."
Annoyed, Alex retaliated.
In that moment, it was made clear once again, this wasn't going to be a test of strength. Sunny didn't need a weapon. He needed patience.
And his opponent's lack of it was his greatest advantage.
Alex came forward again, his movements quick but increasingly reckless. Swinging without rhythm. Attacking without awareness. Sunny saw the holes immediately, tiny windows of vulnerability that appeared with every swing, every misplaced step.
The first time he brought the training sword down in a vertical arc, Sunny shifted smoothly to the left and countered with a sharp punch to the arm. The strike lacked force, his frame was still too light, his muscles were weak, but he knew the perfect way to move,.
Alex struck again, wider this time. Sunny slipped back, staying just outside the blade's reach.
He could feel the frustration building. It was in the way Alex's grip tightened. In the flicker of disbelief on his face.
Thoughts were written on his face. 'How is he dodging everything?'
The next attack came fast, a full-body lunge. But Sunny had seen it coming. He pivoted, deflecting the strike with the outside of his forearm, pushing the blade away. In the same motion, he stepped in close, grabbed Alex's wrist, and yanked it toward himself.
Before the other boy could recover, Sunny drove his knee into Alex's chest.
The sound that escaped Alex's lungs was sharp and raw, air rushing out all at once.
Sunny let go and stepped back, composed, silent.
The entire gym had gone still.
Roswald's expression didn't betray anything, but Sunny could feel his gaze.
He turned toward the instructor, meeting his eyes without a trace of arrogance, just quiet certainty. The fight was over. And no one could deny who had won.
"Is this serious?"
"What a beating, huh"
"Is he some legacy that teach paid for?"
The murmuring in the gym rose again, buzzing with excitement and disbelief, until a boy with tanned skin and a shaved head stepped into the circle, stretching his neck and with his eyebrows clenching down.
"Okay" Sunny said he yawned mid-word. "Let's just get this over with." Sunny blinked lazily at him.
"No" The new challenger spoke.
Crouched beside Alex, helping his winded friend sit up. "Fighting an unarmed opponent would disgrace my clan. If you want a real duel, pick up a weapon."
Roswald gave a slow nod from the sidelines, clearly understanding Welt's stance.
Sunny raised an eyebrow. 'Another legacy?" He hadn't expected that, for all he knew, the only one who was a legacy in this class was Edward.
'Gods, so many minor clans playing at greatness. Still clinging to old names like it meant some power.'
"Fine," Sunny muttered. "Let's play the honor theater, then."
He turned and headed toward the weapons rack. The selection made him pause.
Just longswords and spears. Simple, traditional. Nothing else.
'This is it? A school of this level, and this is all they train with? What happens when they receive a memory weapon shaped like a Jian? Or a glaive? Or a rapier? They're setting these kids up to panic when something unfamiliar shows up.'
Behind him, Welt's voice rose, no longer calm.
"Theater?" he snapped. "You really don't know your place, do you? Since you got here, you've shown zero respect to anyone. You act like you're better than all of us, like some kind of god. But you're just a kid. Younger than most of us, and still looking down your nose like you rule the place."
Roswald moved to step in. "Alright, that's enough. Let's all calm—"
"No!" Welt cut him off, his voice sharper than before. "With all due respect, Instructor Roswald, you're letting him get away with everything. You overlook his arrogance, his lack of discipline. Just because you like him doesn't mean he deserves special treatment."
The room went quiet again.
This time, no muttering. Just stillness, students glancing at one another, unsure of where they stood.
Roswald's expression remained calm. He had words for this, of course. But now wasn't the time.
"Enough talking. Raise your sword."
Sunny had already chosen his weapon—a simple wooden sword, slightly longer than the others. He'd caught the start of Welt's outburst, but the rest? It barely registered.
Because the truth was, Sunny was struggling with something far more pressing.
He was very, very sleep. Expecting the boy to have said some nonsense of honor, Sunny appeared ready to begin.
The moment Roswald gave the signal, the tanned boy lunged forward with a direct, well-measured strike. Unlike Alex's unsafe swings, Welt moved with restraint, his stance solid, his feet light. He wasn't just throwing strength around. He was re trained.
Sunny stepped back, letting the blade pass in front of him, feeling the wind off its arc. His eyes narrowed.
They circled. Sunny gave ground easily, weaving just outside Welt's range. His own blade stayed low, mostly unused, acting as a decoy. His real focus was on watching, learning, timing the rise of the shoulders, the flex in the knees, the pace of Welt's breath, doing it without shadow sense was something unusual, but not something completely new.
'As expected... His style's nearly identical to the Valor retainers. Set patterns, all pride, no adaptation.'
Then Welt's next blow came harder, closer. Sunny caught it with the edge of his wooden blade, but the sheer force rattled through his arms. He stumbled back a step, bracing himself.
'Damn, he's too strong, how unfair.'
Welt pressed the advantage, moving with the confidence, too much. Sunny blocked another swing, then another, but the effort was starting to wear on him.
And worse... he blinked.
Once.
Then again. Longer this time.
'Just... a little more...'
His mind fogged, the weight of sleeplessness crawling across the back of his neck like cold water. He swayed slightly as he adjusted his footing, narrowly dodging a thrust that would've slammed into his ribs.
'Fine' he thought, steadying his breath.
'Let's end this, then.'
Welt came in again, another classic overhead arc. Sunny let it pass just an inch too far, stepped in, and drove his shoulder into the boy's chest. It was a clean hit, Welt stumbled back, wide-eyed, caught off guard by the sudden change in tempo.
Then Sunny shifted completely.
No more circling. No more watching.
He exploded forward, cutting off angles, reading the first twitch of movement in Welt's shoulders and punishing it before the sword had a chance to rise. Every step he took forced Welt back. Every attempt at retaliation was shut down mid-motion.
Everyone was shocked, mesmerized by Sunny.
The wooden swords cracked against each other, but Sunny's control never wavered. He drove Welt into retreat, forcing him into reactive strikes that left little room for composure.
But then, Welt roared and struck.
A downward blow, pure force behind it, a strike meant to overwhelm.
Sunny raised his sword to block, but his arms, already tired, still numb from the earlier hit, buckled.
'Damn body!'
In the heartbeat before impact, Sunny let go. He threw his blade sideways.
It caught Welt's weapon mid-swing, twisting the arc just off-course. And in the same motion, Sunny stepped in and drove his elbow forward, clean and sharp.
It slammed into Welt's cheek.
The legacy boy reeled, stumbling back, the wood of his sword clattering to the floor.
Gasps erupted from the students surrounding them.
Sunny just stood there, catching his breath, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion.
"...That's eno-"
As he announced the end of the fight, the awakened could not believe what he was seeing.
Sunless body collapsed into the floor, his eyes tightly closed.
"What happened!?" He rushed to his body, all the students were confused by the scene, had Welt perhaps landed some attacks that they hadn't seen?
Until Roswald, with an incredulous voice and perhaps even wanting to let out a little laugh.
"He... he's asleep."
A boy succumbing to the spell within the school environment was cause for alarm, but they didn't have time for despair to take over.
"No reason to fuss, let me deal with the kid."
Jet's carefree voice warned that everything would be under control, when they noticed the presence of the woman in the black vest, blue coat, and abnormal beauty, everyone was impressed.