"First up, Raykar!"
Miyaki shouted.
"Heh, finally!"
Raykar stepped forward, gripping his dual axes tightly. His stance wasn't refined, but his fiery grin said everything as he fought with heart. The moment the match started, a vibrant yellow aura erupted around him, with the ground beneath his feet even cracking slightly as his muscles tensed.
"YAAAH!"
Raykar shouted, dashing forward with surprising speed. His axes whirled through the air like lightning, each swing heavier and faster than the last.
"So fast! He's charging in with all his strength!"
Leroy's jaw dropped in thought.
"Not bad! Your aura output's gotten smoother since yesterday."
Miyaki, with her wooden blade, parried every strike effortlessly, yet her smirk grew wider.
"Heh, I'm not done yet, sensei!"
Raykar bellowed, his swings growing even wilder. Each strike was like a storm, reckless, powerful, and filled with raw spirit, but just as he thought he had Miyaki cornered, her wrist flicked, and in one motion, she disarmed him. Both axes spun out of his hands and hit the ground.
"Wha—!?"
Raykar stumbled forward, but Miyaki tapped her wooden blade lightly against his shoulder.
"Dead."
She said bluntly. Raykar froze, then laughed loudly despite his loss.
"Hahaha! Haa... guess this makes it my 121st loss."
Leroy couldn't help but smile. Despite losing, Raykar's energy never faltered. His aura, his strength, and his will. It was all inspiring.
"Next up, Rosslin."
Miyaki called, her tone dropping into a more serious note. The tall, graceful girl stepped forward. Even at her young age, her posture carried elegance. Her long blonde hair swayed as she gripped a claymore nearly as tall as she was. To Leroy's amazement, she lifted it with practiced ease.
As soon as the match began, Rosslin stepped forward with a composed grace that contrasted Raykar's fiery energy. She lifted her heavy claymore with both hands, her movements deliberate and precise.
Her aura slowly unfurled, pure white, laced with silver threads, enveloping her in a serene radiance. Her long silver hair shimmered faintly under its glow, and her eyes sharpened, glowing with a calm, unyielding light.
Rosslin exhaled softly and sank into a defensive stance, the weight of her claymore steady in her grip. Miyaki raised an eyebrow with a smirk.
"Oh? Going full guard already? Alright then, let's test that wall of yours!"
In the blink of an eye, Miyaki darted forward, her strikes sharp and relentless. Her wooden sword clashed against the claymore again and again, each hit carrying incredible force.
Rosslin gritted her teeth, her arms trembling, but her form never broke. With a graceful spin, she retaliated, swinging her massive blade in a heavy arc. The ground beneath her cracked slightly as the white aura reinforced her strength.
Miyaki parried, then pushed forward even harder. Rosslin's glow intensified, her aura forming faint ripples in the air. She braced herself, eyes blazing with light, and absorbed Miyaki's assault with her claymore like an unshakable shield.
"Hm… very good! You've grown sturdier, Rosslin. Your defense isn't just solid, it's becoming art."
Miyaki grinned, stepping back slightly. Rosslin lowered her blade, breathing heavily but smiling with quiet pride.
"Thank you, Sensei."
Her calm words with a soft smile carried the determination to improve.
"Next up, Leyla!"
"Y-yes!"
Her nervous reply quivered in the air. With her smaller frame and timid posture, Leyla looked almost fragile compared to the others. She clutched a chokutō blade, slender and perfectly sized to her build, holding it close to her chest.
"Can she really fight with that small blade?"
Leroy tilted his head as he whispered.
"Don't underestimate her."
Kylen's voice was calm but firm, his glasses catching the light. A soft, knowing smile tugged at his lips as he kept his eyes on her.
Leyla stepped forward hesitantly, her knees shaking. But then, she stopped. Drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes as they opened again, her timid gaze sharpened into steel.
"There she is."
Miyaki's lips curled into a knowing smirk. She shifted into her stance. Then it appeared a dark-blue aura, subtle but razor-sharp, flowed around Leyla's body.
In a single blur, Leyla vanished from sight. Leroy's eyes widened as he barely caught the streak of blue while Leyla closed the distance, her chokutō slicing in a precise arc.
Miyaki's wooden sword snapped up just in time, sparks of aura clashing against wood, but Leyla wasn't done. She pressed forward, her right hand moving in rapid strikes with each swing so sharp and fluid it was almost invisible. Her blade became a storm, small but relentless, testing every angle of Miyaki's guard.
Her movements carried no wasted motion, with only efficiency, speed, and precision. Miyaki blocked them all, and her smirk widened. Leyla leapt back, breathing hard but keeping her stance with her blue aura still shimmering.
"That's our Leyla. Once she focuses, she's unstoppable."
Rosslin clapped lightly, smiling.
"Whoa! I didn't even see half of those strikes!"
Raykar whistled. Leroy's chest swelled with awe. She may be shy, but when she fights, she's like a different person.
After a long and intense clash, Leyla's blade began to slow, her small frame straining under the weight of Miyaki's relentless defense. Still, her determination burned, her dark-blue aura refusing to fade.
SWISH—CLACK!
In a swift motion too fast for the children's eyes, Miyaki slipped past Leyla's guard. Her wooden sword pressed lightly against the girl's neck.
The match was over.
Leyla froze, her blade trembling in her grip, then let it fall to her side with a shaky exhale.
"You have gotten quicker. Very good, Leyla."
Miyaki said, her smirk softening into a small, approving smile.
"Thank you, Sensei."
Leyla bit her lip, lowering her head in quiet frustration, but her eyes shone with fire. The others clapped from the sidelines, Rosslin especially giving her an encouraging nod.
"Now… last up, Kylen!"
At Miyaki's call, Kylen stepped forward, adjusting his glasses with a calm expression. Unlike the others, no excitement or nerves showed on his face, only quiet focus, but the atmosphere shifted. The other students glanced at each other with worry, as though they already knew what might happen.
"Kylen, are you ready?"
Miyaki asked, her voice carrying none of the playful smirk she used with the others. For once, her tone was serious.
"Yes, Sensei."
Both raised their wooden swords. Leroy watched intently, expecting to see an aura ignite around Kylen, but nothing appeared.
The match began.
Kylen lunged, striking with decent speed and precision. At first, his movements seemed ordinary, steady footwork, controlled swings, nothing flashy. He pushed forward, trying again and again to break through Miyaki's guard, but Miyaki deflected each strike effortlessly, her eyes sharp.
"Your form is good, but it's still too shallow."
Leroy's heart sank.
"He's not like the others. He doesn't have an aura?"
Kylen gritted his teeth, his determination unwavering as he tried to force an opening. Sweat dripped down his brow, yet every attempt was countered. Within minutes, Miyaki disarmed him with a swift strike, and he collapsed onto the grass as breathing hard.
The silence that followed was heavy. Leroy narrowed his eyes, watching Kylen carefully as he picked himself back up, his glasses catching the sunlight.
"That's enough. Rest."
Miyaki lowered her wooden sword, her expression unreadable as Kylen bowed silently, then walked back to the others without a word.
Weeks passed, and the training grounds rang each day with the sound of clashing blades, heavy breaths, and burning determination. Everyone pushed themselves, each with the same dream: to become stronger.
Then, one afternoon—
"Leroy! You finally did it!"
Raykar shouted, rushing toward him with his usual excitement.
"Your aura. It's blue, like a flame."
Rosslin followed with a warm smile, her golden hair swaying.
Leroy's body glowed faintly, the sapphire aura flickering like living fire around him. As the three of them, Rosslin, Raykar, and Leyla, gathered close, eyes filled with awe and just a hint of envy, but one among them stayed apart. Kylen. He stood in silence, his hand tightening on his wooden sword. No aura. No glow. Nothing. Despite training longer than Leroy, he remained the only one unable to awaken his power.
Leroy's smile faded as he caught sight of Kylen turning away, shoulders heavy, walking off by himself. Later, during the break, Leroy followed. He found Kylen in the far corner of the field, swinging his sword again and again, each slash sharp but desperate.
"Damn it! Why… why won't anything change?!"
Kylen shouted in frustration as he threw the swords down to the ground hard.
"Kylen…"
Leroy stepped forward.
Kylen paused as he turned around with his glasses slipping slightly, shadowing his eyes.
"Why can't I be stronger like everyone else? A person like me... weak, can't even take one step forward."
"How about you try another weapon?"
Leroy was quiet for a moment, then suddenly smiled.
"Another… weapon?"
Kylen blinked.
"Yeah, you're forcing yourself to use a sword because of what most of us use, so maybe your strength lies somewhere else. Maybe you have other talents that you might finally awaken with the right weapon."
Leroy said with a warm tone, and Kylen stared at him, stunned.
"Hm..."
"So don't give up, Kylen."
Leroy answered without hesitation.
As Leroy's words lingered in his heart, a small spark of hope lit within Kylen. When the day's training ended and the others left, Kylen slipped quietly toward the weapons storage. Rows of blades, axes, and hammers gleamed under the dim light. He hesitated, then decided.
If he couldn't find his answer in one weapon, he would try them all.
One by one, he picked them up to try to swing them around. A blade, too clumsy in his hands. A heavy axe, it dragged his arm down. A hammer, it lacked the balance he needed, even daggers felt wrong. Every attempt ended in frustration until finally, his shoulders slumped and his gaze fell to the floor.
That was when he saw it. A bow, lying against the wall.
Something about it drew him in as he started to set up a few fruits as makeshift targets, pulled the string back, and aimed. His hands trembled slightly at first, but then his vision steadied as his eyes locked onto the fruit with perfect precision.
Release.
The arrow soared through the air, striking clean through the apple's center. Kylen froze, stunned with his eyes widened. The aim, the focus. It felt natural, but then doubt crept in that this isn't swordsmanship. It isn't even melee combat.
"What am I doing…?"
Suddenly...
clap, clap, clap.
He spun around.
"S-sensei?!"
Miyaki stood a few steps behind, arms folded, a knowing smirk on her face.
"Nice vision you've got there, Kylen."
"Thank you, but this is just a bow. I'm supposed to be a swordsman."
"Why do you want to be the same as everyone else? Everyone has their own specialty, and the bow is not the only range weapon."
Miyaki tilted her head.
"What do you mean, sensei?"
Kylen blinked in confusion. As Miyaki's smirk widened, she grabbed a spear from the rack and tossed it at him without warning.
"Here. Try this."
"What's this?"
Kylen caught it clumsily, staring at the weapon.
"Go give it a try."
Miyaki said.
With a deep breath, Kylen adjusted his stance. The weapon he held, a spear, balanced with his movements, flowed naturally as he swung it in arcs, as it was light yet steady in his grip.
"Now throw it."
Miyaki instructed.
"H-huh?!"
"Go on. Aim at the fruit."
Though hesitant, Kylen aimed. His eyes focused, vision sharpening as if a crosshair aligned itself in his mind, and he thrust forward and released.
Whsshhh—
The spear flew straight, piercing the fruit dead center. Kylen's eyes widened as his heart pounded. For the first time, he felt it—a spark, a light, and a surge of excitement he'd never felt with a sword.
"Hmph, that's a spear. A weapon that can be used in close and far combat. I think that's what you're looking for, right?"
Miyaki crossed her arms as she smirked.
Kylen's hands trembled, and he picked the spear back up with his expression glowing in awe. Then, Miyaki turned, walking away with a rare smile.
"Sensei! Thank you very much!"
Kylen called out, bowing deeply. His voice rang with gratitude. Miyaki waved him off casually, but her smirk softened. She had seen it, the one step forward of Kylen. With that, he had truly found the path he could walk towards.
The very next day, when it was his turn to duel Miyaki, everyone's eyes widened in surprise—he wasn't holding a sword this time.
Instead, in his hands held the spear.
Even without the shimmering aura that marked the others, Kylen stood tall. He had not been born with aura power, but he had something else. A natural gift of precise vision.
As the duel began, his movements were sharper, cleaner. The spear flowed in his hands like it belonged there, striking in both sweeping arcs and pinpoint thrusts, and when he hurled it through the air. His accuracy was frighteningly exact, so precise that he could reclaim the weapon and continue seamlessly.
Though in the end, Miyaki still struck him down as she did with everyone else, it was different this time. Kylen didn't fall into despair this time as he saw the path forward for room to grow, and for the first time, he truly believed that he still could become stronger.
Then, Raykar, Rosslin, Leyla, and Leroy rushed to him, grinning, cheering, and even teasing as they grabbed him by the shoulders.
"We knew you could do it!"
Leroy said warmly, his voice carrying both pride and relief. The others laughed and celebrated, surrounding Kylen with genuine joy.
A year passed.
Under Miyaki's relentless training, the group grew stronger, sharper, and more determined with each day. They were no longer just children with dreams of becoming swordsmen.
One morning...
"Sensei, is this the new student?"
Leroy asked, tilting his head in confusion.
Miyaki stood with her usual confident smirk, one hand resting on her hip. Beside her stood a boy who looked out of place. His dark skin was smudged with dirt, his clothes torn and ragged from the streets.
His sharp eyes glared with a cold detachment, and though he said nothing, his presence felt heavy.
"Hey, kids! Found this boy around the streets this morning, and it seems like he has a great spirit. Ahh, what was your name again—"
Miyaki said, her tone lighthearted, eyes glimmering with interest. She tapped her chin as she looked up to the sky, then snapped her fingers with a grin.
"Ah, right. Skyler."
She ruffled his hair with her hand, but the boy immediately slapped it away, stepping back with a defiant scowl.
"Oh–"
Miyaki raised an amused brow. Before anyone else could say a word, Raykar leaned forward with his usual booming laugh.
"Haha! I see. Well then, it's nice to mee—"
Raykar's words were cut off by the newcomer.
"Tch, you all look weak."
Skyler clicked his tongue, smirking faintly as his eyes swept over the group.
"H-HUHHH!?"
Everyone froze, jaws dropping as eyes widened in shock at the sheer audacity of the boy's first words.