■ Arrival in Sector‑11
The echo of boots striking steel rang through the massive hall as SG‑04 marched into the Combat Wing of Sector‑11. The air was laced with the faint hum of machines, the scent of heated metal and ozone.
Yuri, their instructor, stood waiting — sharp-eyed, her crimson hair tied back, every line of her body carved by years of battle. Behind her, leaning with his arms folded, stood Captain Arlen. A veteran — greying beard, scar lacing his jaw, one eye clouded white. His silence commanded as much attention as Yuri's bark.
Yuri's voice cut through the tension:
"Welcome, rookies. Forget 'Special Grade pride.' Here, you're not hunters. You're untrained blades. My job is to grind you until you're sharp enough to survive."
Even Claire, who usually couldn't resist mouthing off, stayed silent, her wolf-cut hair shifting as she shifted her weight under Yuri's glare. Noah stood calm as ever, but inside, his sharp blue eyes tightened their focus. Stephen crossed his arms arrogantly but said nothing — yet.
BOOM.
The heavy doors at the far end of the chamber swung wide.
Marching through in perfect formation was SG‑07. Another Special Grade squad. If SG‑04 were mismatched stones, but SG‑07 were carved daggers. Their presence alone drew the room taut, like predators stepping into a pen full of prey.
•Oliver (32) walked first. Towering, broad, his shoulders were unyielding. He didn't glance at anything — his calm gaze stayed forward, steady as an immovable wall.
•Joseph (31) rolled his neck, grinning, his hulking frame and scarred jaw practically asking for someone to take a swing. His presence was loud before he even opened his mouth.
•Emma (29) followed: quiet, calm, eyes like still water. Her presence wasn't dominating… but it demanded respect in a different way.
•Leon (30) brought up the rear. Intellectual sharpness glinted from behind his glass-like lenses. Like a chess master scanning pieces, he looked SG‑04 over without a word, already calculating their weaknesses.
The contrast was obvious. SG‑07 walked like predators already hunting. SG‑04 still looked like prey in training.
Stephen frowned at Joseph almost instantly.
Stephen (low to Noah): "Great. Another meathead who thinks he's god's gift."
Joseph (smirking, overhearing): "Careful, rookie. Pride like that's why they bury Special Grades early."
Stephen: "Wanna test that theory, tough guy?"
Yuri, snapping: "SAVE it for the ring. Anyone dares start shit in my hall, and I'll bury both squads together!"
Even Oliver cracked a faint smirk.
■ The Slaughterer Sanctum
They were led down into the Armory Vault beneath Sector‑11. The chamber was vast, circular, walls lined with dozens of sealed weapon cases. Each case glowed faintly, whispering of dormant power.
Captain Arlen finally spoke, gravel in his voice:
"Listen well. The weapon does not define the hunter — the hunter defines the weapon. Each of you is Special Grade. You will choose — and bend the weapon to your will. Fail, and it'll consume you from the inside. No cross-choosing, no second tries. One weapon, one life."
Then, Yuri's sharp gesture. "Step forward. SG‑04, choose."
Silence weighed heavy. One by one, SG‑04 stepped forward.
Noah
His eyes drifted across racks of halberds, axes, polearms, swords. Nothing pulled. Then — a silver long‑sword, its blade etched with faint moonlit inscriptions.
He reached for it. The sword resisted for only a heartbeat before its glow swelled, syncing with his pulse. A faint lunar aura spread across the vault.
Noah's grip firmed, voice calm:
"Feels… like it was waiting here for me."
Stephen: (snorts) "Great. Blue‑eyed, white‑haired, glowing sword boy. Real mysterious."
Claire: (whispering to Lyra, teasing) "Mysterious and kinda hot."
Stephen
Stephen's grin widened the moment his eyes fell on a colossal war‑hammer/axe hybrid, taller than many men in the room. Other trainees avoided even looking at it.
He grabbed it one‑handed, the chamber trembling. The floor cracked beneath its sheer mass — but Stephen spun it across his back like it was nothing. The weapon roared with energy, submitting to his raw might.
Stephen laughed.
"Now THIS feels right. Just my style — big, loud, and deadly."
Joseph (SG‑07) smirked: "Overcompensating, hammer‑boy?"
Stephen: "Nah. Just getting ready to smash your smug jaw."
Lyra
Precise steps. Intelligent eyes. Lyra ignored the heavier weapons and stopped at two short twin blades in mirrored cases. She held them both. For a breath they resisted, until a faint energy shimmered between them — subtle but unbreakable.
She twirled them expertly, movements balanced, composed.
"Two blades. Two chances. That's all I need."
Oliver (quietly to Leon): "Controlled. Efficient."
Claire
Claire rushed forward, eyes darting at spears and sabers. She grabbed a glaive — it turned cold and lifeless in her grip. A dagger — nothing. She puffed her cheeks, frustrated.
Claire: "What, am I weapon‑cursed or something? Seriously?!"
Suddenly — the far corner trembled. One sealed case shuddered violently before exploding outward. A chain‑scythe (kusarigama) flew free, its chain whipping wildly across the vault. Gasps filled the chamber as the blade barely missed several heads.
Claire's grin lit up. She stepped forward without hesitation, catching the wild chain mid‑whip, spinning with it until the scythe handle locked into her grip. The chain coiled around her torso, alive, dangerous.
Claire: "Ha! Finally. A weapon just as unhinged as me!"
Yuri: (pinches her nose) "Gods save us all."
Reactions :-
The vault hummed with finality — SG‑04 had chosen. Yet across the chamber, SG‑07 stood observing.
Leon (smirking): "Unpolished. Chaotic. But… interesting."
Joseph (to Stephen): "Hammer‑boy, I'm itching for our first spar. Don't go crying when I floor you."
Stephen: "You'll be lucky if you're conscious enough to cry, old man."
Emma (to Claire, gently): "Careful with that chain. It'll hurt you before it hurts anyone else."
Claire, throwing her a wink: "Thanks, big sis~. I'll keep you close when I blow things up."
Oliver stayed silent. His presence was steady, like an immovable wall. His eyes, however, locked on Noah — sharp, measuring, judgment hidden.
Noah returned the look calmly, but deep inside, his grip on his glowing sword tightened.
The line was drawn — SG‑04 with raw chaos, SG‑07 with polished discipline. Rivals had been born.
■First Combat Drills
The silence of the Slaughterer Sanctum lingered as both squads returned to the upper arena, weapons now hanging heavy at their sides. There was a shift in the air — where once SG‑04 walked as recruits, now each carried a weapon bound by will. It gave them power, yes — but also weight.
Yuri paced before them, her boots ringing against steel, her expression unreadable.
"Slaughterer chosen or not, you are still just recruits. You think carrying them makes you special? Wrong. It makes you dangerous to yourselves."
Her emerald eyes cut toward Claire, who was happily spinning her kusarigama chain absentmindedly.
"Case in point. Claire, one more circus stunt and I'll strap that thing shut until you learn not to slit your own throat with it."
Claire froze mid‑spin, chain wrapped awkwardly around her arm. "…Y‑yes, ma'am."
Suppressing a smile, Noah exhaled and touched the hilt of his glowing longsword. Stephen just laughed under his breath.
"Alright, listen up," Yuri barked. "Today, two lessons. One: how to fight as a unit. Two: how to control your Slaughterers without dying."
She raised her hand and gestured towards a partition wall at the far end. With a hiss of hydraulics, it split open, revealing an open training arena filled with worn marks, scorched floors, and broken dummies.
Captain Arlen's gravelled voice followed:
"SG‑04. You fight each other first. Learn what your partners are made of before you call them teammates."
■ Round One: Stephen vs Joseph
Yuri's gaze cut like a blade. "Arlen and I agree. Best way to start is to let off some steam. Hammer‑boy—"
Stephen lifted his chin with a grin.
"—and Scarface," she pointed to Joseph, "get in the ring."
A wave of tension rippled across both squads.
Stephen smirked. "Finally."
Joseph chuckled darkly. "Been waiting for this all day."
They stepped into the circular sparring arena at the center, both gripping their monstrous weapons. But before either could swing, Arlen's gravelled command stopped them.
"Slaughterers down. You'll learn fists before you learn death. Anyone can hide behind steel — let's see the warrior beneath."
Grumbling, they discarded their weapons to the arena's edge.
"BEGIN!"Yuri snapped.
Joseph charged first, swinging a brutal hook toward Stephen's jaw. But Stephen ducked, grinning as he drove his shoulder into Joseph's chest, batting him back.
"Gonna have to hit harder than that man!" Stephen taunted.
Joseph laughed through gritted teeth. "Gladly."
Back and forth, fists slammed like thunder. Stephen's raw force collided with Joseph's brawler's experience. Blood blossomed on both their lips by the fifth exchange.
From the sidelines Claire whispered, wide-eyed: "Holy crap, they're gonna kill each other."
Lyra, arms crossed: "No… they're enjoying it. Idiots."
Noah stayed silent, closely watching each move, each counter. Joseph hides his left side. Injury? Weakness? Stephen's arrogance makes him reckless…
Finally, Joseph slammed Stephen down with a brutal takedown. But Stephen, laughing, hooked his arm around Joseph's neck and rolled them both back into a clinch. Neither man let go.
"ENOUGH!" Yuri's voice cracked. "Match drawn."
The crowd of recruits exhaled as if they'd all been holding their breath. Joseph and Stephen staggered up, both spitting blood, both grinning like devils.
Joseph extended his hand. "Not bad, Stephen."
Stephen shook it firmly. "You either."
Rivalry… but respect had been born.
■Round Two: Claire vs Emma
Claire bounced into the pit, playful grin wide. "Alright! Let's see how much scary big sis is."
Emma stepped in without a word, calm posture almost insulting in its control.
Yuri: "FIGHT!"
Claire lunged, flailing with her usual unpredictable energy — wide swings, wild kicks. Emma sidestepped, deflecting each attack with calm precision. Claire tumbled forward, rolled, and popped up again with a laugh.
"Try to keep up!" she yelled.
Emma finally stepped in. One precise hook to the ribs, then a sweep of her leg — and Claire crashed onto her back with a squeal. Before she could rebound, Emma's hand was pressed lightly but firmly against Claire's throat.
Emma: "Yield."
Claire: (groaning) "…Fine! Fine, I yield!"
The crowd laughed. Even Lyra's lips curved in the faintest smirk.
Emma helped her up gently, brushing off her uniform. "Reckless energy won't save your life. Learn that."
Claire pouted, rubbing her elbow. Then she grinned. "Maybe you'll teach me. Big sis~."
Emma exhaled slowly — but not without the faint trace of a smile.
■ Round Three: Lyra vs Leon
The arena grew quieter the moment Lyra and Leon stepped forward.
Two tacticians. Two thinkers. Two predators hiding behind calculation.
Leon adjusted his glasses as if bored. "Ladies first."
Lyra's eyes steeled. "…Fine."
Yuri: "FIGHT!"
They circled. Calm. Measured. Neither rushing.
Lyra struck first — a sharp, precise jab aimed at Leon's chest. He blocked, turning her wrist as if testing her form more than trying to win. He struck back with a sudden elbow aimed for her temple, but she ducked, twisting for a sweep.
The exchange was clean, efficient: strike, block, counter. No wasted movement. It was less of a brawl and more of a chess match played with bones.
Claire leaned toward Stephen. "Oh wow, is THIS fighting or a synchronized dance?"
Stephen snorted. "Wake me when one of them bleeds."
Lyra finally broke the pattern, planting her palm straight into Leon's sternum and shoving him back a full step. His eyes widened faintly — he hadn't expected her raw force.
He grinned. "…Efficient."
Lyra, calm as ever: "And you're predictable."
Yuri cut in. "Good. Stalemate. Now sit down before you turn this into a philosophy lecture."
■Round Four: Noah vs Oliver
The hall vibrated with silence when the two names left Yuri's mouth.
Noah and Oliver stepped forward slowly, eyes locked from the first step. One calm, one silent. Both unreadable.
Lyra's sharp eyes narrowed. "Yuri's testing Noah already… against their strongest."
Noah stepped into the pit, his blue eyes calm, unreadable. Across him came Oliver — towering, broad‑shouldered, silent as ever. His steps echoed like weights dropped on metal.
The air itself grew tighter as they faced each other.
Even before the command, everyone leaned forward.
Yuri: "…BEGIN!"
Noah moved first. Lightning‑quick, sharper than expected: a jab aimed for Oliver's ribs. But Oliver was ready — his large hand swatted it aside with ease before pushing Noah back with a casual palm.
Bang. Noah's boots scraped against steel as he staggered back a half‑step. Oliver's face remained stone.
"Fast," Oliver rumbled at last, voice low and cutting. "But speed means nothing without weight."
Noah's eyes sharpened. "…And strength means nothing without precision."
This time, Noah shot forward with a flurry — jab, hook, elbow. Oliver's arms moved like granite slabs, blocking each blow. The sound of bone cracking against muscle echoed as Noah pushed harder, striking again and again.
But Oliver countered with one brutal knee strike straight into Noah's torso.
THUD.
Noah stumbled back, coughing. The spectators flinched.
Claire clutched her chain nervously. "Come on Noah… don't fold."
Oliver advanced suddenly, his size deceptive — every step like a boulder falling. He swung a devastating haymaker aimed at Noah's temple. Noah barely ducked under it, feeling the wind graze his white hair, before countering with a knee to Oliver's ribs.
Oliver grunted, surprised — but caught Noah's knee with both hands mid‑strike and slammed him into the ground.
The floor rang loud as Noah's back hit steel. Gasps rippled through the recruits.
Stephen muttered: "Shit…"
But then — Noah rolled, narrowly missing Oliver's boot stomping down where his head had just been.
Noah sprang back to his feet. Blood dripped faintly from his lip. His chest heaved — but his eyes? Ice‑cold.
He lunged again. This time not fast and wild — but calculated. He slipped under Oliver's guard, a sharp elbow snapping into Oliver's chest, followed by two sudden hooks.
THUD. THUD.
For the first time, Oliver staggered.
Gasps echoed through SG‑07.
Leon frowned, adjusting his glasses. Emma's eyebrows rose slightly in surprise. Even Joseph muttered, "Well, I'll be damned…"
Oliver recovered instantly, fury flashing in his eyes for the first time. He roared and slammed an overhead strike down with both hands locked. Noah blocked with his forearms, the impact exploding across the ring like two columns colliding. His knees buckled — but he didn't fall.
Noah's teeth grit, muscles straining. Oliver's size and weight bore down on him — but then Noah twisted his body, redirecting Oliver's force sideways.
Oliver stumbled forward a half‑step. That single opening was all Noah needed.
He exploded with a savage combination:
-A sharp uppercut to Oliver's jaw.
-A spinning elbow across his temple.
-A brutal kick to his stomach.
Oliver's massive frame finally crashed backward, slamming into the steel with the force of an earthquake.
The room went silent.
Oliver tried to push up, but Noah was already there. He grabbed the man's wrist, twisted, forced him back down with his knee pressing into his chest. His blue eyes weren't calm anymore. They were blazing.
For the first time, Oliver's stoic mask cracked. Pain — and respect — flickered in his eyes.
Noah growled through clenched teeth:
"Strength has limits. But precision?"
He pressed harder, his fist hovering inches from Oliver's face. The air was sharp, everyone leaning on the edge of panic.
"…Precision doesn't miss."
Silence.
Captain Arlen's voice broke it:
"ENOUGH!"
The command boomed. Noah immediately stepped off. Oliver sat up slowly, breathing heavy, blood at the corner of his mouth.
The recruits went wild with whispers.
"Did… did Oliver just lose?" someone hissed.
"To Noah? He beat Oliver?!"
Even SG‑07's calm formation cracked. Leon's eyes narrowed, Emma inspected Noah with calculating intrigue, and Joseph scowled as if insulted on behalf of his teammate.
Oliver, however, sat in silence, then slowly stood. His stoic face returned — but this time, approval lingered in his solemn eyes. He extended a hand."No weakness. No fear. You've earned your place," he said, voice quieter but heavier.
Noah gripped it back firmly, neither smiling nor backing down. "…And you've earned my respect."
The Reactions :-
Joseph scowled, fists clenched. The grin he wore before had died. "Tch… Oliver never goes down. Kid got lucky."
But deep down, for the first time, Joseph glared at Noah not just as a rookie — but as a rival.
Leon pushed his glasses up, eyes narrowing, analyzing Noah like a puzzle he couldn't quite solve.(Thinking) Calm demeanor, sharp precision, adaptability under pressure… Dangerous. More dangerous than he lets on.
Emma's gaze lingered longer than the others. Where Joseph bristled and Leon calculated, Emma observed."He reads opponents faster than most seasoned hunters. For someone so quiet… he's louder with his fists than anyone else here."
But behind her calm tone crawled the faintest ghost of a smile.
Stephen broke the silence first with a punch of laughter, clapping Noah's shoulder hard enough to sting."Damn, pale boy! I thought Stone Wall would grind you flat — but you knocked him off his throne. That was completely something else ."
His grin was wide — half pride, half challenge. For Stephen, Noah was no longer just the quiet kid on his team. He was a rival worthy of respect.
Lyra's brown eyes sharpened, arms crossed as she studied Noah like math on a board.
"You don't fight with brute force… you fight with patience. Precision. That's why you won."
Her voice was calm, but under it simmered approval. To her, Noah had proven not just strength — but intelligence.
Claire practically vibrated with energy. Her wide grin was split by flushed cheeks as she bounced in place.
"OH. MY. GOD. Noah! You were like— BAM! BAM! Then Oliver went down! That was… That was soo intense."
She clasped her chain to her chest dramatically. "Note to self: He is handsome and powerful..."
Lyra rolled her eyes. "Control yourself, Claire."
Stephen smirked. "I think she just got her first crush."
Claire winked, unashamed. " I guess, I did. And he's sitting right there."
Noah stayed silent, brushing blood from his lip, pretending not to notice Claire's eyes glued to him.
Captain Arlen's gravel voice finally sliced through the chaos.
Arlen: "Good. Damn good. You both fought very well....pretty impressive."
His cloudy eye gleamed faintly. The boy's more than he looks. Much more (referring to Noah).
Yuri's lips curved into something dangerously close to a smirk.
Yuri: "Hmph. Didn't expect much from you, Noah. Guess I'll have to raise the difficulty if I want to break you."
Her gaze swept SG‑07. "And Oliver — maybe you're not as unshakable as you thought. Learn from it. Both of you."
Oliver quietly nodded, but his eyes never left Noah — now no longer as an opponent, but someone to measure himself against.
When squads filed out toward the dorms, the air was different. SG‑04 weren't just rookies anymore. They had someone who had broken SG‑07's strongest guy.
Noah walked last, silent as ever, sword humming faintly at his hip. But this time, every set of eyes — rival, comrade, or potential admirer — flicked to him.
Claire waited at the door, her grin stretching ear to ear. "Hey, Noah…"
He turned his head toward her, eyebrow raised.
Claire smirked, biting her lip. "…Next time, try not to make me fall for you in front of everyone.....hahaha."
Stephen choked on his laugh. Lyra pinched the bridge of her nose. But Noah?
He just walked past in silence. His coolness only made her grin wider.