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Chapter 3 - Again

He made it back to the academy. The sun was setting; time only passed by a little despite how long he spent down there. He swiped back into the school and went to his dorm. 

He had three days until induction. He'll use those days to train as much as he can. His brain remembers how to use the sword, but his body doesn't. However, training wasn't the main issue, it was the heroines. He was positive that the only way for the world to succeed was to get their favor and help in defeating the final boss, but how would he do that?

Feelings couldn't be forced. He found that out the hard way. Seline, Mico, and Yanin. He had to capture their hearts somehow, but he…didn't want to. He didn't want to lower his pride just to get stomped on over and over and over again. 

Forget it, he'll deal with those issues later. Axel was tired, so he shut his eyes, drifting off to sleep with ease. 

He woke up and immediately checked his phone.

10:36 AM

He refilled his water bottle and went straight to the training room. He was the only person there as of now. There were other students like him who had early access to the school facilities, but they were all probably still asleep. 

He grabbed a wooden sword and started practicing his swings and footwork. As expected, it felt heavy and forced. His body was fragile and thin, he would need to work on the foundation before trying anything. 

A few seconds into sprinting and I was already out of breath. So I switched to jogging.

After jogging, I did some basic exercises.

Push-ups: two.

Sit-ups: twenty.

Squats: ten.

Jumping jacks: thirty.

Not in one go, of course. He wasn't suicidal. He took a three-minute break between each.

To build calf muscles, the easiest option was the exercise bike. Axel didn't have earbuds or headphones. But there was no one else here yet, so he figured he could play music out loud.

And what did a cultured man like himself choose?

"California girls, we're unforgettable.

Daisy Dukes, bikinis on top.

Sun-kissed skin so hot, we'll melt your popsicle.

Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh"

Absolute cinema. 

He pedaled in rhythm with the music, sweat dripping down his temple, his breathing sharp but even. Between reps, he practiced swings, footwork, and breathing control.

Eventually, he walked over to the combat dummies, the robotic ones.

Select Difficulty:Easy Mode

He clicked it without hesitation.

The robot powered up, drawing a dull training blade, its movement slow and basic, like a beginner swordsman.

Axel stepped into range, tightening his grip on his wooden sword.

His mind unfolded the sequence effortlessly, parry, step in, cut diagonally across the torso.

The robot's blade inched forward.

Axel's arm shot up, but his wrist lagged a beat behind. The parry missed by a finger's width. The flat of the robot's sword smacked against his ribs with a harsh thud.

He stumbled back; breath caught in his throat.

Stupid. Again.

The robot advanced.

Axel lunged. His foot dragged, his blade lagging a fraction too slow. His swing skimmed the edge of the robot's shoulder, barely a scratch.

A slow, predictable counter came for his side.

His body twisted the right way, late. He caught the hit against his hip.

Again.

Again.

His mind screamed instructions.

His body followed, sluggish and sloppy, always a step behind.

His breathing turned ragged, the weight of the wooden sword dragging like lead in his hands.

His footwork collapsed inward. His grip faltered.

The robot tagged him cleanly on the shoulder. Then the ribs. Then the leg.

He reset his stance. He swung anyway.

Miss.

Miss.

Miss.

His shoulders trembled. His legs burned.

But he didn't stop.

Even if the swings were too slow. Even if his body was an uncooperative mess.

The robot paused, waiting for him to reset.

He didn't.

He swung again. And again. And again.

Until his wooden blade slipped from his hands, clattering to the floor.

Axel collapsed onto his knees, sweat soaking through his shirt, chest heaving. His muscles ached. His lungs burned.

He sat there for a moment, catching his breath. Then he dragged himself back to his feet, picked up the sword, and reset the dummy.

He was at this limit. The problem was obvious. His mind knew what to do but his was unfamiliar. He was too slow, too weak, and too stiff. He couldn't beat the robot with bare strength, but his body couldn't keep up with the strategies he was thinking.

Axel took in a deep breath. He was so locked in that he didn't realize all the other people who came in the room. He noticed a few indiscernible stares pointed towards him, but when he stared back, they turned away. 

He grabbed his phone from the corner he placed it in and checked the time.

6:25 PM

He'd been training for more than 6 hours. If his body wasn't sore as fuck, he would've strived for more, but it was time to go. 

He dragged his beat-up body to his dorm and collapsed on the bed.

Tomorrow, again.

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