The clang of steel echoed through the empty courtyard. Riven's blade carved the air in ruthless arcs, each strike landing with surgical precision. Sweat dampened the back of his uniform, but he didn't slow. Repetition was all he had.
He paused only to breathe, sword balanced against his shoulder. His chest rose and fell, steady, disciplined—until voices broke the quiet.
A group of students spilled into the courtyard, laughter bouncing between them. Their eyes landed on Riven immediately. Some grinned. Others smirked knowingly.
"Well, well… still out here swinging at straw, are you?" one called, his tone sharp as glass.
Riven said nothing. He adjusted his grip, turning back toward the dummy.
Another boy snorted, stepping closer. "You've been here how long, and still not a spark of mana to your name? Pathetic."
The group chuckled, circling past him like vultures. Then one of them leaned in just enough for his words to cut deeper.
"Good news, though. They found you a new playmate."
Riven froze mid-swing. His crimson gaze shifted sideways.
The boy's smirk widened. "This one actually has mana. More than you'll ever dream of. But guess what? He's just as useless as you."
Laughter broke out, sharp and cruel. Another chimed in mockingly:
"Maybe you two can start a club—mana-less and classless. A perfect pair."
They walked on, still chuckling, their voices fading into the academy halls.
Riven lowered his sword slowly, the insult gnawing at him. His jaw clenched, breath tightening in his chest. For a moment, the weight of the words threatened to drag him down.
Then he exhaled sharply, raising the blade again. His arms trembled, but not from fatigue. From fury.
The strike that followed split the dummy's frame in half. Straw exploded, wood splintered, and silence fell again.
Riven stood there, blade buried in the ground, his breath ragged. His reflection glinted faintly in the steel—hard eyes, a clenched jaw, and a vow etched deeper than any scar.
"Mana or no mana…" he muttered, yanking the sword free. "I'll still stand above them all."
But the name they had mocked him with, the one tied to this "classless" newcomer, lingered on his tongue.
Kairo.