The next morning, Hyunwoo woke before sunrise.
The air outside was cold enough to sting, but that suited him fine. He stepped into the clearing behind the hut, spear in hand, and began.
The first few hours were slow — deliberate. He drilled the opening sequence from the book over and over: step forward, twist the hips, thrust. The move looked easy on paper, but in practice, it was a war between balance and power.
Every time his stance wobbled, he reset. Every time the thrust lacked bite, he repeated it until the sound of the spear cutting air was sharp enough to satisfy him.
His photographic memory replayed his father's illustrations and notes perfectly, as if the pages hovered in front of him. His semblance helps his body to move the movement as much as he could. But memory and semblance alone couldn't make his body stronger — that was where the work came in.
By midday, his hands were raw from gripping the shaft. He wrapped them in strips of cloth before continuing.
Day by day, patterns began to click.
The subtle way his front foot slid just before a lunge to keep balance.
The snap of the wrists at the end of a sweep that added unexpected speed.
How shifting his weight forward a fraction earlier made his thrusts hit harder.
He didn't master them instantly, but each tiny improvement stacked up like bricks in a wall.
When fatigue set in, he reminded himself of one thing: This isn't about being good. It's about being so good it's instinct.
The days blurred together. Morning drills, short breaks for meals, afternoon practice until his shoulders burned, and nights spent reading the spear manual by candlelight. The routine was grueling, but Hyunwoo welcomed it — it kept his mind sharp and his body moving.
By the end of the first week, he could feel it. His movements weren't perfect, but they no longer felt foreign. The spear was starting to feel less like a weapon in his hands and more like an extension of himself.
Standing in the fading light, Hyunwoo planted the spear butt into the dirt and looked toward Vale in the distance.
"Two months," he whispered again, this time with a small, confident smirk.
Week 1–2
Morning: spear drills.
Afternoon: footwork.
Evening: collapse.
Hyunwoo would swing the spear flawlessly — the tip cutting the air with perfect precision — only for his knees to wobble and his arms to feel like they were made of wet laundry.
"Damn it..." he groaned, lying flat on the dirt after a session. "My brain's a genius, but my body's an idiot."
Sometimes he'd try a flashy spin from the manual, only to trip on his own feet and land face-first. The forest squirrels started watching from the trees. He swore they were judging him.
⸻
Week 3–4
He stopped trying to do everything at once.
Morning: strength training — push-ups, squats, holding heavy logs until his arms shook.
Afternoon: spear drills with slowed movements, focusing on control.
Evening: running until his lungs burned.
By the end of week 4, he could do the same moves without his legs giving out. The squirrels didn't leave anymore — he pretended they were his "audience."
"See that? Perfect form," he told them once. One of them promptly threw an acorn at him.
⸻
Week 5–6
His body began catching up. The once-clumsy spins flowed naturally. His steps felt light, and each strike snapped forward with power. Even without aura, the impact of his thrusts could shake the dummy.
He started to experiment — chaining moves together, seeing how far his stamina could last.
By the end of week 6, he could keep his form for over an hour without breaking rhythm.
"Hah... not bad." He wiped his sweat, smirking at his reflection in a bucket of water. "Still a long way to go, though."
⸻
Week 7–8 – The Flow State
The grind became habit. He'd wake before sunrise, train until his shirt was soaked, then eat a quick meal before going again. The technique wasn't just copied anymore — it was becoming his.
He could transition between defensive and offensive stances without thinking, feint mid-swing, and recover instantly from failed moves.
At night, he'd read through the manual again, committing every detail deeper into his mind, even though he already remembered it perfectly. It wasn't about memorizing now — it was about owning it.
By the end of the two months, his strikes were fast, his stance unshakable, and his footwork sharp enough to make even a trained fighter sweat. He wasn't just a guy with perfect memory anymore.
He was a fighter in the making.
_____________
The morning sun warmed the small village of Vale as Hyunwoo made his way toward the market.
Two months of relentless training had sharpened his body and mind — the spear now felt like a natural extension of himself. His muscles no longer trembled with exhaustion after each move, and his breathing was steady even after the longest drills.
Passing familiar stalls, he noticed a crowd gathered near the notice board. Curious, he approached and saw the poster that had been there the day he arrived — but now it felt different.
Entrance to Beacon Academy —Today
The bold letters stood out like a challenge, demanding attention. Hyunwoo's eyes narrowed.
Two months. The exact amount of time he'd just spent honing himself, building the strength and skill he'd need to even survive the Academy's trials.
His jaw tightened.
"This is it," he whispered. "The next step."
A breeze fluttered the edges of the poster as he reached out and touched the paper lightly.
He wasn't the same person who had first opened his eyes in that strange wooden hut.
Whatever waited beyond those gates, he was ready.
____
It took only thirty minutes for the Bullhead to reach Beacon Academy.
From his seat, Hyunwoo had watched the school rise out of the mountains like a dream made stone and glass — towering spires, elegant arches, and walls that gleamed in the sunlight. The photos didn't do it justice. The sprawling grounds stretched wide, with manicured gardens, training fields, and the distant shimmer of the city beyond.
As the Bullhead settled onto the landing platform, Hyunwoo was the last to step out. He lingered a moment, taking slow, steady steps forward, mesmerized by the grandeur of the place.
It's been two months, he thought, disbelief mixing with a cautious pride. Two months of nothing but training, and here I am.
The cobblestone road beneath his feet was warm from the midday sun. He hadn't yet stopped to fully breathe it in when —
BOOM!
A loud explosion cracked through the air nearby.
Hyunwoo spun toward the noise and saw a thick plume of red smoke rising, dust and debris settling from the blast. His eyes narrowed as two figures emerged from the haze.
One was unmistakable — a girl with silver eyes and neck-length black hair tipped with red, moving quickly but with a hint of clumsiness. Ruby Rose.
The other was a pale-skinned girl with striking light blue eyes and long white hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. A long vertical scar ran down across her left eye — Weiss Schnee.
The pale girl's voice rang out sharply, scolding the other.
"Are you serious? That's my Dust briefcase! How could you just slip on it like that?"
Ruby's panic grew. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to—I just tripped!"
Weiss narrowed her eyes, folding her arms.
"Sorry? Do you even know what this is? Dust is the power source for all weapons and technology! You treat it like some trinket, but it controls elements—fire, ice, lightning. If this breaks, you could be putting everyone in danger."
Ruby swallowed nervously, nodding quickly as Weiss launched into a lecture about the importance of Dust, how it's carefully handled, and the chaos that can come from carelessness.
Hyunwoo watched quietly, absorbing the scene — a tense introduction that hinted at the complex world he had just entered.
Ruby's cheeks flushed, a flicker of annoyance flashing in her eyes.
"I said I'm sorry, princess."
Before Weiss could retort, another voice cut in sharply.
"Heiress, actually."
A girl stepped forward from the nearby shadows — long black hair, piercing yellow eyes, and a simple black bow perched atop her head.
Blake Belladonna gave Ruby a pointed look.
"That's Weiss Schnee. Heiress to the Schnee Dust Company."
Ruby blinked, glancing between Weiss and Blake.
Weiss folded her arms, a hint of satisfaction crossing her face.
"Finally, some recognition."
But Blake's expression darkened.
"The same company infamous for its controversial labor forces and questionable business partners."
Weiss's eyes flared with anger, her voice rising as Ruby stifled a chuckle.
"Wha— How dare— The nerve of... Ugh!"
She stepped forward, invading Blake's space, snatching a bottle from her hands. With a huff, Weiss turned on her heel and strode off, her personal attendants quickly gathering luggage and following close behind.
Ruby called after her, still apologetic,
"I promise I'll make this up to you!"
Sighing, she dropped to the ground on her back, staring up at the sky.
"I guess, Welcome to Beacon..."
Her gaze shifted as Blake walked away as well. Ruby stayed like that for a moment until a shadow fell over her.
Hyunwoo extended his hand quietly.
"Sucks for the first day?"
Hyunwoo helped Ruby to her feet, brushing some dust off her jacket.
Hyunwoo looked at her and said,
"I'm Hyunwoo Kim. What's your name?"
Ruby blinked, caught off guard for a moment. Then she smiled softly,
"Ruby. Ruby Rose."
There was a brief pause, the sounds of the busy campus filling the space between them.
"Nice to meet you, Ruby," Hyunwoo said, offering a small nod.
Ruby's cheeks tinged pink as she replied quietly,
"Nice to meet you too, Hyunwoo."
Neither of them quite knew what to say next, but somehow that was okay.
Ruby avoided eye contact for a moment, clearly a bit flustered. She rubbed the back of her neck and cleared her throat.
"So... uh... weapons, right?" she said, trying to change the subject quickly. "I mean, that explosion back there? That was Dust in action — elemental power channeled into weapons and tech. It's kind of my thing."
Hyunwoo nodded, intrigued. "Yeah? I've been training with a spear, trying to get the hang of it. What kind of weapon do you use?"
Ruby's silver eyes lit up, and a shy smile appeared. "A scythe. But it's not just any scythe — it transforms into a high-caliber sniper rifle."
Hyunwoo raised an eyebrow. "That's... pretty amazing."
She shrugged, still awkward but warming up. "I'm still figuring it out myself. I don't really know much about the other students here yet. That pale girl from the explosion? No idea who she was."
Hyunwoo glanced back toward where Weiss had gone, but didn't push. "Sounds like Beacon's full of surprises."
Ruby nodded. "Yeah. It's weird, but I think I'm gonna like it here... once I get used to it."
They stood there for a moment, the noise of the campus buzzing around them.
"So," Ruby said, breaking the silence, "what brought you here?"
Hyunwoo smiled, gripping his spear. "A long story. But it's about time I stopped running from it."
"Oh..., is that something about bad past?"
Hyunwoo shrugged
"Maybe? but it's not that bad to be a burden."
He said, as he realized new students started to dissapear.
"We should move too."