The world was a blur of sound and pain.
Alex felt rough hands lifting him, voices murmuring all around, some mocking, others indifferent. His ribs ached with every shallow breath, his arms were numb, and his legs refused to obey him.
He barely noticed when someone half-carried, half-dragged him to the infirmary, his wooden sword long forgotten on the training grounds.
The stone ceiling of the academy's infirmary swam above him. The sharp tang of medicinal herbs filled the air, mixed with the faint crackle of enchanted lanterns.
A healer, a stern elf woman in long gray robes, pressed glowing palms over his chest, knitting the bruises enough that he could breathe without gasping.
"You're lucky he didn't break your bones," she muttered, her voice carrying neither warmth nor crueltyjust tired practicality.
"Next time, don't stand in the way of someone like Darion Valefyre."
Her words stung worse than the bruises. Alex said nothing, only watched the faint glow fade from her hands as she stepped away. She had already moved on to the next patient before he even sat up.
Alone, Alex gingerly touched his ribs, wincing the pain was sharp but bearable.
He let his back rest against the cool stone wall, his mind replaying the duel again and again Darion's sneer, the laughter of the nobles, the way each blow had felt like it might shatter him.
I lost… again.
The thought cut deep for a moment, his chest tightened with shame. He could still hear the voices.
"Pathetic."
"Why is he even here?"
"Half-blood trash."
Alex squeezed his fists he wanted to shout back at them, to tell them they didn't understand what it meant to fight only to survive, to endure because giving up meant death but his throat felt heavy, as though words would only betray how weak he truly was.
And yet despite the humiliation, despite the pain something inside him refused to crumble.
The System's window still lingered faintly in his vision, its glow soft but steady.
[Quest Complete — Endure the Duel.]
Rewards: +30 EXP, +1 Vitality.
New Passive Skill: Defensive Instinct (Lv.1).
Alex stared at the words until they burned into his memory. Defensive Instinct.
A small skill, maybe insignificant compared to the fire spells his classmates wielded but it was his. Earned through his suffering, carved into him through endurance.
He remembered his father's voice deep, steady, unyielding.
"Strength isn't always striking down your enemy, Alex. Sometimes it's standing tall when the world tries to break you."
Alex closed his eyes, letting the words soothe the storm inside. He had endured and that meant he could endure again.
The door to the infirmary creaked open a shadow fell across the room, and Alex tensed instinctively.
It wasn't Darion, thankfully. Instead, a slender figure slipped inside Mira her dark hair was tied back, her emerald eyes sharp but kindb she carried a small bundle of cloth in her hands.
"You really don't know when to quit, do you?" she said softly, a teasing smile tugging at her lips.
Alex blinked in surprise.
"Mira? Why are you here?"
She shrugged, setting the bundle down beside him. Inside were a few pieces of bread and a small flask of water. "Because someone had to make sure you didn't starve after being beaten half to death."
He gave a weak laugh, though it came out more like a groan. "Thanks."
Mira sat on the edge of the cot, studying him with a mix of amusement and concern. "Most people would've surrendered after the third hit you lasted a full minute against Darion that's… impressive, in its own way."
"Impressive?" Alex snorted. "I was flailing like a cornered animal."
"Maybe," she admitted, "but a cornered animal that refuses to fall can be more dangerous than it looks you survived hat matters."
Her words struck something inside him he lowered his gaze, feeling warmth spread in his chest for the first time since arriving at the academy, someone wasn't mocking him.
Later that evening, Alex returned to the dormitory the sun had already dipped behind the horizon, and the corridors glowed faintly with magical lanterns.
His body still ached with every step, but he held himself straighter.
The common room was loud with chatter students boasted of their victories, laughing and retelling their duels as if they had already become knights.
The moment Alex stepped in, the noise shifted. Heads turned. Smirks spread.
"There he is the coward who just stood there and blocked like a wall."
"Darion nearly broke him in two."
"Half-blood trash should've stayed in the forest."
Their words were like daggers, but Alex forced himself to keep walking he ignored the sneers, the laughter.
He climbed the stairs to his small, plain room but on the landing, Darion appeared.
The noble leaned against the railing, arms crossed, a cruel smile on his face "Still walking, are you? I thought you'd be crawling after that little spar."
Alex stiffened, his fists clenching at his sides he wanted to retort, to throw Darion's arrogance back at him, but his tongue stuck.
He knew Darion wanted a reaction, wanted to see him break.
So Alex walked past him without a word.
Darion's smirk faltered for just a heartbeat then he called after him, voice dripping with venom. "Enjoy your little victories while you can, half-blood Next time, I won't stop at bruises."
Alex didn't look back the door to his room shut between them, sealing away the sneer, the whispers, the weight of ridicule.
Inside, he slumped against the wood, chest heaving not from pain but from holding himself together.
The next morning, when the bruises still ached but hadn't stopped him from showing up at roll call, one of the instructors paused beside him.
It was Master Hyras, a tall elf with stern features and a hawk-like gaze he studied Alex for a moment, then said quietly, "Not many would return after being humiliated so thoroughly.
You may lack talent, but you have endurance. Remember this, boy endurance outlasts arrogance."
Alex's breath caught the words were not praise, not exactly, but neither were they scorn. They were recognition and for Alex, that was enough.
That night, alone in his dorm, Alex sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the faint shimmer of the System.
[Status Screen — Alex]
Level: 5
EXP: 20/200
HP: 48/48
MP: 28/28
Strength: 9
Vitality: 12 (+1)
Agility: 8
Intelligence: 7
Charisma: 10
Swordsmanship: Lv. 5 (Progress: 62%)
Skill: Defensive Instinct (Lv.1).
Another notification blinked.
[Hidden Reward Unlocked — Persistence Bonus.]
Condition: Refuse to yield despite overwhelming defeat.
Reward: +1 Vitality, +1 Willpower (New Stat Unlocked).
Alex's eyes widened a new stat Willpower he touched the glowing word, and a faint explanation appeared:[Willpower determines mental resilience, resistance against despair, fear, and illusions.]
A slow smile spread across his bruised face "So even my failures… make me stronger."
He lay back on the bed, staring up at the wooden beams of the ceiling. His body was broken, his pride battered, but something within him burned quietly, stubbornly.
Bruised, but unbroken.
And with every bruise, every humiliation, he would rise again.