Chapter 14 – Rivalry
Before Dannie could reach the boarding house, three figures stepped out of the shadows and blocked her path.
Her steps slowed. "Korrin…" she muttered, gripping her staff a little tighter.
The boy leaned casually against a lamppost, arms crossed and a mocking smile plastered across his face. At his sides stood two other recruits, both smirking like dogs waiting for scraps.
"Well, well," Korrin sneered, his voice cutting through the quiet street. "Look who we have here. The guild's golden girl. You act like you're better than us just because you harmonized faster, don't you?"
His cronies quickly echoed him.
"Yeah, boss. She stole all the attention in training today."
"The instructor even praised her—while the rest of us were struggling."
Dannie exhaled slowly, steadying her nerves. So that's what this is about.
"I never asked for anyone's attention," she said, her tone calm but firm.
Korrin laughed sharply. "Oh, don't play innocent. You made us all look like fools. While we're sweating blood just to get a flicker of mana, you… you breeze through it. And then Soul Division too? You're just a beginner, yet you're already acting like you belong above us."
His words dripped with venom, each one fueled by jealousy. The two recruits chuckled darkly, stepping closer to close the gap around her.
The narrow street seemed to shrink. The warm lantern light suddenly felt distant.
Dannie's heartbeat quickened, but she refused to back down. "Guild rules forbid personal fights. If you're smart, you'll step aside."
Korrin's grin widened, cruel and arrogant. "Rules? That's the funny part. Rules only apply inside the guild. Out here, no one's watching."
Her grip on her staff tightened, her muscles tensing for the clash—
When suddenly, a voice interrupted them.
"Oi."
All of them turned.
A stout man stood nearby beside a carriage stacked high with crates and cloth bundles. His clothes were plain but neat, the kind a traveling merchant would wear. A pair of draft beasts snorted impatiently, tugging at the reins in his hands.
The man clicked his tongue, shaking his head as though scolding children. "Here in Carreon City, disputes like that aren't allowed. Fighting, killing, robbery—none of it. You kids better take that nonsense outside the walls if you're so eager to swing at each other. Tsk, tsk."
The street fell silent. Even Korrin's smirk faltered for a moment.
The merchant narrowed his eyes, unimpressed. "Don't think the guards won't show up if they hear shouting. Trust me, you don't want their attention."
Korrin clenched his jaw, irritation flashing in his eyes. His cronies exchanged nervous glances.
"Tch… whatever," he muttered, clicking his tongue. His glare shifted back to Dannie, sharp and full of promise. "Consider yourself lucky tonight."
With a sharp turn, Korrin shoved past his lackeys, disappearing down another street. The two recruits trailed after him, shooting her sour looks before vanishing into the dark.
Dannie lowered her staff slowly, her heart still pounding in her chest.
The merchant gave her a brief nod. "Don't mind them. Carreon doesn't tolerate troublemakers. You'll be fine, miss."
Then, without waiting for a reply, he clicked his reins and urged his beasts forward. The carriage rattled off into the night, leaving Dannie standing there in stunned silence.
Only when she was sure they were gone did she let out the breath she'd been holding.
"…That was too close."
⸻
As she continued down the street, the aroma of sizzling food drifted toward her. Her stomach gave a faint growl—reminding her she had skipped dinner after training.
She followed the smell and soon spotted a small food stall, lanterns swaying above it, steam rising from skewers laid across a grill. The vendor, an elderly woman with kind eyes, waved her over.
"Care for some, young miss? Freshly cooked!"
Dannie hesitated only a moment before sitting at one of the wooden stools. The first bite was hot, savory, and bursting with flavor. Her tense shoulders eased as warmth spread through her chest. Bite after bite, the fear from earlier slowly melted away.
By the time she finished, she felt steadier—her mind clearer. She thanked the woman, paid a few coins, and stepped back onto the lantern-lit street.
⸻
When she finally reached the boarding house, the lamps in the common room had already been dimmed. Lira and the others were asleep. Dannie slipped quietly into her room, setting her staff by the wall.
After taking quick bath, she lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling in silence, her thoughts circling back to the confrontation.
Damn… that's not really me.
She used to be a mischievous girl who loved pulling pranks. She and her group would laugh endlessly while playing hide and seek against pursuers, living carefree with her happy-go-lucky, dauntless personality.
She missed that old self.
Everything had changed the day her mother died. Even her mother's remains were never found in the ashes of their burned house. Since then, all she ever knew was revenge—an unrelenting desire to become stronger than anyone. Despite being a girl, she forced herself to stand against men, to become physically and mentally tougher.
And now? Someone had the nerve to warn her? To threaten her? Like what the hell?!
Her eyes narrowed as heat rose in her chest. I will never be Dannie Silve if I allow myself to be bullied.
⸻
Flashback
A burst of laughter echoed in her memory.
"Shhh! She's coming!" whispered one of her childhood friends as they crouched behind a wall.
Dannie, younger and full of mischief, bit her lip to keep from laughing. She held a rope tied to a wooden bucket propped above a doorway. The moment their unsuspecting neighbor walked through—splash! A shower of water rained down, soaking the poor man completely.
"DANNIE!" the man shouted, flailing in shock.
The children bolted, their giggles carrying through the alleyways. Dannie ran the fastest, her laughter the loudest. There was no fear then, only the thrill of being chased, the joy of being reckless and untouchable.
⸻
Her eyes blinked open, the memory fading into the darkness of her room. She turned on her side, pulling the blanket over her shoulder, the determination in her chest burning hotter than before.
Sleep did not come easily, but when it finally did, it carried the weight of resolve sharper than ever.
The next day, Dannie and the other new recruits were once again lined up in the guild's training hall.
The air was already thick with the smell of sweat and the metallic tang of mana clashing against practice crystals. The drills had been relentless since morning—running laps, heavy staff swings, push-ups, sparring forms. For someone used to wandering and hunting, Dannie found herself struggling against the rigid pace of military-like training.
Her shirt clung to her skin, damp with sweat, and her arms trembled slightly from the repetitions. She wiped her brow with the back of her sleeve, forcing herself to straighten her posture.
This is harder than my usual routine. I feel like my body is being pushed to its limit already.
As she caught her breath, a few recruits approached her with hesitant smiles.
"Hey, you were amazing yesterday with the mana orb," one said, a tall boy with messy brown hair.
Another, a petite girl gripping her wooden spear awkwardly, nodded. "Yeah… the way Instructor Mireya looked at you, it was like you did something extraordinary. I… I wish I could harmonize that fast."
Dannie blinked, surprised by the sudden warmth in their tone. "Uh… thank you," she said softly.
The girl's cheeks flushed, and she quickly looked away, clutching her spear tighter.
But not everyone shared the admiration. From the far end of the line, Dannie could feel eyes on her—cold, sharp, and burning with hostility. Korrin stood there with his arms crossed, his expression twisted into a mocking smirk. His cronies whispered to each other, snickering as if waiting for her to falter.
Dannie clenched her jaw, ignoring them.
Instructor Mireya's voice suddenly cut through the murmurs. "Enough chatter. Today's focus will be endurance and control. If you break here, you will break out there. Begin!"
The recruits scattered toward their assigned stations, the sound of wood clashing against wood and the hum of mana filling the chamber once again.
Dannie gripped her staff, her muscles screaming in protest, but her spirit refusing to yield.
The recruits scattered toward their stations, but Korrin's gaze never left Dannie. His smirk deepened as he stepped forward, spinning his wooden sword lazily in one hand.
"Instructor," he called out, his tone mock-polite. "How about a sparring round to test our progress? Friendly, of course."
Mireya's silver eyes flicked to him, unreadable. "A sparring match?"
"Yes." Korrin's gaze slid toward Dannie, sharp as a blade. "Against her."
A murmur rippled through the recruits. Some whispered in excitement, others in worry. All eyes turned to Dannie.
She straightened, gripping her staff tightly. Her chest tightened—not with fear, but with fire.
"I accept," she said firmly.
Mireya raised a brow but gave a curt nod. "Fine. But remember—sparring is to measure control, not to cause harm. Begin when ready."
The two stepped into the sparring circle.
Korrin grinned. "Don't take this personal, golden girl."
Dannie's eyes narrowed.
The moment Mireya signaled, Korrin lunged forward, his strikes fast and aggressive. The wooden blade clashed against Dannie's staff with a sharp crack, reverberating through her arms. She staggered back, catching her balance just in time to deflect the next swing.
He's strong, but reckless. Every swing is just brute force. I can use that.
She countered with a sweep of her staff, forcing him to step back. For a moment, the recruits cheered at the exchange. But as the tempo rose, so did the intensity. Their blows grew heavier, faster—more like a real fight than a spar.
Korrin's smirk twisted. "Is this all you've got?"
Dannie grit her teeth. He really wants to humiliate me. No way in hell I'll give him that satisfaction. She struck back hard, her staff colliding against his guard. The impact jolted through her arms, but she refused to yield.
The clash went on until a sharp crack echoed—Korrin's wooden sword splintered, grazing his arm, while Dannie's shoulder bore a deep bruise from his last strike. Both staggered back, panting, sweat dripping down their faces.
"Enough!" Mireya's voice thundered, silencing the hall. Her expression was icy, her presence suffocating.
"You two call this sparring?!" she barked, stepping forward. "This is not a street brawl. This is training! You are not here to feed your egos—you are here to build discipline and control!"
Her gaze cut into both of them like a blade. "Childish. Unprofessional. If either of you ever let personal grudges taint your training again, I'll personally see to it that you're barred from advancement. Do I make myself clear?"
Dannie lowered her head, biting back the fire in her chest. "Yes, Instructor."
Korrin clicked his tongue, looking away. "…Yes, Instructor."
"Good." Mireya's voice softened slightly, though her eyes were still sharp. "Now, both of you—fall back in line. You'll run twenty laps around the training yard as punishment. Together."
A ripple of laughter escaped from the recruits, quickly silenced by Mireya's glare.
Dannie's fists clenched around her staff as she walked back to her place. Damn it… she's right. I let him get under my skin. That wasn't training—it was me proving a point. And for what?
Her eyes flicked toward Korrin, who smirked faintly despite his bruised arm. Rage stirred in her chest. He wanted to drag me down, and I let him. I can't let this rivalry control me. If I do… then I'm no better than him.
Still, beneath her frustration, a flicker of determination sparked. Next time, Korrin… I'll show you the difference between childish pride and true strength.