Halo held a wooden sword in his hand, his grip tightening on its edges, and simultaneously whipped the wind under Clever's watchful eyes.
The training room was huge, making the fifteen occupants seem tiny by comparison. Soft black padding lay beneath Halo's feet, designed to prevent injuries during training.
Even so, Halo remained worried about a few things.
The previous night had been consumed by his discussion with Frey, and while Frey could barely string together a few words without his envious nature and inflated ego showing through, Halo had succeeded in drawing out some valuable details.
This world was divided into three parts: Voiceless, where they currently resided; Ashen Ages, the middle part of the world; and The Unknown, a place where even the strongest feared to venture.
There was quite overwhelming information.
Also, the sinners of this world fell into six classifications: Toddler Sinners, Perverted Sinners, Beast Sinners, Demonic Sinners, Forgotten Sinners, and Absolute Sinners. Each of them fulfilled a distinctive and fixed purpose in the ecosystem.
These monsters all thirsted for blood, excluding only the Toddler Sinners, who possessed genuine child-like innocence and would only injure someone accidentally.
More concerning still, their physical forms morphed according to their feeding habits. How could training on gentle mats possibly address such unpredictable opponents?
But from the raw stare of Clever, his scarred face turning him more terrifying than the sinners, he couldn't help but continue his training. Perhaps this was the foundation of the thousands of people who inhabited this world. Who was he to oppose the chain?
Though Halo couldn't boast of intellectual superiority like his deceased parents, he made up for that in physical strength. His years of sportsmanship made the moment come to him with practiced ease.
"Learn your strengths and weaknesses. Train your focus and self-discipline… and craft a fighting style that's yours." Clever said with his disinterested tone.
"You'll spar with one another first. After I've seen your progress, you'll face Sinners."
They glanced around at each other in confusion. This felt premature, and how could swinging wooden sticks possibly help them take down the massive monsters that Clever and Frey had described? Was this a joke?
Clever shrugged his shoulders, his eyes lazily rolling across their faces. "Keep the wooden swords close. Use them to practice, even when you think you're resting."
Taking a steadying breath, Halo let his blue gaze drift across his fellow captives, lingering particularly on Seraph.
They were all coping remarkably well with their circumstances, barring a few obvious exceptions. Most seemed to be handling things without much trouble.
But not one of them appeared motivated to use their wooden weapons for personal practice. Maybe this world still felt like entertainment to them.
For Halo, however, he'd learned enough to recognize the nightmare awaiting them. Training would consume every available day.
"Alright, enough." Clever drawled, waving them off with a tired motion for them to step back.
Adhering to his commands, they divided into two equal groups and arranged themselves in opposition, seven per side, locking eyes with their counterparts across a gap wide enough for dueling.
"How about real swords? Or are you banking on us never getting good enough to stab you?" Theron teased as the crowd began to murmur.
However, Halo found himself in an uncomfortable situation. Directly across from him stood Seraphim, her gaze locked onto his.
While Halo's blue eyes blazed with intense pigmentation, Seraph's blue irises were so pale they were nearly imperceptible.
Without close examination, someone might assume she was blind or born without pupils entirely.
With her gaze boring straight into Halo's soul, he couldn't tell whether what he saw was intensity or warmth.
Did she actually remember him? Maybe she was simply anticipating the chance to crush his bones in combat? Or was this nothing more than an ordinary stare?
"You won't be needing swords for this. Hand-to-hand. I want to see what you can really do." Clever said, his eyes fixated on Theron's mocking smile.
As soon as Clever finished speaking, Seraph moved first, advancing into the combat space while keeping her gaze locked on Halo.
"Alright then… let's get this over with."
Halo swallowed nervously and approached her. He'd never heard Seraphim speak with such composure, yet he still questioned his chances of winning this duel.
Though they'd never engaged in hand-to-hand combat during their school sports, her athletic dominance was undeniable; she was simply too skilled to defeat.
He was convinced that none of their group could match her in any competition.
"Okay… the last one standing wins."
Halo and Seraph remained motionless for a moment. Both assumed their stance, eyes locked, waiting on the other to make the first move.
But Halo's thinking transcended simple 'first movements.' Seraphim was flexible enough to reach her toes from behind and, as a former tennis pro, had incredible reflexes. How could he take down this formidable opponent?
However, as his mind dwelt, he forced a rough conclusion. 'Beat her in raw strength.'
Without faltering in his stare, he started gliding slowly and steadily toward her. The hall became silent, as if everyone anticipated what would happen next just as much as Halo did.
The moment Halo's cold hand made contact with Seraph's, he acted on pure instinct, seizing her hand as her eyes widened in bewilderment.
But he barely registered her surprise.
His other hand shot to her shoulder, and in the next instant, Seraphim found herself forced down onto one knee.
A grin broke across Halo's face despite himself, his breathing heavy with exhilaration as his knuckles popped with tension.
In that moment, he fought desperately against the urge to shout in victory. At last, he had defeated Seraphim D'Angelo in an athletic competition.
However, before his mind could register anything else, he found himself staring at the ceiling above as his body fell backward, his smile fading in the process.
Then, sharp pain shot through his ankle as he collapsed to the ground.
"Wait, what?"
"This isn't a sport. You're not here to play games. Out there, your only aim is to outlast the monsters that want to tear you apart. When I say the last one standing wins, I mean it. No half measures." Clever's tone was lazier than usual.
"Seraphim wins."
Halo smiled as he stood up, watching Seraph join her team. He couldn't fathom how he'd been so blind despite maintaining the same survival-focused mindset.
Was he genuinely indifferent, or putting on an act? Seraph had definitely damaged his pride back in their original world.
"Pitiful. I almost mistook him for a man."
Halo's expression shifted from a smile to a sneer. He traced the voice to a short, dark-haired boy next to Theron, whose gritted teeth could have indicated either a grin or bloodlust. Tyson.
Halo knew little about him, but had noticed him hanging around Theron recently. Basic curse of the insecure.
The sight of him alone brought him a smile as he joined his row.
'Who is a man, really? The one who learns from his flaws, or the one who claims to have none? Perhaps both. Yet… I am neither.'
Not everyone seemed worth Halo's attention, and he doubted any of these folks were.
But as the matches went on, he noticed something. He was instinctively invested in certain duels: Theron's, Liam's, and Aeliana's.
Despite their weaknesses, they all emerged victorious, and watching them was far more enjoyable than his debacle with Seraph. Was this the beginning of a rivalry, or was he still too indifferent?
"Alright, enough warm-up. You're going after the Sinners the day after tomorrow."