The journey was much smoother than I had anticipated. Nothing particularly interesting happened, and I was able to arrive safely at the NOVA facilities. During the journey, I didn’t exchange a word with anyone, which only marked the silence that surrounded . Upon arrival, I went directly to the office of teacher Veronica Glass to report. She, as always, greeted with a firm look, but the aura around her was very calm.
"I see you’re back. How was your trip?" Her voice, always direct, but without losing its softness, resonated throughout the office.
"Quite pleasant, actually. Nothing particularly exciting happened along the way," I replied, squeezing the backpack I was carrying and running a hand through my hair, still sowhat disheveled. I felt relaxed, but I knew that the weight of what was to co was already beginning to settle in my mind.
Veronica just nodded slowly, evaluating my behavior and the content of my words. His eyes, so deep that they didn’t let any detail escape.
— Well, I’m glad to hear it—he said leaning back in his chair, then he took a step forward, crossing his hands on the desk, and advised: "Don’t relax too much, tranquility is the preamble to the martyrdom that is to co" he said making a face of happiness.
His small, malevolent smile was sowhat tender. On the other hand, the aning hidden in those words made my skin crawl. What kind of crazy ideas will occur to him for the next classes.
— Now, rest. Classes will start tomorrow first thing in the morning, rember in three weeks it will be dungeon exploration and it will be worth fifty percent of the academic credits. I have hopes for you, don’t disappoint .
His words were simple, but loaded with a ssage that I couldn’t ignore. He was practically telling that if soone failed, they would most likely be expelled.
— It’s okay, teacher. "Thank you for the warning," I replied, though I couldn’t help but feel a mix of emotions. I wanted to tell her what would happen in the test, but I was afraid that by doing so I would alert the demons and cause greater losses. In the end, it was sothing I had to resolve on my own.
Veronica looked at , as if sensing sothing deep inside . She leaned forward slightly and said:
"Rember, you are not alone and keep in mind that what you learn here is not just the competition. Sotis, the hardest choices have nothing to do with weapons."
I felt a slight pang in my chest at her words, as if I had touched a nerve.
"I will keep that in mind, teacher," I said, bowing slightly. Then, I turned towards the door.
I wanted to go straight to my room and think more about it but I couldn’t do it. The pressure on my shoulders was much more complex. Without hesitation, I went straight to the training room, to practice so shooting.
The air there slled of aged wood and iron, and the sound of echoing against empty walls resonated loudly.
On a small shelf were all kinds of weapons from swords, bows, and even modern weapons.
I picked up a pistol, adjusting the grip deftly, and focused on the targets that began to appear in front of , erging from the shadows like ghostly figures. First, I fired at ten ters, feeling the familiarity of the weapon. Then, I moved to twenty ters, and the accuracy of my shots began to improve. The last challenge was at fifty ters, a limit my current skill could handle, but just barely. Each shot had to be more accurate than the last.
With my hands slightly numb from all the shooting, I put the pistol aside and began to walk around the field at a gentle trot, feeling my muscles stretch and warm with each step. The wind caressed my face as I kept moving, I knew that endurance was also vital in what was coming, I couldn’t be lazy in training
Then, I approached an old steel sword, which rested in one of the corners of the room. The swing was unfamiliar to , but I quickly beca familiar with it, the sound of the wind as the sword fell beca clearer and more precise, repeating the movent over and over again, until my shoulders began to ache from the effort. Still, the sensation of the steel cutting through the air was comforting.
I practiced so simple cuts, the kind I had read about in martial arts novels, first horizontal and then diagonal. Each movent improved as the minutes passed, it felt more fluid and slowly beca more natural.
The reason I decided to take up a sword wasn’t just due to the fact of the weapon I had stored in my inventory, although that certainly helped. What truly drove was the knowledge that, although firearms were effective for now, they wouldn’t always be enough. I knew that in this world, the scale of power would increase so absurdly that it was impossible for a simple bullet to achieve an effective impact. In fact, I was already seriously thinking about it shortly after arriving here, it’s just that I hadn’t taken the ti to get used to it.
But now. As I trained with the sword, every stroke I took, every controlled breath, I felt how I was slowly adapting. It wasn’t just the increase in my physical strength, but sothing beyond that that I felt controlled . The contact of the blade with the air, the balance of my body as I moved it, everything had an inexplicable feeling of familiarity, as if I had been doing it all my life.
At so point, I understood that when the ti ca, if circumstances forced to fight face to face, and I couldn’t shoot, at least I wouldn’t feel so helpless.
The training reached the point of intensifying, each movent carried with it a power, a fluidity and disconcerting precision. My breathing synchronized with the blows, and my body, faster and faster, seed to move on its own, as if sothing external guided it. The tal of the sword vibrated skillfully in the air, cutting the atmosphere with the softness of a whisper, and my legs glided effortlessly, following a rhythm that was no longer entirely mine. I was imrsed in a kind of trance, where every gesture seed unpredictable, every turn of the sword, natural.
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