The first thrust came so fast I barely saw it. The second followed before I'd processed the first. By the third, air whistled around the blade, and snow kicked up from his pivots.
Kai flickered and delivered seven strikes in total.
It was the same rhythm I'd used with a spear. But Kai made it something else entirely.
Each thrust of his sword carried real killing weight; he swiftly slid from one move to the next, weaving them within his moves perfectly. It wasn't just faster than mine; there was a degree of lethality that I lacked.
'The sound alone signals that it could punch straight through bone.'
When he finished, the sword point hovered, then dipped as his balance caught up.
I let out a slow breath.
"That's..." I stopped myself. Saying impressive would sound like I was handing out compliments. "Do it once more. Slower."
Kai's eyes flicked to me, then he nodded and reset.
This time, I watched his feet instead of the blade.
He was stepping too narrowly. His rear foot did most of the work, and when he pivoted at that speed, his stance wanted to collapse inward. That's why the seventh thrust always wobbled slightly.
Though there was a lack of stability, Kai's interpretation of the technique was definitely fluid. Unlike me, he could shift between stances freely and even hold the strikes till after he'd repositioned, whereas I could only strike seven times from the same stance.
It wasn't a difference in our understandings, but the fundamental lack of speed and strength on my part.
As he finished the second set and held still, his chest rose steadily.
[Sevenfold Strike has increased slightly]
I frowned, not at the message but at what it meant. Watching him made the technique feel bigger, like I'd been using some watered-down version without knowing it. His adaptation had shown me a direction to go once I could increase my agility.
Kai shifted on his feet, looking uncomfortable under scrutiny as he snuck a glance at my face.
'I can't guide him to use the technique better. But I could try to change the technique to suit him instead'
Using [Insight], I had already analysed his movements and come up with a few tweaks.
I pointed at his left foot. "Wider."
He blinked. "Wider?"
"Give yourself a base that can handle your speed. Right now, you're trying to pivot on a narrow stance. That's why you wobble on the last strike."
Kai stepped out a fraction.
I pointed at his shoulders. "Stop leading with your arms. Let your shoulder drive the thrust. Your arm guides, it doesn't power."
He made a small adjustment, rolling his shoulder forward.
"Again."
Kai's eyes narrowed, focused on his strikes. But despite the improvements, the wobble still came by the seventh move.
I stepped closer, staying out of range. Hand resting on my chin. "Your power's working against you."
"Is it too much?" he said quietly.
"It's not too much. It's too much for that stance." I gestured to his feet. "Two choices. Either tone down the power in your strikes so the technique stays stable, or drop your centre every time. Lower stance gives you grip, but you'll move less freely."
Kai considered this and tried again from a deeper crouch, knees bent, weight spread.
This sequence of moves looked less impressive but more controlled. A lower stance was less likely to throw him off his own feet, but there was a unique disadvantage, as the more stable the stance, the harder to pivot from it.
When he finished, he exhaled and glanced at his blade.
"Maybe it's the weapon," he said.
"Partly. The technique works best with reach. A spear gives you space, so you don't need to reposition as hard. With a sword, you're trading range for movement. Every strike needs perfect balance because you're always close enough to get hit back."
Kai's grip on the sword tightened, then loosened.
"What if I still want to use it with a sword?"
I nodded toward the sword. "In that case, you'll have to mix it up. The moves can't all be thrusts. Use the sword for what it's good at. Weave in a slash or stab before thrusting. Stability won't be an issue, because not every strike would be full commitment."
He contemplated the suggestion for a moment and tried again.
The sequence changed shape immediately. Less spear-like. More natural to the sword. Still fast and sharp, but not fighting his own balance anymore.
Kai's breathing deepened. Sweat gathered at his temple. He looked almost relieved.
We worked like that for a while. He'd perform the technique, and I'd point out what I could till there were no more corrections to make.
At some point, I stopped noticing the cold.
The night shifted around us without ceremony. Sky lightened so gradually it felt like my eyes were adjusting rather than dawn breaking. The deep black horizon above the dorm roofs softened to lilac-blue, then a thin gold line cut through clouds as the sun rose. The sunlight stretched across the courtyard in narrow beams, making the snow shimmer to life.
Kai lowered the sword and let his arms hang. His breath fogged in the warming air.
I sat on the low stone edge near the path, legs suddenly heavy. Kai sat beside me without being asked.
Time had slipped right through my fingers, and I hadn't even noticed.
I rubbed my face. "That's morning."
Kai's mouth tugged upward into something not quite a smile or a smirk. He nodded.
My band warmed against my wrist, and I felt a buzz ripple through the metal.
Kai lifted his and tilted it to catch the light. A projection unfolded above it, clean and sharp.
-
DEMONOLOGY LECTURE
06:00
LOCATION: Blackwell Bunker, LEVEL 1
ATTENDANCE: MANDATORY
-
My stomach tightened.
"Demonology,"
I stared at the projection and sighed. "We've got an hour."
With a yawn, I leaned back into the ground and slowly lay down, watching the sun rise above me.
Kai watched the sky a moment longer, then leaned back beside me. The two of us lay in the growing warmth, breathing slowly, the night's work settling into our muscles.
After a minute, Kai spoke quietly.
"Where are you from?"
I turned slightly, my thoughts stirred.
"The South."
His eyes widened slightly. "Really?"
I shrugged and looked up at the rising light. "Long story, but yes."
"You don't seem anything like them." Kai's gaze stayed on me a moment, then shifted away.
"What about you?" I turned the question back to him.
His fingers tightened on the sword hilt, then relaxed. "Used to be from the eastern front."
"Used to be?"
He nodded. "Too young. Don't remember it."
"My father was a border guard." He stared at the snow while speaking, as if it were easier than looking at me. "At least that's what people told me.."
Kai paused.
"He was at the battle of Cistane Plateau. Only survivor among thousands. And when he returned home, he was different."
My throat tightened.
"They said he was strong. That's why he lived. But his mind gave up before his body ever did. He disappeared months before I was born. Not dead, just gone. No one ever found him."
The words sat between us.
Kai's hand slid across the sword hilt, absent and grounded. A wry smile curled up his lips.
"My mother didn't survive my birth. After that, it's a pretty common story. I toured a few orphanages in the South Side. Different cities, different beds. Didn't fit anywhere until the trials."
He glanced at me with a flicker of nostalgic melancholy, but it disappeared as soon as it showed, like he'd learned to carry his burdens his own way.
"Your turn."
I took a breath.
"I don't really know. Well, it's also a bit confusing."
Kai's brow furrowed gently, but he stayed quiet.
"I was at home with some friends. Then I let my guard down." My fingers tightened on the stone edge. "Next thing I knew, felt like the ground got pulled out from under me. Blank. Nothing. Woke up at a bus stop in Southern Ridge, stripped of my memories."
"While I was trying to figure out what happened, there was a demon attack. A shrieker somehow snuck inside, and half the town was blown to shit."
I took a brief pause, and memories of that day flickered in my eyes.
"I was injured, took quite a beating, actually. Broken ribs, bones. Got rescued by the Awakened corps and they put me in a refugee camp. After that, it all happened a bit fast. Someone was kind enough to take me in, and I pushed myself to take the Academy trial."
When I stopped, he lay back on the stone and stared up at the thinning clouds.
"That must've been rough." The words were too small, but he didn't seem to know what else to offer.
I looked at him, amused, "Rough, coming from you?"
"I never knew my family, never knew anything", he said softly, almost reluctant. "Was just a baby. Doesn't matter the same way." He swallowed. "But having a life, then seeing it snatched out of our hands, and not being able to stop it... I don't think I could handle that."
I let out a quiet breath that was almost a laugh, not because it was funny, but because it was easier than wallowing in our sorrow.
"Helps that I don't remember much either."
Kai's eyes closed briefly, then opened.
Sunlight had grown warmer. The courtyard was starting to shift as the Academy started to wake up. I could already hear distant footsteps approaching as doors opened behind us and faint voices echoed in the corridors.
Kai sat up, sword across his knees, and glanced at his band, then toward the path back to the building.
I took in a breath and stood up, and Kai did the same.
"We should get ready." I waved him goodbye and walked to the door of my building.
He slowly raised his hand, "See you in class."
-
I stood at the heavy-set doors of the demonology bunker. My band blinked, and I stepped inside.
But it wasn't exactly what I'd expected from a bunker. I carefully stepped down the staircase and leaned over the railings to look down.
'It looks like a well. They picked the most obvious name for it.'
A vast circular shaft so deep that the bottom disappeared into shadow. The walls were smooth stone, lined with the same ward markings that covered the exterior, but here they glowed with a soft, cold lilac light.
The staircase from the entrance continued downwards, but now it was a spiral that clung to the outer wall, winding down along the perimeter of the shaft.
'Quite narrow, likely built for single-file movement.'
I carefully gripped the simple railing to give myself some semblance of balance, but even that felt inadequate when I looked over the edge into the abyss below.
The staircase continued far beyond what I could see, disappearing into a darkness so complete it seemed solid. Occasionally, faint magical wisps drifted up from the depths, pale blue lights that flittered like dying embers, providing just enough illumination to suggest the shaft went much, much deeper than the eye could perceive.
Besides the staircase, I could see doors embedded in the outer wall at different levels. Simple rectangular openings that were cut into the stone as the spiralling steps stretched downwards.
Each one identical, each one marked with a number etched into the stone beside it.
I approached the door marked with a "1" and pressed my band against the smooth surface beside it. Instead of a mechanical click or slide, the door itself began to glow. The stone seemed to soften, becoming translucent.
My brows furrowed. Was I supposed to step through it? Or did I have to wait out the light? Unsure, I hesitantly put a foot forward, and it seemed to pass through the curtain of light.
Sighing, I deftly strode through it.
Inside, the lecture hall was already half full. Rows of seats stepped down toward a central lectern, laid out more like a briefing room than a lecture theatre. At a glance, I could tell that the walls inside were also layered with ward lines and scriptures.
Students were scattered across the seats in small clusters.
Kai sat forward with his elbows on his knees, eyes on the front. Sara was two rows to his left. Nico had tucked himself into a corner seat near the side wall.
I felt the door seal behind me and transform back to stone.
A few heads turned at the sound, but most quickly looked away as they realised I wasn't the professor.
I moved down the steps, scanning for an open spot that wouldn't put me in the middle of a group. I spotted the girl from the library near the centre, seated alone with the same calm focus she'd had between those shelves. A few seats away sat the boy I'd seen thrown outside the second-year facility. The bruise on his cheek had darkened, and he sat with his arms crossed.
A single empty seat sat between the row behind theirs.
I took it.
The library girl glanced at me once, briefly, then returned her gaze forward. The bruised boy gawked at me, his brows twitched, but then he seemed to decide I wasn't worth the effort, and he turned away.
The hall slowly filled. More first years trickled in, the door glowing and giving way for each new arrival, and soon, we all were settled in.
A few minutes passed.
Then the entrance glowed brighter, and all eyes instantly flicked to the back.
'Pasadin?'
Unlike last time, he wasn't resting his jacket on his shoulders. Instead, his red embroidered black uniform was clean, fitted, and all buttoned up. His presence carried that same sharp pressure I remembered from the testing grounds.
Pasadin descended through the rows and walked to the centre of the stage. He set one hand on the lectern at the right and looked over the room.
"Silence." His leaden voice echoed as a ripple of mana reverberated in the air.
The murmurs died.
Pasadin raised his hand to his forehead in a salute. "I am Major Pasadin Ankhtala, your Demonology Instructor."
His eyes swept the room with an intense glare and a fierce look that didn't suit his tender countenance. The execution of his salute seemed dreadfully sombre; he'd reigned in the attention in the room with one fell swoop.
"Welcome to your first lecture. This is the beginning of your new life. An orientation that will prepare you for the realities to come and hopefully, one that you will heed."
"Cadets. As of today, the current war situation is still ongoing. The eastern front engages hordes of demons and demonic beasts in daily battle. The surge of demonic beasts in that category continues to wear out our defences. This has resulted in more demons slipping past the borders. Directly leading to terror incidents rising."
He lifted one hand, and a faint projection shimmered above the lectern, a crude outline of the continent with heavy markings along its edges. Dark clusters pulsed near the eastern border like infections. Beyond the eastern border were blacked out territories that seemed a hundred times the size of the central continent.
His finger traced along the border, then tapped inland, where smaller marks flickered.
"That is the world you are stepping into, a world that is entirely controlled by the enemy. A world so dangerous that most who venture into it never return," he lowered his hand. The projection remained, pulsing quietly like a living wound.
"Before we discuss your role in this war, I want a simple question answered. An answer I want you to think deeply about. "
His eyes moved slowly through the crowd.
"What exactly is a demon?"
A few minutes later, one hand lifted.
It was the girl from the library.
Pasadin nodded toward her. "State your name. Then answer."
She rose smoothly without scraping her chair, voice clear.
"Mira Hilston."
The name hit like a spark.
My attention sharpened involuntarily.
Mira continued, unfazed by the room's attention. "Demons are magical beasts. Or creatures with extremely tough regenerative physical traits and the ability to perform complex magic."
Pasadin rubbed his chin, not dismissive, just thoughtful.
"That describes what demons can possess. Not what they are."
Mira held his gaze, accepting the correction without flinching.
"Decent attempt," Pasadin added, then moved on.
Another hand rose near the front.
A boy with bright blue hair cut into a bowl shape, spectacles catching the ward light when he shifted. He stood eagerly, ready to answer.
Pasadin pointed. "Name."
"Sylus Dale," the boy said, voice quick. "Demons are like magical beasts, but they can change and evolve based on their needs. They adapt."
Pasadin's mouth curved faintly, not quite a smile, but something close.
"Better. Still a description of a trait. Not the core."
Sylus blinked, then slowly sat down as confidence drained from his shoulders.
Pasadin looked over the room again.
"You're all circling it," he said. "So I'll give it to you."
"A demon is a parasite."
A few students shifted. A few frowned. The bruised boy ahead of me scoffed quietly under his breath.
"In practical terms, a biological virus. They take shapes. They adapt. They evolve through their life cycle, but they do not age the way other creatures do. They do not degrade. They do not function as a normal species."
Pasadin's brows furrowed.
"They do not procreate. They do not build. They do not sustain themselves as we understand life."
He turned slightly, letting his eyes sweep the seats.
"They latch onto what already exists and twist it to their own wicked nature."
The room was quiet, and everyone present concentrated on listening.
Pasadin rested both hands on the lectern.
"This outlook is recent. The idea of demons as parasites is only about a few centuries old. Before that, humanity treated them as a separate race of monsters, an enemy nation, a kingdom of beasts."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"That misunderstanding undoubtedly cost us uncountable lives."
Pasadin continued, voice crisp. "To defeat an enemy, you have to understand it. When you face a demon, do not humanise it. Do not attempt to reason with it, or bargain."
He paused for a brief second. His eyes flickered with memories, and he blinked while drawing in a long breath.
"Mercy and empathy are not in the nature of a demon. Without a doubt, they are but soulless husks, motivated by their one exclusive personal desire. Growth."
The idea and interpretation sounded unique. I hadn't exactly thought of demons in that way before. But it did coincide with the image I had of them to be shrewd to their core.
"Demons have three categories. While all of them can use magic. Low-rank demons are the weakest. They are not harmless. They can sow discord, create illusions or even corrode judgment. The madness and malice they can inflict can motivate a room of armed soldiers to kill each other while believing they're fighting something else."
Despondent murmurs began to circle the class. Low whispers that expressed disbelief and gloomy sighs were all but audible.
But Pasadin didn't stop for reassurance. He continued.
"When found, a low-rank demon can be easily killed with enough power, provided you erase everything it consists of. Though it cannot rapidly regenerate, it is adept at hiding away and biding its time to recover."
"Next, would be Mid-tier Demons. These creatures have evolved past their base forms. Their magic evolves with them. Their strength jumps, and their resilience becomes absurd. Lastly, their regeneration becomes their signature trait."
He lifted his hand and closed his fingers as if crushing something invisible.
"Similar to a low-ranked Demon, to kill a mid-tier demon, you must erase it. Every fibre. Every fragment. If you leave it a single anchor, it will return."
The bruised boy beside me swallowed hard. I caught it in my peripheral vision.
Pasadin's expression tightened slightly as he moved to the last category.
"Finally. High-rank demons."
The room was plunged into a chilling silence.
"These are the ones you will remember if you survive them. High-rank demons can emulate human traits. Human thinking. Human appearances."
A murmur tried to form again and died quickly.
"They are distinct, if you know what to look for. Their energy alone feels malignant and malevolent in nature. But understand this."
He leaned forward slightly, voice still calm.
"Not one high-rank demon is the same as another."
He straightened.
"Most encounters end with death. They are notoriously impossible to kill. Only some awakened are strong enough to seal these demons."
A few students exchanged glances, the word seal carrying its own weight. The idea that the best outcome other than death was containment rather than their defeat was already a difficult pill to swallow.
Pasadin's gaze cut across them.
"Since the beginning of this year, the Coalition has sealed five high-ranking demons."
That finally pulled a real reaction. A wave of whispers moved through the room, surprised and uneasy.
Then he added, almost casually, "Despite that, at least ten unknown high-rank demons have been identified beyond the eastern borders."