(NEPHIS POV)
I arrived at the class quickly, found a spot with little crowd around it, and waited for it to begin. While I was doing so, I noticed the boy who had placed second in the interview rankings walking toward the ring and exchanging a look with Awakened Rock.
'This boy, Arthur… he didn't come to class yesterday.'
I moved a little closer to the ring, hoping to overhear what he was discussing with the professor, but just as I reached a position where I could, the class began.
"Good morning, Sleepers. Today we will have sparrings again."
Then he gestured for the other bearer of a True Name to enter the ring.
'How did he obtain his True Name?'
Arthur stopped at one end of the ring. His expression was stoic. His blond hair, tied back, left his face completely exposed. His golden eyes carried a strange look, almost bored. His posture was straight, too straight. From the very first day, I had assumed he was the heir of some great clan. The way he moved, the way he stood before others, as if the space itself belonged to him.
'As if he were a king.'
'He is probably the one they sent to the Academy to kill me… although Caster is also here.'
'Could it be both of them?'
They did not seem to get along when they spoke, and it did not look like they knew each other. Still, that could easily be an act.
Either way, this was a good opportunity to see how he fought.
The fight began shortly after Arthur stepped onto the ring. His opponent was a Sleeper of similar height and build, but just watching him move was enough to tell that he lacked technique. His steps were tense, his guard too high.
He attacked first.
A direct kick aimed at Arthur's right calf, executed with speed. It was not a bad opening. Arthur stepped back, only as much as necessary to evade without blocking.
There was no tension in his movement.
The Sleeper activated his Aspect immediately. His body blurred and vanished from Arthur's frontal view, reappearing behind him, trying to use his speed to end the fight quickly.
'Fast… but not that fast. He's not faster than Caster.'
Arthur did not react immediately. In fact, he allowed the other to position himself behind him.
The Sleeper extended his arm, attempting to wrap it around Arthur's neck to immobilize him.
Then Arthur dropped his body abruptly. His center of gravity lowered at the last instant and, at the same time, he rotated his torso and extended his right leg backward. The strike landed cleanly against the other Sleeper's right leg, exactly where his weight was supported.
The balance broke instantly. The Sleeper tried to activate his Aspect again. I saw it clearly. But he was already off-balance.
Arthur had already turned to face him.
A direct kick to the chest.
It was not excessive. It was not overly violent. It was enough.
The Sleeper's body was sent flying out of the ring. And just like that, Arthur won the fight. The entire exchange had lasted only a few seconds.
I lowered my brows slightly and replayed every movement in my mind.
It had not been a demonstration of strength or speed. It had been reading, control, and timing.
Arthur had not fought to overpower his opponent. He had fought like someone who already knew how it would end.
'He did exactly what I would have done in his position.'
The next fight began immediately. This time, the opponent was shorter than Arthur, but there was no need for an announcement to know that he was a Legacy. His stance was firm, his guard refined, and the way he breathed before stepping into the ring revealed years of real training, not just inherited talent.
I remembered him. His Aspect was related to bodily reinforcement. It was not simple brute strength. It hardened muscles and joints, making them more resilient and explosive for short periods of time. A style designed for direct exchanges, meant to crush the opponent before they could adapt.
Arthur did not change his expression when he saw him.
The fight began.
The Legacy advanced without hesitation, launching a combination of compact, fast, heavy strikes. Punches to the torso, a hip rotation, an elbow aimed at the ribs. Arthur stepped back half a step, then another, evading by the smallest margins. He did not raise his guard. He did not block. He only moved.
'He adapted his fighting style into a more versatile one, relying on reflexes to evade instead of predicting where the attacks would come from.'
The Legacy increased the pressure. He fully activated his Aspect. His strikes gained weight, the air vibrating with every impact that failed to land. Arthur tilted his body, rotated his torso, slid a foot backward or to the side. Every attack passed within centimeters.
The other Sleepers began to notice. The tempo was set by the Legacy, but the control belonged to Arthur.
'He's letting him tire himself out.'
A straight punch to the face. Arthur tilted his head slightly. A low kick. Arthur lifted his foot just enough. A wide sweep meant to break his base. Arthur jumped just high enough to avoid it and landed in the same spot without losing balance.
His expression did not change. There was no tension.
The Legacy began breathing heavier. He activated his Aspect again, forcing it. His movements became wider, more desperate. He attempted a downward strike, loaded with all his weight, trying to finish the fight in a single blow.
That was when Arthur moved.
First movement: a short step inward, breaking the distance at the worst possible angle for the Legacy.
Second movement: a sharp strike with an open palm to the chest, not to push him back, but to cut his breathing at the exact instant.
Third movement: rotating behind the Legacy, a precise low kick to the supporting leg.
The Legacy's body lost stability before his mind could react. He dropped to his knees and, before he could recover, Arthur pushed him out of the ring with a foot to the back.
Arthur looked down at him.
His expression was flat. No explicit disdain, no triumph. Only boredom, as if he had expected more and found nothing.
'Complete humiliation.'
The Legacy did not get up immediately. Not because he was severely injured, but because he understood his place.
Arthur turned away without waiting for confirmation, as if the outcome had been obvious from the start.
I lowered my brows further.
'Two fights, two different combat styles, yet in both cases he controlled the fight from beginning to end.'
He was not someone I could afford to ignore. Arthur had climbed several levels in my mental ranking.
And he had done so without even trying.
The fights continued like that for a while.
What followed could only be described as a massacre.
One after another, the Sleepers stepped into the ring convinced they would be different. Some relied on brute strength from their Aspects, others on techniques inherited through generations. The Legacies, in particular, moved with that learned confidence that came from knowing a clan stood behind them. The rest tried whatever they could: traps, feints, unexpected attacks, anything that might break Arthur's rhythm.
Nothing worked.
Arthur did not appear faster or stronger than them. He did not dominate the ring through obvious physical superiority. And yet, every fight ended the same way: the other Sleeper on the ground, outside the ring, or unable to continue.
'It's exactly the same thing I did in the first class.'
He moved with cold, almost mechanical precision. His technique was clean, efficient, and ruthless. He wasted no motion. Every step, every turn of the torso, every slight tilt served a clear purpose. He did not react too late. He did not react too early. He reacted at the only correct moment.
It did not matter whether the opponent was poor, rich, or a Legacy. All of them fell within seconds.
Throughout the entire process, Arthur's expression barely changed.
If his expression changed at all, it was in a way that was difficult to read. There was no visible emotion, no tension, no trace of satisfaction. His face remained calm and distant, as though the outcome of each fight had already been decided long before they began.
'He's looking for something he can't find.'
Even after so many consecutive fights, his breathing remained controlled. His movements did not lose precision, and there were no visible signs of fatigue.
'And the worst part… I'm certain he still hasn't used his Aspect.'
Finally, after yet another Sleeper was defeated without ceremony, the murmur in the dojo shifted. Arthur remained at the center of the ring, still, shoulders relaxed, his gaze unfocused on some distant point.
Then it happened.
After a while, an opponent appeared who might actually be able to stand against him.
Caster.
Unlike the others, Caster showed no irritation or insecurity over the collective failure. On the contrary, he stepped into the ring with a calm smile. His posture was confident and refined.
'I let myself lose against Caster… but what will he do?'
'If he truly is the assassin they sent, why would they send someone with a True Name into his first Nightmare?'
'I don't understand.'
Arthur lifted his gaze when he noticed Caster's arrival. For the first time since the fights had begun, something shifted slightly in his expression. It was not interest. It was not respect.
It was a small upward curve at the corner of his lips.
(SUNNY POV)
During Wilderness Survival class, Professor Julius was currently teaching me ancient languages. Meanwhile, my shadow was attending the combat class.
More than once, I lost focus on what the professor was explaining because of what I was seeing through my shadow. I had already seen something similar on my first day with Nephis, the way she completely wiped the floor with the other Sleepers.
And now, someone else had appeared who could do the same. Maybe even better.
Worst of all, he also had a True Name.
Three True Name bearers in the same generation.
And of course, they had to be in mine.
'Is this [Fated]'s fault?'
'It has to be…'
Caster was walking toward the ring, a smile on his face. But I was not fooled by it. He was scared.
Not just because of the dominance Arthur had shown earlier, but because Arthur himself was smiling while watching him approach.
'He's a monster! How can someone smile after humiliating dozens of Sleepers?'
Arthur stood tall and straight, his presence impossible to ignore. A faint smile rested on his face, an aura of destruction clinging to him.
'Damnation, he's handsome too.'
'Tall, blond, golden eyes, strong… what's left? Becoming a King?'
'This is so unfair…'
With both of them in the ring, the professor gave the signal, and the fight began without warnings or unnecessary speeches. As expected, Caster moved first. His body surged forward with unnatural acceleration, his Aspect activating instantly and making him faster than any average Sleeper.
Arthur reacted immediately, but he did not attack. He stepped back once, then again, twisting his torso to avoid a strike that would have been devastating if it connected. Caster pressed forward, throwing a rapid combination, changing angles, trying to force a mistake. Arthur blocked one strike with his forearm, redirected another with a body turn, and shifted sideways once more.
At first, I thought he was just defending.
But something felt off.
Arthur was not retreating in a straight line. Every dodge placed him in a specific position, always diagonally, always adjusting his stance to stay grounded. Caster kept attacking, convinced he was in control, pushing Arthur closer and closer to the edge of the ring.
'…wait.'
Caster was faster, yes, but he was using that speed in a predictable way. Advance, attack, force retreat.
And Arthur… Arthur was allowing it.
No, more than that. He was guiding him.
Every time Caster tried to circle around, Arthur moved just enough to close off the dangerous angle, forcing him to attack from the front or from a harmless side. He gave him no space to fully exploit his speed, never allowing a clean setup or proper distance. Without realizing it, Caster was being herded into an increasingly confined area of the ring.
'He's shrinking the battlefield…'
Caster picked up the pace, clearly confident. His attacks became heavier, wider, trying to overwhelm Arthur through sheer pressure. Arthur blocked a direct strike with more force this time and, for the first time, countered with a short punch to the torso. It was not decisive, but it made Caster take half a step back.
Caster smiled.
He thought Arthur was getting tired.
I saw it clearly when he surged forward again, accelerating even more, convinced he was dominating the exchange. He did not realize the edge of the ring was now behind him.
Arthur did.
His posture changed.
Until then, it had been defensive, restrained, almost passive. Suddenly, he lowered his center of gravity slightly, stepped forward, and his movements stopped being reactive. When Caster attacked again, Arthur did not retreat. He advanced.
He blocked a strike with his left forearm. No… I thought he had blocked it, but that was not it. Caster's right arm was trapped at the forearm under Arthur's armpit, and with the distance gone, Arthur had the advantage.
In what looked like a single motion, Arthur aimed a strike beneath Caster's sternum. Seeing this, Caster raised his left arm to block, but it was a feint. At the last moment, Arthur canceled the strike and stepped even closer. Their faces were centimeters apart, and with his left leg, Arthur hooked Caster's left knee. Applying force, the knee buckled, and Caster lost his balance, falling backward.
At that moment, Arthur released Caster's arm. To prevent him from using the speed of his Aspect to recover, Arthur shifted his center of gravity again, placing his weight onto his left leg, which had already disengaged, and pressed his right foot against Caster's chest.
The scene was hard to believe. Arthur stood with his right foot planted on Caster's chest while Caster lay flat on his back, staring up at him in disbelief. I could not blame him. Watching the other Sleepers through my shadow, everyone, even Nephis and the professor, was staring in shock.
Eventually, the silence broke when Arthur lifted his foot from Caster's chest and, letting out a sigh of disappointment, turned around and returned to his side of the ring. The smile he had worn before the duel had long since vanished, replaced by a bored expression.
Arthur remained standing in the ring, breathing calmly, as if the fight had gone exactly as expected. He glanced at the professor and then at the students, his expression neutral, almost indifferent.
I could not help but feel stunned. Nephis had been absurd, a perfect machine, maximizing every movement, forcing mistakes, destroying her opponents without mercy. Arthur, on the other hand, simply made everyone else look irrelevant, as if his time was worth more than that of the other Sleepers.
'He really is going to become a King, isn't he…'
Three True Names in the same generation.
Two monsters walking around like it was nothing.
'This is definitely [Fated]'s fault.'
'Damnation!'
Eventually, breaking the silence, Arthur spoke.
"Alright. Anyone else?"
Silence returned for a few more seconds, until my shadow picked up movement. Nephis was walking toward the ring, and a smile returned to Arthur's face.
'A duel between two talented True Name bearers…'
With both of them standing in the ring, I did not need to be present to feel how thick the tension was. Every Sleeper wanted to see this fight.
But Professor Rock seemed to have other ideas.
"Arthur, I'll leave it to you. If you're not tired, the duel happens. Otherwise, we postpone it."
"No need. It was a good warm-up," Arthur replied with a faint smile.
'A warm-up?! He's insane!'
Some Sleepers stared with their mouths open. Others bit their nails. Everyone was visibly anxious.
Awakened Rock nodded.
"Very well. You're free to fight."
Both of them adopted combat stances and began circling each other inside the ring, their gazes locked.
'Why does it feel like I'm inside a movie?'
It did not take long for Nephis to move first. It was not an explosive attack, but a clean, direct entry. A straight punch with her right hand aimed at Arthur's face. Arthur reacted by twisting his torso and raising his left forearm, deflecting the strike just enough for it to pass by. In the same motion, he stepped sideways, staying out of the line of attack.
Nephis did not pursue immediately. She adjusted the distance and launched a low kick with her rear leg, targeting Arthur's thigh. He lowered his center of gravity and rotated his hips, blocking with his shin while retreating half a step. Before he could respond, Nephis was already advancing again.
She threw a short combination, a strike to the torso followed by a feint toward the face. Arthur bit on the feint for a fraction of a second, raising his guard, but corrected himself in time and redirected the real strike with his elbow. Using the closeness, he extended his hand and grabbed Nephis by the wrist, twisting it outward in an attempt to unbalance her.
Nephis rotated her body with the force and slipped free before the grip could fully lock. In the same motion, she struck with the back of her hand. Arthur blocked by crossing both forearms, the impact sounding sharp and dry.
Arthur responded offensively for the first time. He stepped forward and threw a straight punch toward the sternum. Nephis lowered her elbow to block, but the punch never came. Arthur canceled it mid-motion, shifted the angle, pivoted on his front foot, and launched a low kick toward the side of her knee.
Nephis reacted on instinct, pulling her leg back and stepping away just enough to avoid the strike, but she lost ground.
She immediately re-entered. Feigning a high attack with her left hand, she changed rhythm and delivered a short punch to Arthur's ribs when he raised his guard. Arthur absorbed the blow by twisting his torso and answered with a low sweep. Nephis avoided it with a small jump, landing already prepared for the next exchange.
They moved fast, but not chaotically. Every strike carried intent. Every block sought to create an opening. Arthur began redirecting attacks diagonally, forcing Nephis to constantly readjust her position. Nephis, in turn, kept changing tempo, alternating direct attacks with quick feints, trying to break Arthur's rhythm.
'This isn't sparring anymore…'
Nephis unleashed a rapid combination, two high strikes and one to the torso. Arthur blocked the first two and redirected the third, but the recoil pushed him dangerously close to the edge. I noticed it at the same time he did.
Arthur changed pace.
Instead of retreating, he advanced. He feinted a strike to the face, and when Nephis raised her arm to block, he twisted his body and delivered a low circular kick. Nephis blocked with her leg, but the impact forced her backward.
They were both at the edge of the ring.
Nephis moved first, trying to end the exchange before Arthur could reposition. She threw a short, precise strike toward his torso. Arthur blocked with his right forearm, but instead of stepping back, he moved forward. His left hand closed around Nephis's arm just above the wrist, and with a twist of his torso, he pulled her toward him, attempting to break her balance.
He succeeded.
Nephis's weight shifted forward for a brief moment, enough for her center of gravity to misalign. Arthur stepped in again, his shoulder nearly colliding with hers, trying to turn her and leave her facing the drop.
But Nephis reacted.
Using the only leg that still had solid support, she delivered a short, sharp kick to Arthur's hip. It was not powerful, but it was precise. Arthur's balance broke. The edge was too close.
At that moment, Arthur could have released his grip. He could have stepped back and saved himself.
He did not.
Instead, he tightened his hold and rotated his body, using both their inertia to place himself on top, falling in a controlled manner, aiming to make Nephis hit the ground first.
I saw it clearly.
So did Nephis.
For a split second, she had a choice. If she let go, she would fall on her back inside the ring and lose. If she resisted, there was only one outcome.
She used her supporting leg to push off slightly and wrapped her free arm around Arthur's shoulder, making sure he could not release her at the last moment.
They fell together.
Their bodies crossed the edge of the ring almost simultaneously and slammed into the ground outside the combat area, rolling apart after impact.
Silence.
No one spoke. No one moved.
Arthur was the first to stand, breathing calmly, without a trace of frustration on his face. Nephis rose a second later, her expression as composed as ever.
They looked at each other.
And I could swear I saw the faintest upward curve at the corner of Nephis's lips.
A draw.
I would swear neither of them used their Aspects, though I could not be sure. If that really was the case… who would win if they did? For some reason, I was certain that thought had crossed both of their minds.
Eventually, Arthur broke the silence.
"That was a good fight."
'You damn right it was.'
He raised his right hand for a handshake.
Nephis stared at him with her usual expression, her eyes moving from Arthur's face to his hand.
'???'
After a few seconds, she took his hand briefly, nodded once, and turned away.
Arthur's expression did not change, but I was sure I saw his eye twitch.
"Did a rat eat your tongue or something?"
'A rat?'
Hearing that, Nephis turned back and tilted her head slightly to the left.
"What?"
"If a rat ate your tongue or something. I talked to you, and you didn't answer," he repeated.
Nephis tilted her head to the right this time, her eyebrows furrowing.
"What?"
Now both of Arthur's eyes were twitching.
"Never mind. Forget it," he muttered, turning away.
I swear I heard him whisper, "Is she autistic?"
Nephis stood there for a few more seconds, shrugged, and walked off.
'What? I thought she was a Legacy. Why would she eat a rat?'
'That goes against everything I thought a Legacy clan stood for… interesting.'
(ARTHUR POV)
After my sparring match with Nephis, the class continued as usual. I could not help but notice a few glances now and then, but they were not uncomfortable, not at all. The other Sleepers looked at me as if I were someone who had avenged them or something like that. They looked at me with respect.
I did not understand it, and it was not something I particularly cared about. When the class ended, I headed to the cafeteria, where I ran into Cassie. She told me about her first day in Wilderness Survival. Apparently, Professor Julius had given her a plan to follow during the remaining days before the Winter Solstice, so in the end she would not need my help.
Even though seeing her doing better and making progress made me happy, the fact that she would not need my help anymore hurt a little. Still, it was understandable.
She also told me that the other Sleeper, Sunless, had been acting strange during today's class. It was as if he had not really been there at all, occasionally letting out a sigh or muttering something under his breath. With each passing day, Sunless became harder to understand…
But back to what mattered, my sparring matches today. There was only one where I had to use my Aspect, and that was against Caster. His speed was too high for me to predict his movements using only my reflexes, so I was forced to use it. In the end, he was using his Aspect as well, so why should I hold back?
That said, the most difficult sparring match was against Nephis. Now I fully understood why she had a True Name. She was a prodigy in combat. Many times during the fight I was tempted to use my Aspect, but I did not, and we ended in a draw. I was sure she had not used hers either, which led me to a question.
'Who would have won if we had used them? Or if we had been armed…?'
Midway through the fight, I considered stopping to ask the professor if we could use swords, but it was so much fun that I did not want to break the moment. I would have more chances to ask later.
'It's been a long time since a fight made me think this much afterward.'
Even now, I could not help but notice that Nephis looked at me a little differently. I could not tell what it was, but if I had to guess, I would say she was judging every move I made…
And so my days at the academy passed.
***
On the day of the Winter Solstice, I woke up like always. I meditated for a while until noon. Then, putting on a white shirt under a jacket, black pants, and white shoes, I made my way to the cafeteria.
The cafeteria was full of Sleepers, but no one was talking. Everyone seemed subdued, uncharacteristically introspective. There was no laughter, no lively conversations. Only the Legacies remained calm and composed, though even they kept to themselves.
I walked toward the table where Cassie and the other boy, Sunless, were sitting, which still surprised me. He continued to sit with us, and he always looked at me with an expression that was, at least to some extent, threatening.
'As far as I know, I didn't do anything to him.'
My conversations with Cassie followed the routine we had maintained for years. The topics were almost always the same, but they never failed to make us smile or even laugh.
Before leaving the cafeteria, Cassie wished Sunless a happy birthday, and I did the same afterward, of course. How did Cassie know it was his birthday? No idea. I did not care much either, but out of politeness I wished him a happy birthday as well. It must have been hard to celebrate a birthday on the Winter Solstice. Poor guy. He clearly had not lived an easy life…
Since there were no classes that day, I took the opportunity to visit my family for a while. We talked about how things had been going at the academy, whether I had made any friends, which I had not, and a few other things. They also told me how the past two weeks had gone for them and that Ellie had stopped bringing her companion home, which made me glad.
Later, it was time for Awakened Rock to guide us to the rooms with the sleeping pods, but before that, he took a detour to show us the Hollow. He gave us a speech about who they were and what had happened to them, ending with a warning not to die in the Dream Realm.
Eventually, all the Sleepers were guided to their personal rooms, where they would enter their pods.
***
In one of the rooms, there was a blonde, blind girl, still trying to orient herself in an unfamiliar environment. She was no longer crying, nor had she surrendered to her death. Her expression showed more determination than sorrow. That was Cassie.
In another room, the proud Legacy Caster was staring listlessly at the floor. His lips were moving, repeating one strange phrase over and over again. He was trembling.
Somewhere else, Changing Star Nephis, the last daughter of the Immortal Flame clan, was looking down at her hands. Beneath her skin, a soft white radiance was slowly growing brighter and brighter. Her face was twisted into a grimace of unbearable agony.
In another room, there was a pale boy, no longer so malnourished, with an affinity for shadows, talking to one of them. That was Sunless.
And finally, there was the room where Paragon of Purity stood. As he walked toward his pod, one could feel reality itself adjusting around him, as if moving aside not to disturb him. His golden, almost feline eyes were reflected in the glass of the pod. His pale blond hair swayed gently, even without any current of air. With one last breath, the descendant of the Djinn, the figure who claimed a divine lineage through sheer will, and the former King, closed his eyes.
[Welcome to the Dream Realm, Arthur Leywin!]