The sound of steel cutting through air echoed softly in the wide chamber.

Shhhk!

Michael's sword whistled as he drew it across the empty space, feet sliding into position. Sweat rolled down his cheek, his chest rising and falling in controlled rhythm. Each swing was measured—not wild slashes but precise arcs, as though carving invisible patterns into the room.

The Supreme Hall's training room was vast, lit by hovering mana crystals. The polished stone floor had faint scratches where blades and spells had once landed, but the enchantments kept it self-repairing. He stood in the center, his shadow stretching across the tiles, sword gleaming faintly with his aura.

Michael paused, steadying his breathing. His grip tightened, and then—

Clang!

He executed a parry motion, flowing immediately into a thrust. His movements were sharper than they had been even a week ago. Faster. Cleaner. There was no denying it: the battle with the Twin-Head Orc had burned itself into his body, and now every repetition felt like etching that survival into his bones.

"…Still sloppy," he muttered under his breath, lowering the blade. His brow furrowed.

Weapon Master. That new trait he'd drawn from the card had begun to show its weight. Every swing wasn't just practice; it was learning. Every time he shifted his stance, his mind drew parallels with styles he had only glimpsed. Mistakes revealed themselves in crystal clarity.

It was exhilarating… and terrifying. Because if he wasn't keeping up, if he wasn't sharpening himself, then next time—there might not be a "save."

He exhaled slowly. "Again."

He readjusted, then burst into motion. Slash, pivot, stab, parry. He dodged an invisible foe, ducked as though avoiding a cleaver, and struck back with a rising cut. His body flowed with almost unnatural instinct.

And then—

Ding!

A familiar blue screen shimmered before his eyes. Michael froze mid-step, nearly losing his balance. He wiped sweat from his brow and focused.

[ Hidden Side Quest: Rank 1 in VR Dungeon Test ]

[ Status: Completed ✅ ]

[ Reward: +10 Stat Points, +40,000 SP ]

A faint smile tugged at his lips. So it wasn't just the main questline, huh? Even hidden objectives are popping up now.

He tapped open his Status, the glowing text arranging neatly before him.

---

STATUS WINDOW

Name: Michael Willson

Age: 15

Class: Magic Swordsman

Traits: Mana Manipulation, Weapon Master

Rank: E

Affinities: Ice, Space

STR – 144

STA – 139

AGI – 124

ENC – 89

INT – 121

Mana: 3450 / 3450

Unallocated Stats: 10

SP: 79,720

---

He ran his thumb over his sword hilt while scanning the numbers. His AGI had grown significantly since his last allocation—speed that had saved his life against the goblins' ambush and the Orc's crushing blows. But stamina… he'd nearly collapsed after holding Ice Domain. That weakness still gnawed at him.

"Five into Stamina, four into Agility, one into INT," he decided aloud. The screen shimmered as the points adjusted, his body feeling subtly lighter, sharper. His lungs drew in air more smoothly.

STR – 144

STA – 144

AGI – 128

ENC – 89

INT – 122

Mana: 3500 / 3500

Good. That's better.

And the SP… almost eighty thousand now. Enough to push Aura Holder's evolution if he wanted, but something told him it wasn't the time. Not yet.

He sheathed his sword and collapsed onto a bench at the edge of the room, running a hand through his damp hair. For the first time since the VR test, he allowed himself to lean back, to rest.

The Twin-Head Orc's roar still echoed in his head. The crunch of its arm being severed, the weight of everyone's lives pressing onto his shoulders. He exhaled slowly, closing his eyes.

"…I won."

The words were whispered to the empty hall, but they didn't carry triumph. They carried disbelief. Relief. A flicker of pride he quickly smothered. Because he knew too well there would always be another fight.

And I have to be ready.

---

Bzzzzt.

His Academic Watch buzzed suddenly, a small glowing interface projecting above his wrist. He frowned and accepted the call.

A soft voice filtered through, cheerful yet faintly hesitant.

"Michael? It's Maria."

He blinked, sitting up straighter. "Maria?"

"Y-Yeah. I, um…" Her voice dipped, then steadied with forced brightness. "I was calling to let you know. we're having a little get-together. Nothing fancy! Just me, Aurelia, Sakura, Sam… and you. You are free today, right?"

Michael tilted his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. She sounds nervous. Strange for someone usually so confident on the battlefield.

"It's Saturday," she added quickly.

"Classes are off. And I thought… after everything, we could use a bit of fun. Relax, laugh, maybe eat something that isn't ration bars."

Her laugh was light, almost musical, but Michael caught the undercurrent. She wasn't just inviting the team—she wanted him there.

He leaned back, considering. "Alright. Where?"

"The café down in the city. Hunters' Quarter, near the eastern park. It's called The Silver Brew. You'll find it

it has mana lamps hanging outside."

"I'll be there."

A pause. He thought he heard her exhale softly, like she'd been holding her breath.

"Great! See you soon, then!"

The call ended with a cheerful chime. Michael lowered his wrist, staring at the dimmed screen.

"…A party, huh?" He shook his head, amused. He hadn't expected the usually composed Maria to take initiative like this.

But part of him was… curious. What would it feel like to sit at a table, laugh, talk not as a strategist, not as the one holding lives on his blade, but just as a boy among peers?

He rose, grabbed a towel, and slung it around his shoulders.

Guess I'll find out.

The Hunter's Quarter of Arcadia buzzed with life, even on a Saturday. Stalls spilled fragrant smoke into the streets, blacksmiths clanged metal in rhythm, and merchants shouted over one another to sell charms, gear, and trinkets.

Michael walked past it all, hood pulled slightly over his head. His boots clicked on cobblestone as he scanned the signs until his eyes landed on it.

The Silver Brew.

A cozy café tucked between a runesmith's shop and a potion seller. Wooden beams framed its front, and true to Maria's words, mana lamps hung outside, glowing a warm sapphire. A faint aroma of roasted beans drifted from within, wrapping the place in comfort before he even entered.

Michael pushed the door open.

Clink-clink.

A soft bell chimed, announcing his arrival. Inside, the café glowed warmly with mana lanterns strung along wooden walls. Shelves were lined with jars of herbs and coffee beans, their scents mingling into something rich and inviting. Couples sat in booths, hunters in light armor laughed at the bar, and a bard quietly strummed strings in the corner.

And there—near the window—Maria waved.

Her silver hair caught the lantern light, gleaming like frost under sunlight. She wasn't in uniform today; instead, she wore a simple cream blouse and a pale blue skirt, soft fabrics that contrasted with the sharpness of her battlefield presence.

Michael felt himself pause for half a second. …Different.

Maria's lips curved faintly as she noticed his hesitation. "Over here!"

He moved across the room, weaving past tables, and slid into the booth across from her.

"You're early," Maria said, a playful note in her voice.

"I don't like keeping people waiting."

She tilted her head. "Practical as always."

Michael glanced around. "The others?"

"They're on their way. I thought…" She fiddled with her glass of iced tea, her voice softening, "…we could talk for a bit before they arrived."

So that's how it is.

Michael leaned back, folding his arms. "Alright. What's on your mind?"

Maria bit her lip lightly, as though weighing her words. Her violet eyes flickered down to the table, then back up to him.

"You fought like a madman in that dungeon." Her tone was steady, but there was a faint tremor beneath it. "I thought I'd seen you serious before, but… that Orc. The way you used your domain, your sword—how you kept us together even when we were drowning."

Michael stayed quiet, letting her speak.

Maria exhaled. "I'm not someone who usually says this, but… I felt safe. With you leading. Safer than I ever thought I could in a dungeon."

Her fingers tightened slightly around the glass. "…Thank you, Michael."

The words lingered in the space between them.

Michael's throat felt oddly dry. He shifted his gaze toward the window, where sunlight streamed through glass panes, painting gold lines across the table. Safe, huh…

He finally replied, voice low. "You don't need to thank me. You fought just as hard. Without you and Aurelia covering me, that Orc would've crushed us all."

Maria gave a small, knowing smile. "You're deflecting."

Before Michael could respond, the bell at the café door chimed again.

"Sorry we're late!"

Aurelia swept in gracefully, auburn hair glinting under the lamps, a playful smile tugging at her lips. Behind her came Sakura, carrying her bow case casually, and Sam, adjusting his priest's robe like he wasn't used to wearing anything but Academy uniform.

"Looks like we're all here now," Aurelia said, sliding into the booth beside Maria. Her sharp eyes flicked between the two of them, her lips curling with quiet amusement.

Michael gave her a flat look. "You're smirking."

"I'm observant," Aurelia countered sweetly.

Maria coughed lightly, turning toward the newcomers. "I, um, thought we could all use a break. No training, no missions. Just… relax. Be normal students for once."

Sam's expression softened, almost grateful. "That… actually sounds nice."

Sakura nodded, her tone calm. "Agreed. After the dungeon, something quieter is welcome."

The waiter arrived, taking their orders—coffees, tea, pastries glazed with mana sugar, a plate of spiced rolls. Soon the table was filled with warmth and scent, chatter weaving naturally between sips and bites.

Michael found himself… relaxing. His hand wrapped around a mug of dark brew, the steam curling upward as the voices of his team drifted around him. Aurelia teasing Sam for his stiff posture. Sakura's soft chuckle when Maria pouted at Aurelia's sharp words. For once, it wasn't about ranks or enemies.

It was just… people.

Aurelia leaned her chin on her hand, her eyes glinting mischievously as she glanced at Maria. "So, Maria. You were here early, weren't you?"

Maria froze mid-sip. "…Yes. Why?"

"Just curious. Or maybe…" Aurelia's smile deepened, "…you wanted extra time with someone before the rest of us showed up?"

Maria sputtered, nearly choking on her tea. "W-What are you talking about?!"

Sam blinked in confusion. Sakura only raised an elegant brow.

Michael sighed, rubbing his temple. "…Aurelia."

"What?" she asked innocently. "I'm just asking a question."

But her gaze met Maria's, and the teasing glint said more than words ever could. Maria's cheeks flushed faintly as she looked away, muttering something under her breath.

Michael, for his part, stared into his coffee as though it held the secrets of the universe. This team is going to be the end of me.

And yet, despite the teasing, despite the awkward heat crawling up his neck… he couldn't deny the warmth spreading in his chest.

For the first time since entering the Academy, Michael realized he wasn't just surviving anymore. He was… living.

------

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.