CHAPTER 5 ‒ Determined

As the mood settled, everyone sank into their beds. The exhaustion of the day suddenly overwhelmed us.

I, too, lay in bed, staring into the void for a moment until my eyes began to close.

Maybe I would wake up tomorrow and realize this had all been just a dream?
Maybe I would feel that sensation from before again? The silver bracelet on my wrist felt cold.

As I closed my eyes, I fell.

No ground. No walls. Only light. Endless white, so pure it almost burned. I wanted to move, but my body felt heavy ‒ like something was holding me back.

Then ‒ a sound. A faint clinking.

"Where are you going?"

The voice came from everywhere. Warm, familiar ‒ yet foreign. I turned around. Nothing.

"I like how you wear the bracelet."

My gaze fell to my wrist. The silver bracelet shimmered as if it were breathing. An unnatural cold crept into my fingers.

"The bracelet... is it yours?"

My voice was unsteady. No answer.

Then, at the edge of my vision ‒ a silhouette. White like the room, blurred like a memory.

I took a step toward it. My foot touched nothing, yet an echo rang out. Closer. Closer. Its contours grew sharper.

"You are the most precious thing to me."

The ground tilted. My stomach clenched.

I fell ‒ no, I woke up. My arm was still outstretched, the voice still lingering in my head.

I gasped, rubbing my forehead. My body was drenched in sweat.

It was a dream. A strange, yet beautiful dream ‒ and yet, I felt... different.

After a few seconds, reality set in. I was in the dormitory. Nineteen other beds. Some were still asleep, others whispered quietly to each other.

Beside me, I noticed a figure watching me.

"Bad dream?" Kyodai's voice was rough. The dark circles under his eyes spoke for themselves.

"I'm not sure..."

I tried to sit up ‒ expecting the pain from yesterday. But... nothing.

My gaze wandered down my body. The wounds from yesterday ‒ the bruises, the scrapes ‒ they were gone. My body felt light, too light.

"No sleep?" I asked, trying to distract myself.

"Not a bit. Every minute, I thought someone would drag me back into the cellar..."

The events of yesterday hit me hard. My mind drifted back to the horrors of the previous day ‒ and the fact that I now had a name.

I looked down at my wrist. The silver bracelet still rested there. I still didn’t know why. But now, it felt... familiar.

Suddenly, a metallic sound echoed from the door. With a harsh clank, it was unlocked, and a soldier stepped into the dormitory.

"Everyone up! Your morning training begins!"

The soldier stepped into the room, his gaze stern. No one moved at first. For a moment, silence hung in the air.

Then, one by one, we stood up.

I saw the soldier’s expression shift. First confusion. Then irritation. He had expected resistance ‒ screams, attempts to flee. But not this.

"Line up and leave the room!"

We obeyed. Outside, four more soldiers stood ready, tense. Prepared to strike us down. But no resistance came.

On the training ground, he was already waiting.

Kang.

"There you are, my heroes!" His mockery was unmistakable, and his grin was plastered across his face.

"I hope you all got some good rest... well, not really. I don’t give a shit. Even if you’re tired, you’ll fight."

He walked over to a table at the side and picked up a morning star.

"You there!" He pointed at the red-haired woman. "You're with me. The rest of you, pair up again."

He lifted the weapon, running his fingers over the metal.

"...And if I have to step in again, there’ll be hell to pay."

Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked toward the far end of the training ground.

Akai obeyed and followed him. As she passed me, our eyes met, and she gave me a small, faint smile.

It gave me strength.

Kyodai and I paired up again and began our training. We kept our promise and charged at each other ‒ blows, kicks, a relentless duel. Every hit hurt, but we pushed through. When one of us fell, the other helped him up, and we continued.

The others watched us for a brief moment before they, too, got serious. None of them wanted to die, and to survive, they had to fight for their lives.

Kang and Akai stood face to face. To Akai’s surprise, Kang spent a long moment watching the rest of us, his expression shifting to something unexpected.

"What’s gotten into you lot?" He stroked his long beard. "Were you swapped out overnight?"

Akai ignored the question and tied her hair back with a strip of fabric she had torn from her shirt.

"No idea why that should concern you. Shall we begin?"

Akai stood facing Kang. She could feel her heartbeat in her fingertips. Her grip on the sword was firm, but her legs trembled.

"Don't get cocky."

Kang’s voice was deep, almost bored.

Akai sprinted forward. But she didn’t even get the chance to strike ‒ A sharp whistle. A shadow.

Then, an impact like a sledgehammer crashing into her ribs.

Something brutal tore through her body. Her stomach clenched, her legs buckled. The morning star had struck her from the side, and she felt the air being ripped from her lungs. She stumbled back, gasping ‒ no chance. He was already there again.

The next strike came from above. She raised her sword to block it.

A mistake.

Kang’s weapon slammed against her blade, and the impact sent a numbing shock through her arms. The sheer weight forced her down to her knees. She heard the sickening crunch of bones in her arms.

Shit, this was too much.

"Where's your reinforcement magic?"

His mockery burned worse than the pain.

She saw him through the haze in her vision, ready for the next attack. His weapon lifted ‒ but then…

He let it drop.

A dull clonk as the morning star hit the ground.

Akai blinked. What the hell?

Before she could even react, he was already there.

A fist came hurtling toward her.

Not a heavy, calculated strike ‒ just raw, brutal force.

His punch smashed straight into her face. Pain shot through her skull, her vision blurred. She stumbled back, spat blood ‒ And then came the kick.

His boot slammed into her chest, and she flew backward, skidding across the dusty ground.

Everything hurt. Everything.

She felt the ground beneath her fingers. She wanted to stand. Had to stand. But her muscles felt foreign, as if they had been replaced. Her arms trembled. Her legs refused to move.

"Get up."

The voice in her head wasn’t Kang’s.

"Get. Up."

A metallic pounding rang in her ears.

Dong.

It sounded like metal striking metal.
She gasped.

Dong.

Heat crawled up her spine. Her body burned ‒ not like wounds, but from within. She sucked in a sharp breath. Her veins pulsed.

Dong.

Something burst inside her, and a tremor shook the training ground.

Her flesh tightened, grew firmer. Black lines spread across her skin like cracks in stone. Her heart pounded. The pain vanished. Instead… power.

She snapped her eyes open. Kang was already coming for her, ready to end the fight.

He swung again. She did nothing.

Then ‒ her body moved on its own.

Without thinking, she tensed her legs and jumped ‒ Not two meters. Not three.
Five.

She was above him. Her movements felt light, perfectly coordinated. He snapped his head up ‒ but she was already gone. Right behind him.

A kick to his back.

His massive body lurched forward. A man like Kang didn’t fall easily, but that didn’t matter. She could feel the heat surging through her body, her muscles burning with raw power. It wasn’t enough. She could do more. Much more.

After the tremor from before, everyone was watching. They didn’t want to miss the spectacle.You could feel their fascination ‒ their determination to awaken their own magic.

Kyodai and I refused to be left behind.

Kyodai dodged to the right ‒ too slow.

My sword shot forward, slicing the skin on his neck. Not deep, but strong enough. Blood welled up.

Kyodai gasped, his grip on his sword unsteady.

I felt good. My body moved without pain, without hesitation.

I turned with the motion, using the momentum to strike again ‒ same spot.

But then…

KRRRKKK.

My sword bounced off.

Not against flesh. Not against bone. But against something hard. Cold.

Kyodai’s breathing grew heavy. He dropped to his knees, his hands clawing at his neck. His face twisted ‒ somewhere between pain and confusion.

Then ‒ a loud crack.

He screamed. Short, rough, broken.

Dark plates formed on his skin, as if they had always been there, hidden beneath the surface. They spread, growing over the wound like a second layer of flesh.

He looked up. His pupils were blown wide.

His gaze met mine ‒ and in his eyes, I saw something new.

Something that hadn’t been there before.

Something that smelled of battle.

Something that had awakened.