The first lesson.

The morning bell rang before sunrise.

DONG.

Shinji opened his eyes.

For several seconds, he stared at the unfamiliar ceiling. Then he remembered.

The academy.

Today was his first day of classes. He sat up.

His body felt strangely light after a night's sleep, although his shoulders still carried the soreness from yesterday's entrance examination.

He looked toward the uniform hanging beside his bed.

The academy had provided several different sets of clothing.

Today, however, wasn't a day for the formal uniform.

According to his timetable:

FIRST PERIOD — MARTIAL ARTS

Shinji picked up the training clothes.

He had been told the students were required to wear a karate gi during martial arts training.

He changed quickly.

The white gi felt unfamiliar against his skin.

He tied the belt around his waist and checked himself in the mirror. He looked like a student.

But he didn't feel like one yet.

He grabbed his academy identification plate and left the room.

The academy was already awake.

Students filled the corridors.

Some rushed toward classrooms.

Others carried books beneath their arms.

Several students were already wearing their martial arts gi.

Shinji followed the signs toward the training grounds.

As he walked, he passed enormous windows overlooking the academy courtyard. The morning sunlight spilled across the stone buildings.

Magical lamps were slowly shutting themselves off as daylight took their place.

Shinji eventually reached a large set of doors.

Above them was a metal sign:

MARTIAL ARTS FACILITY He pushed the doors open.

The training grounds were enormous.

A large open field stretched across the centre.

The ground was made of packed earth surrounded by reinforced stone.

Several wooden training dummies stood along the perimeter.

Weapon racks lined the walls.

Wooden swords.

Staffs.

Spears.

Training shields.

Even padded weapons.

Beyond the field was a covered practice area with rows of benches.

Students were already gathering.

Shinji stepped inside.

He looked around.

Some students were stretching.

Others were practising basic movements. A few were talking nervously. Shinji noticed something immediately. Nobody was using magic.

There were no glowing tattoos.

No spells.

No magical weapons.

Just students.

And wooden weapons.

He found a place near the edge of the group.

Then a voice suddenly rang across the training ground.

"LINE UP!" The conversations stopped.

Students quickly formed rows.

Shinji hurried into position.

A woman walked onto the field.

She was tall.

Her black hair was tied tightly behind her head. She wore a plain white karate gi.

A black belt was tied around her waist.

She carried a wooden sword.

Her expression was completely serious. She stopped in front of the students. "My name is Tsubaki Shimizu."

Her eyes travelled across the first-year students. "I am your martial arts instructor." Nobody spoke.

Tsubaki lifted the wooden sword.

"Some of you have trained before." She looked toward several students. "I already know."

Then she looked at the rest.

"Some of you have never held a weapon." Shinji remained silent.

Tsubaki's eyes briefly passed over him.

"And some of you think your magical abilities will make martial arts unnecessary." Several students shifted.

Tsubaki smiled.

"They won't."

She placed the wooden knife against her shoulder.

"For the next year, you will do almost nothing except practise your martial arts and basic magic studies, you will then choose a subject to specialise in for two years."

"Some people pick healing, some pick martial arts, some even pick engineering, what you specialise in will be the leading factor for your future.

Several students looked confused.

One raised his hand.

Tsubaki nodded.

"Question."

"One year?"

"Yes."

"Just practicing?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Tsubaki's expression hardened.

"Because your body is stupid." The students stared.

She continued.

"Your mind can understand a technique in seconds." She tapped her temple.

"But understanding isn't the same as being able to perform it, your body needs stamina in order to cast magic for long period of time." She raised the wooden knife. "Your muscles need to learn." She swung.

THACK.

Perfect.

She returned the sword to its starting position. Then swung again.

THACK.

Again.

THACK.

Every movement was identical.

"Eventually, you should be able to perform this movement without thinking." She looked across the class.

"That is the goal."

She lowered the knife.

"One year."

She pointed toward the weapon racks.

"Every lesson."

"Every day."

"Thousands of repetitions." A student groaned.

Tsubaki looked at him.

"You don't like repetition?"

"No, Instructor."

"Excellent." She smiled.

"Then you'll learn humility quickly."

"Pick your weapons."

The students moved toward the racks.

Shinji walked slowly.

Rows of wooden swords rested inside their holders.

He picked one up.

The weight surprised him.

He had expected it to be light.

It wasn't.

It wasn't heavy enough to be difficult to carry.

But it had enough weight that he could feel every movement through his arms. He adjusted his grip.

Tsubaki walked past him.

"Don't squeeze it."

Shinji loosened his grip.

"Yes, Instructor."

She continued.

"Your hands aren't supposed to crush the handle." She demonstrated. "Firm enough to control." She flexed her fingers. "Loose enough to move." Shinji copied her.

Everyone returned to position.

Tsubaki stood at the front.

"Watch carefully."

She demonstrated the stance.

Left foot forward.

Right foot slightly behind.

Knees relaxed.

Back straight.

Shoulders loose.

Sword held correctly.

"Copy." The students attempted it.

Shinji copied her.

Tsubaki walked among them. She stopped in front of one student. "Your

feet." She adjusted them.

Another.

"Your shoulders." Another.

"Your grip."

Then she reached Shinji.

She looked at his stance.

"You're too stiff." Shinji relaxed.

"Better."

She moved his back foot slightly.

"Keep your balance here." Shinji nodded.

"Yes, Instructor."

Tsubaki walked away.

"Now."

She raised her sword. "Swing." Hundreds of students moved at once.

THACK!

"Again." THACK!

"Again." THACK!

Shinji followed.

His first swing was awkward. His second was slightly better. His third made his shoulder ache. "Again." THACK!

"Again." THACK!

"Again." THACK!

The sound filled the training grounds.

Wood striking air.

Hundreds of repetitions.

No magic.

No special abilities. No personal weapons.

Just fundamentals.

After thirty minutes, Shinji's arms were beginning to burn. After an hour, sweat ran down his face.

After ninety minutes, his palms were sore.

Tsubaki didn't stop them.

"Again." THACK!

"Again." THACK!

"Again." THACK!

Shinji's arms shook.

He wanted to stop.

But he remembered the examination. The strange silhouette.

The weapon waiting somewhere inside him. If he wanted to understand it— he needed to become stronger first. So he raised the wooden sword.

And swung.

THACK.

Again.

THACK.

Again.

THACK.

Eventually—

"Stop."

Every student lowered their weapons. Tsubaki walked to the front. "You've completed your first lesson." Some students looked relieved.

Tsubaki smiled. "Tomorrow, you'll do the same thing." The students groaned.

"The day after." More groans.

"And the day after that." She raised one finger. "One year." Shinji stared at her.

One year of this.

He looked down at the wooden sword. He hadn't learned how to fight.

He hadn't learned a technique. He hadn't learned how to defeat anyone. He had simply swung a sword.

But perhaps that was the point. Tsubaki looked toward the students.

"Dismissed."

The students began lowering their weapons.

Shinji returned his wooden sword to the rack.

He turned around.

And that's when he noticed someone staring at him. A girl stood several metres away. Her eyes weren't looking at his face. They were fixed on his hand.

On the tattoo beneath his sleeve. Her expression slowly changed. Disgust.

Then anger.

Shinji didn't know it yet.

But his first fight was only minutes away.

Chapter Nine — The First Fight

Shinji had just returned his wooden sword to the rack when he heard a voice behind him.

"You're a Half-Born." He stopped.

Slowly, he turned around.

The girl he'd noticed earlier was standing several metres away.

She was still wearing her white karate gi, her sleeves rolled slightly above her wrists. Her eyes were fixed on Shinji's hand.

His tattoo.

Shinji instinctively pulled his sleeve down.

"Yes."

Her expression hardened.

"Natural-born?" Shinji nodded.

"Yes."

She stared at him for several seconds.

Then—

"Abomination." The word was quiet.

But Shinji heard it.

His expression changed.

"What did you say?"

The girl stepped toward him.

"I said you're an abomination."

Several students nearby began looking over.

Shinji had heard people speak about Half-Borns before. He knew some people didn't trust them.

He knew some feared them.

But hearing the word directed at him made something uncomfortable twist inside his chest.

"Why?"

The girl didn't answer.

Instead, she walked toward the weapon rack.

She took a wooden sword.

Then she turned back toward him.

"Fight me."

Shinji stared at the sword.

"What?"

"Fight me."

She threw another wooden sword toward him. Shinji barely caught it.

He looked at the weapon.

Then at her.

Shinji pretended to be innocent even though his mind was troubled. "For what? It's my first day"

"I don't care."

"I've never fought anyone before." Her expression remained cold. "Then this will be your first." Shinji looked around.

The training grounds were almost empty now.

Most of the students had already left.

A few remained nearby, watching. He looked back at the girl. "What's your name?"

"Saka."

She raised her sword.

"Now fight."

Shinji gripped his sword and entered a stance.

"Insulting me by calling me an abomination because of my lineage is insulting my mother" Shinji's face turned dark and was almost menacing "I will not have it!"

Shinji stepped onto the training floor.

His heart was already beating faster.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

He raised his wooden sword. His hands were sweating.

He tried to remember Tsubaki's stance.

Left foot forward.

Right foot back.

Knees relaxed.

Shoulders loose.

He tried to position himself correctly.

But standing still while someone stared at him felt completely different from practising alone.

Saka didn't move.

She simply watched him.

Shinji swallowed.

What am I supposed to do?

He had spent the entire morning swinging at empty air.

Now there was a person standing in front of him.

A person who intended to hit him.

Shinji had never experienced this.

He had never fought anyone.

Not once.

Not even as a child.

He had no idea what his body would do when someone attacked him. Saka moved.

Shinji barely saw her.

THACK!

Her wooden sword slammed into his.

The impact shot through his arms.

His fingers nearly opened.

Shinji stumbled backward.

His eyes widened.

She's abnormally fast.

Saka attacked again.

THACK!

Shinji raised his sword.

Too late.

The blow smashed against his weapon and knocked it sideways.

Pain travelled into his shoulder.

He stepped backward.

Saka didn't stop.

Another strike.

Shinji panicked.

He lifted the sword.

THUD!

The wooden blade struck his ribs. His breath vanished.

Shinji bent forward.

His hand went to his side.

He couldn't breathe properly.

He looked up.

Saka was already moving.

She's not stopping.

Shinji raised his sword.

THACK!

He blocked.

Barely.

His arms shook from the impact.

He pushed her sword away. For a second, there was an opening. Shinji swung.

It was the first attack he'd ever made against another person.

His sword moved too slowly.

Too wide.

Saka stepped aside.

Shinji's weapon passed through empty air.

He lost his balance.

His foot slipped.

He stumbled forward.

THACK!

The wooden sword struck his shoulder.

Shinji cried out.

He spun around.

Saka was already in front of him.

Another strike.

THUD!

His thigh.

His leg buckled.

Shinji dropped to one knee.

His sword nearly slipped from his hands.

He stared at Saka.

She wasn't breathing heavily.

She wasn't nervous.

She wasn't excited.

She was calm.

Far too calm.

Shinji forced himself upright.

His breathing had become uneven.

His heart was pounding.

His hands were trembling.

He had never known that fighting could feel like this.

Every movement required thought.

Every second felt too fast.

He didn't know when to attack.

He didn't know when to defend. He didn't know how far away he needed to stand. He didn't know how to read her.

He only knew that she was beating him.

Saka stepped forward.

Shinji raised his sword.

The next strike came.

THACK!

He blocked.

Another.

THACK!

He blocked again.

His arms were beginning to hurt. Another.

THACK!

His grip loosened.

Saka's movements were precise.

There was no hesitation.

No wasted movement.

She didn't swing wildly.

Every attack went exactly where she wanted it to.

Shinji noticed something else.

Her eyes.

They weren't the eyes of someone playing around. She didn't treat the wooden sword like a toy.

She treated it like a weapon.

And Shinji suddenly understood why.

She's fought before.

He didn't know where.

He didn't know against whom.

But he could feel it.

The way she moved.

The way she watched him.

The way she never hesitated before striking. She had experience.

Real experience.

Shinji raised his sword again.

Saka attacked.

CRACK!

His weapon flew from his hands.

Shinji stared at his empty palms.

He barely had time to react.

Saka stepped forward.

THUD!

The wooden sword struck his chest.

Shinji fell backward.

His lungs struggled to draw air.

For several seconds, he couldn't move.

The ceiling above him blurred.

His chest burned.

His ribs hurt. His shoulder throbbed. His hands were trembling. He had lost.

Not narrowly.

Not after an incredible battle.

He had been completely overwhelmed.

Saka stood over him.

She lowered her sword.

"Pathetic."

Shinji tried to sit up.

His arms shook.

Saka looked down at his tattoo.

"People like you shouldn't become Cleaners." She turned.

Then walked away.

Shinji remained on the floor.

He stared at the wooden sword several feet away.

He had thought becoming strong would begin with magic.

Maybe his tattoo.

Maybe the weapon hidden somewhere inside him. Instead, his first lesson had been something much simpler. He was weak.

Very weak.

And for the first time in his life—

Shinji understood exactly how much he had to learn.