By the time classes ended after that spar, a talk of the sparring match had already swept through the whole Combat Division.The corridors buzzed with half-heard gossip."Did you see it? Kang Jisoo lost!""To an E-rank, no less—how?""Instructor Baek was actually watching. That's serious."Jiwoo heard the whispers as he left the hall. Students passing by gave him quick glances—some curious, some impressed, others just wary—but he paid them little mind.Minjae jogged to catch up beside him, grinning wide."Bro, you realize you just became an urban legend, right? E-rank slays S-rank, no mana used—boom! Instant myth."Jiwoo didn't even slow his pace. "It was just a spar.""Yeah, and I'm just a comedian performing to a bunch of mana-junkies," Minjae said, deadpan. "Seriously, you need to work on accepting praise.""I'll pass," Jiwoo said.They stepped into the courtyard. Afternoon light cut between the spires of the academy, glinting on the glass channels where mana flowed underfoot. For

Morning light bled through the clouds, touching the empty combat field with gold.Jiwoo's breath came steady — in, out — as he swung his wooden sword through the crisp air.Each motion was precise. No wasted movement.The echo of his strikes cut through the silence, rhythmic and controlled.He paused only long enough to wipe sweat from his brow before resetting his stance.The duel with Kang Jisoo still played in his head — the way the strikes connected, the sound of wood clashing, the flicker of something inside him that even he couldn't name.He'd been chasing that feeling ever since.From the edge of the field, Instructor Baek watched quietly, arms folded.The faintest smirk tugged at his lips."Good. He's learning how to feel the fight, not force it,"he muttered under his breath before turning away.He didn't need to correct Jiwoo anymore. The kid was starting to understand instinct — the difference between moving and knowing when to move.Later that morning, the training field w

The arena was still buzzing even after Jiwoo’s match ended.“He beat someone from the top leaderboard!”“And without using mana again—did you see that finish?”Jiwoo stepped off the stage, wooden sword still in hand. His breathing had calmed, but his pulse hadn’t. The rhythm of the fight still ran through him—each strike, each parry, every precise shift of balance.Seo Nara had been faster, sharper. He’d only won because he didn’t panic—because something inside him guided his movements before he even thought.He ignored the chatter behind him and walked down the corridor.“Bro! Bro! Over here!”Minjae’s voice echoed, cutting through the noise. He waved like he was calling a celebrity.Jiwoo sighed. “You don’t have to shout.”“Excuse me? You just made half the school question the ranking system! I should be printing shirts with your face on them!”“You’d just embarrass yourself,” Jiwoo said flatly.“Worth it,” Minjae grinned. “She was ranked twelve! Do you even get what that means?”“I

The crowd was louder than yesterday. Jiwoo could feel it in his chest — the hum of mana amplifiers, the buzz of expectation, the whisper of his name spreading through the stands. Everyone wanted to see if his last victory had been luck.Rows of students leaned forward, eyes fixed on the barrier ring that separated the arena from the audience. Real swords today. Real mana.Jiwoo adjusted his grip on the academy-issued longsword. The leather felt rough, the weapon heavier than anything from training. Across the field, his opponent waited — Shin Taekho, second-year, fire attribute, ranked seventeenth in the Combat Division. His sword was already burning faintly orange.The announcer’s voice carried across the arena.“Match Sixteen! Han Jiwoo of First Year Combat Division versus Shin Taekho of Second Year Combat Division!”Cheers followed — mixed with laughter.Taekho raised his sword, fire trailing from the tip. “You’re the E-rank who beat Seo Nara, huh?”Jiwoo nodded once.Taekho smirke

Saturday morning sunlight poured over Eclipse Academy’s outer gates. Students milled around in casual clothes, laughing, stretching, actually relaxed. The academy had officially declared the weekend a rest period before the quarterfinals.Jiwoo stood by the entrance, hands in his pockets, watching the street beyond the walls.Minjae waved from behind him. “Finally! Civilization! Real food! Fresh air!”Rina appeared next, wearing a cap and a gray hoodie. “You make it sound like you’ve been imprisoned.”“I was,” Minjae said. “In a cage of stress and Instructor Baek’s death training.”Jiwoo smirked. “You lasted a month.”“A month? It feels like it’s been a year already!”Rina rolled her eyes but smiled faintly. “Where are we even going?”“The city market,” Minjae said. “Food, arcade, maybe the riverside if we don’t get lost.”Jiwoo nodded. “Sounds fine.”Rina tilted her head. “You’re really coming along? I thought you’d spend the weekend practicing like usual.”Jiwoo looked ahead toward