2026-08-01 20:18:17
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The First Manifestation
The words "Soul Weapon Manifestation" hung in the air like a heavy spell.The quiet room instantly broke into a tide of restless whispers."A weapon synthesized directly from spirit energy...?""Man, that sounds absurdly badass.""I wonder what type I'll get? A blade? A bow?"Lira allowed the low buzz of excitement to linger for a brief moment before lightly raising her right hand.Tap.The classroom plummeted into instant silence.She tapped the holographic screen behind her, sending glowing light cascading across the board. A high-resolution diagram of a human circulatory system lit up, juxtaposed directly beside the spectral form of a contracted spirit."As you have been taught since the academy entrance examinations," Lira began, her voice crisp and echoing, "every living entity in this world possesses Spirit Energy."The diagram flared, highlighting the luminous pathways coursing through both figures."Humans possess Spirit Energy.""Spirits possess Spirit Energy.""Beasts posses
Soul Weapon Manifestation
The evening air bit cold against Arman’s skin the moment he stepped out of the spatial rift.Shrrrk—Behind him, the tear in space sealed seamlessly with a soft hiss, leaving only the quiet, dimly lit streets of his neighborhood.He unlocked the door to his small house, greeted by nothing but silence. After changing into loose, casual clothes, Arman collapsed onto his bed, staring blankly at the dark ceiling.The day’s events flickered through his mind like a broken reel.Jim’s face.The terror etched into his eyes.The oppressive pressure of that strange, desolate realm.And Kael Dravorn... kneeling before Ievon."...Was that really the right thing to do?" Arman whispered to the empty room. "I didn't hurt him... but..."Silence hung in the air for a few long seconds.Then, a voice echoed directly inside his mind—calm, deep, and ancient.Kid.Arman closed his eyes."...Yeah?"You’ve been agonizing over that fight ever since we stepped through the threshold."I frightened him, Ievon."
A Lesson He Couldn’t Forget
Arman looked straight at Jim, his expression calm and steady. There was no arrogance in his eyes, no excitement either—only quiet certainty.“We will see,” Arman said evenly, his voice carrying clearly through the training ground. “Who trains whom.”For a brief moment, Jim didn’t react. His body remained still, as if he was measuring Arman. Then his expression changed. His eyes darkened, his jaw tightened, and something ugly surfaced inside him.Anger came first, sharp and immediate.But beneath that anger lived something deeper—hatred.Not the loud, reckless kind, but the kind that sat silently, waiting for the right moment to strike.Kenny stepped closer to Arman and spoke in a low voice, careful that Jim wouldn’t hear him clearly. “Arman, you really don’t have to fight him. You can refuse. No one will think less of you.”Instructor Lira nodded in agreement. “Yes, Arman. If you don’t want to accept this match, you can—”“No.”Arman cut her off before she could finish the sentence.T
Let’s See Who Trains Whom
The training ground was loud with footsteps and breath.Dust rose constantly as students moved, sparred, fell, and got back up again. Shouts echoed across the field, mixed with the dull thud of fists hitting arms, elbows crashing into guards, and shoes scraping against sand.Some rookies were already panting.Some had bruises forming.Some were still trying to understand how their bodies moved.Arman stood still for a moment.His eyes were locked on Kenny.Kenny rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck, and grinned like he was enjoying himself a little too much.“Alright, rival,” he said. “Let’s see what you learned.”Arman didn’t answer.He shifted his stance slightly. Left foot forward. Weight light. Hands relaxed.Then—He suddenly sprinted forward.Fast.Direct.No wasted movement.Kenny reacted instantly. His arms came up, elbows tight, reading Arman’s shoulder movement.Arman’s right fist shot forward.Kenny moved to block——but the punch stopped halfway.A fake.Before Kenny’s br
A Warning and a Lesson
Kenny walked up to Arman the moment Jim left the classroom. His grin was wide, but his eyes showed a little worry. “Yo bro,” Kenny said, slapping Arman’s shoulder. “That… that was something else.” Arman blinked. “Hm? Why? Is everyone acting like it’s a big deal?” Kenny stared at him like Arman had asked why the sky is blue. “YES, it’s a big deal! That was Jim you stopped! He isn’t just some loudmouth. That guy is one of the strongest in the second years.” Arman raised an eyebrow. “And?” Kenny pointed at Ron, who was sitting quietly, holding his bag tight to his chest. “You know that boy? Ron? Jim’s parents work for Ron’s family. Jim is the servant’s kid. Jim despises that someone weaker than him has power over him in any form. So he bullies Ron to feel big.” Arman looked at Ron again. The small boy was wiping his glasses, trying to hide the redness in his eyes. “I couldn’t care less,” Arman said calmly. “Wrong is wrong.” Kenny nodded. “Well said, bro. But listen— yo
The First Conflict
Instructor Lira left the classroom, and as soon as the door closed, everyone let out a breath they had been holding.Kenny leaned back in his chair and stretched. “Damn… she’s intense. I kinda like it.”Arman smirked. “You would.”They were talking quietly when the classroom door suddenly slammed open so hard that half the class jumped.Three boys walked in.The one in the middle stood out instantly — green spiky hair, sharp eyes, a smirk that screamed trouble.The other two flanked him like bodyguards. They looked like twins, almost identical, except one had black hair and the other had brown. Both were tall, muscular, and walked with heavy steps.The class went silent.Nobody said anything.The green-haired boy scanned the room slowly… like he owned it.Then he spotted someone at the back.A small boy.Thin arms. Small frame. Weak posture. Big round glasses. His uniform looked slightly oversized.He sat alone near the window, holding a notebook to his chest like a shield.Arman look
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