Training A Fellow E Class Mortal II

Yuta froze in his steps. "Fight you?"

Ryuen glanced over his shoulder, his usual calm expression laced with a hint of amusement.

"Yes, fight me," he said, pausing to turn fully and face Yuta.

"Do you expect to survive in this world without learning how to defend yourself?"

Yuta hesitated, tightening his grip on the bottle.

Taking hits and enduring pain felt simpler, less stressful than exchanging blows—where the outcome could be defeat or victory.

But the memories of that day still haunted him.

"I can defend myself, but fighting you feels… excessive. I don't want what happened last time to—"

"—I told you that wasn't a big deal, Yuta. I'm fine, aren't I?"

"But I stabbed a pencil into your shoulder."

"That was my fault, Yuta, not yours," Ryuen said, his tone serious yet calm, showing how much he cared.

If only Ryuen had known how deeply that incident would affect Yuta, he wouldn't have let his emotions boil over that day.

It had happened on a Saturday, during a field trip. Something—or someone—had made Yuta say things he wasn't supposed to.

Or rather, whisper, since his speech impediment hadn't worsened yet.

Yuta had mentioned one of Ryuen's past victims, tand ended up triggering him.

Ryuen was beyond furious—not by Yuta, but by his own inability to think right before.

The thought of pulling out a dagger or gun to finish Yuta had crossed his mind, but he'd restrained himself.

Knowing it would end up bad, especially in public.

Looking back, it was almost laughable: losing his temper at kid who he now discovered was months younger than him.

Ryuen sighed. "You're blessed, Yuta."

Yuta blinked, confused.

"The system gave you a gift," Ryuen said, a faint smile on his lips.

"Now it's up to you to learn how to wield it. If you can't handle me, how will you handle the enemies waiting outside these walls?"

Yuta looked down, guilt painting his face, and Ryuen couldn't help but feel pity.

He softened his tone, placing a hand on Yuta's shoulder.

"This isn't about hurting you. It's about preparing you. I'll go easy on you, but you need to start somewhere."

After a moment of silence, Yuta nodded reluctantly. "Alright. But just… don't break me."

Ryuen chuckled, stepping back to give them space. "Don't worry. I'll stop before you're completely broken."

Yuta shot him a waryglance, earning a smirk from Ryuen.

"You don't actually intend to break me, right?" Yuta asked, laughing nervously.

Ryuen turned around nonchalantly. "It depends. Rage or getting overwhelmed—it's been a long time since I hit someone."

Yuta opened his mouth to respond, but Ryuen was already walking away, quickly.

"You smacked me last week!"

"Doesn't count!" Ryuen yelled back, his laughter echoing through the hall as he moved.

---

Minutes later, they stood a few feet away from a stream in the palace garden, under a bright sun that didn't seem to burn.

Despite how bright it was, the sunlight felt strangely cool.

But then again, this wasn't the kind of sun they were used to.

Ryuen had rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt to just above his elbows.

His hair hung loosely over his face, a great choice he made, to increase his senses during movement.

"Now, let's see what you've got," Ryuen said, taking a few steps back and gesturing for Yuta to make the first move.

Yuta hesitated, gripping the staff they had borrowed from one of the palace guards.

"You don't have a weapon," Yuta pointed out.

Ryuen chuckled softly as a dagger materialized in his hand, seemingly out of nowhere.

The blade was carved like a serpent's body, intricate flames carved along the surface. Both edges where sharpened.

A double sided dagger, the one thing Ryuen would love having, no matter how small and ineffective it was.

It was perfect for him.

Yuta blinked in surprise but quickly adjusted his grip on the staff, checking its weight. "How did you...."

"Focus," Ryuen interrupted. "You can ask questions later."

Yuta lunged forward, thrusting the staff toward Ryuen's chest.

Ryuen sidestepped effortlessly, his movements smooth as water. Yet, it wasn't as easy as it seemed.

He was skilled at reading his opponent's intent, but even he couldn't predict everything—especially against agile and unpredictable targets and opponents.

"Too slow," Ryuen said.

He took a step back, putting a little distance between them. Then the dagger vanished from his hands as he slipped them into his pockets.

Yuta gritted his teeth, spinning the staff before aiming for Ryuen's ribs.

The strike was faster this time, but Ryuen ducked under it effortlessly, his hands still in his pockets.

"Tsk," Ryuen scoffed, his voice calm. "Don't swing blindly."

'I'm also an E class, why is he this weak?' he asked himself, his gaze remained on Yuta's face, reading his eyes movements, while he watched his breathing.

So he would know when to stop.

Yuta adjusted his stance, sweat dripping down his face.

He darted forward again, using different strikes—high, low, mid—each one aimed at cornering Ryuen.

But Ryuen moved like the wind, dodging the attacks with ease and without breaking his rhythm.

Ryuen doubted he could truly be an E-class. If he wasn't E-class, then perhaps low D. But nothing above that

"Better," Ryuen said, stepping in close. He blocked the staff with his forearm and pressed a palm against Yuta's chest.

Yuta staggered back, gasping for air.

"Again," Ryuen ordered.

Without hesitation, Yuta charged forward, swinging the staff with everything he had.

Ryuen blocked with one arm, and the force of the impact sent a burst through the garden, shaking leaves and nearby trees.

"Now you're starting to act like you mean it," Ryuen said, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Yuta stepped back, panting heavily. He spun the staff in an arc, aiming for Ryuen's legs.

Ryuen leapt over the strike, the second his legs touched the ground, he closed the gap between them in an instant.

As he reached for the staff, the dagger reappeared in his hand.

At the same time, Ryuen pressed the dagger against Yuta's neck while catching the staff mid-swing.

"Predictable," Ryuen said, he twisted the weapon out of Yuta's grip and tossed it aside.

Yuta leaped back instinctively, yet Ryuen closed the distance again, a smirk plastered across his face, enjoying Yuta's expression.

Yuta froze. His heart hammered in his chest, sweat dripped from his forehead, and he couldn't bring himself to move.

The dagger was pressed against his neck again, and he was too terrified to protect himself

"You're hesitating," Ryuen said, pulling his fist back slightly. "That hesitation will get you killed. Again."

Yuta nodded quickly, wiping sweat from his brow. He retrieved the staff, planting his feet firmly on the ground.

This time, he darted in low, aiming for Ryuen's legs, then shifted upward, bringing the staff down toward Ryuen's shoulder.

Ryuen raised an arm, blocking the strike with ease. But Yuta didn't stop there. He spun the staff, striking at Ryuen's midsection.

Ryuen deflected the blow with his forearm, his movements was still smooth, so far he hadn't lost his touch.

"Good," He mumbled, his voice became softer. "You're starting to use your head. But you're still holding back. Stop thinking about what I'll do. Just act."

Yuta gritted his teeth, tightening his grip on the staff.

He stepped forward, finally dropping his fears . His swings became faster, his attacks more unpredictable.

For the first time, Ryuen stepped back, after barely dodging a swing.

"Finally," Ryuen said, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. "Now we're getting somewhere."