Morning Duel

By the time Ved reached his dorm, the night had fully settled over the academy. The air was cold, the chill of the evening seeping into the stone corridors. Most students had already returned to their rooms, their voices fading behind closed doors. A few people were still hanging around, chatting quietly, but they all kept their distance from him.

Ved took the elevator to his floor, went to his room, and used his bracelet to unlock the door.

The next morning, Ved rose before dawn. He cleaned himself up and dressed in his academy uniform. The halls were still quiet when he stepped out of his dorm, but as he walked, the academy slowly came to life.

Students emerged, some still half asleep, others energized wide awake and chatting as they made their way to breakfast.

Ved wasn't interested in eating with them.

He made his way to the open training grounds instead.

The training grounds were nearly empty when Ved arrived. The early morning mist had begun to clear, leaving the cool, crisp scent of damp earth lingering in the air. A few students were scattered around, practicing their spells or refining their weapon techniques. Some trained alone, while others engaged in light sparring.

Ved ignored them all.

He wasn't here to socialize.

He had come to train—alone.

His footsteps were silent as he walked toward an empty section of the field, his eyes scanning the area. It was a habit at this point—assessing, analyzing, ensuring there were no distractions.

He found a quiet corner. He rolled his shoulders slightly, loosening the tension in his muscles, then closed his eyes and exhaled.

Mana surged through his veins, responding instantly to his command. A familiar, controlled power.

He unsheathed his sword in one fluid motion.

The blade gleamed in the morning light as he shifted into a stance. He wasn't here to practice basic swings or footwork—those were already drilled into him. He was here for precision. Control. Refinement.

His movements were slow at first. Deliberate. Every swing, every step measured. His blade cut through the air with deadly efficiency, each motion designed to kill.

Then, he picked up the pace.

The blade moved faster, a blur of steel in the sunlight. His footwork adjusted accordingly, perfectly synchronized with each strike. He pivoted, twisted, and lunged—his body moving as if guided by instinct alone.

Faster.

Sharper.

More lethal.

He was lost in the rhythm of his training, unaware of the world around him—until an annoyingly familiar voice interrupted.

"Whoa, now. That's some cold precision you've got there."

Ved stopped mid-motion, his sword still raised in the air.

He turned his head, icy blue eyes narrowing.

Lee Anil stood a few feet away, watching him with a smirk. His tall, lean frame was relaxed, his gray eyes alight with thrill. He carried his spear lazily over his shoulder, the long weapon almost seeming like an extension of himself.

Ved's grip on his sword tightened slightly. "What do you want?"

Lee grinned. "Relax, I'm not here to waste your time. Well, maybe a little." He tapped the shaft of his spear against the ground. "I was planning to train too. Thought I'd ask if you wanted to have a little spar."

Ved turned back to his own training. "No."

Lee let out a low whistle. "Didn't even think about it, huh?" He chuckled. "Come on, Ved. We've been at the academy for just two days now, and we've got just one week before the upperclassmen return and clubs/factions kick off again. For us first-years, this is the only time we can do whatever we want before we choose our paths and end up meeting again as rivals. And when that happens, our actions will carry weight for the groups we are part of."

Ved didn't respond. He continued his training, ignoring Lee's presence entirely.

Lee, however, wasn't deterred.

"You know I've been thinking, and I just can't see you getting along with the upperclassmen when they come back." he said, twirling his spear effortlessly in one hand, "you might be cold as ice, but even ice shatters if struck the right way."

Ved's patience wore thin. He turned slightly, his eyes piercing. "If you want to spar so badly, find someone else."

Lee sighed dramatically. "And here I thought you'd be more fun."

He took a step closer, lowering his stance slightly. The air around him shifted.

Ved felt it immediately.

Wind magic.

The faint breeze around them grew stronger, swirling subtly as Lee's mana infused the air. The pressure in the training ground changed just enough for Ved to notice.

Ved stared at him, unimpressed. "You're trying to provoke me."

Lee's smirk widened. "Is it working?"

Ved let out a quick breath through his nose and then almost too fast to catch, he moved forward.

A single step.

His sword was already raised, the tip aimed directly at Lee's throat.

The shift in the air was immediate.

The moment Ved moved, Lee reacted—his spear twirling instinctively, the wind around him surging like a coiled serpent. In less than a second, the sparring match had already begun.

Ved didn't hesitate.

His blade cut forward with deadly precision, seeking a weak point. Lee's spear intercepted, the long weapon spinning with a deceptive ease. The force of the clash sent a sharp gust of wind rippling through the open training grounds.

Lee grinned. "There we go."

Ved didn't entertain the conversation. He stepped in again, sword moving like a phantom. Lee barely dodged, his spear sliding against Ved's blade in a fluid motion. His wind magic enhanced his movement,and with a boost from his wind magic, Lee slipped back, staying just out of reach.

Ved didn't allow him to dictate the flow.

He shifted his stance—fast, aggressive. Each strike was calculated, efficient. Lee, for all his confidence, was forced to keep up, his spear acting as both shield and weapon.

Then, suddenly, the ground beneath Ved's feet changed.

A burst of wind magic.

Ved sensed it just in time, shifting his weight as Lee attempted to throw him off balance. The gust kicked up a cloud of dust, obscuring vision for a split second.

Ved didn't falter.

He adjusted instantly, pivoting through the dust with precise footwork. His sword flashed through the veil of debris—aiming directly for Lee's ribs.

Lee barely managed to twist away. His smirk, however, never faded. "Not bad."

Ved didn't respond. He pressed forward.

Another clash. Sparks flew as metal met metal, their weapons colliding in rapid succession. The wind howled around them, reacting to Lee's mana. Ved remained unshaken, his sword movements as sharp as ever.

Then, without warning, Ved changed the rhythm.

He shifted from offense to defense, allowing Lee to press forward—just slightly. The moment Lee committed to an attack, Ved struck.

A single precise cut.

The tip of his sword stopped just short of Lee's throat.

The match was over.

Silence followed, only broken by the fading echoes of their clash.

Lee blinked. Then, to Ved's mild irritation, he laughed.

"Well damn, you didn't even use your affinity" Lee said, grinning despite the outcome. "That was fun."

Ved lowered his sword, stepping back. His expression remained cold. "You also just used your wind magic to just get faster, and few tricks but nothing else"

Lee rolled his shoulders, still grinning. "Maybe. But that's what makes the fight more exciting." He flicked his spear once before resting it on his shoulder. "You're way better than me in pure physical skill that's why I wanted to test myself there.""

Ved sheathed his sword. "If you're done, I have better things to do."

Lee didn't seem offended. "Fair enough. I'll let you get back to brooding or whatever it is you do."

Ved didn't respond and just headed back to his training spot.

Lee called out after him, "We should do this again sometime!"

Ved didn't reply.

But still he had learned something.

Lee Anil was not as reckless as he appeared. And that was worth remembering.