The Sword

The pod hissed open, releasing me into the dim light of my dorm. My limbs felt heavy, and my mind was a jumble of thoughts and lingering exhaustion.

Right. I'd completely forgotten that the VR arena could mimic physical and mental fatigue from overexertion.

Staggering out, I collapsed into the nearest chair, groaning softly as I leaned back.

With a stretch of my hand, I summoned the Book of the End.

Its familiar weight settled into my palm, its dark cover radiating that strange, almost oppressive presence. I placed it on the table, careful as though it might sprout legs and bolt away at any moment.

Actually… could it? If it could talk, who was to say it couldn't run too?

I leaned forward, studying the artifact. "Can you talk to me even when I don't summon you?" I muttered.

The thought lingered. I couldn't risk summoning something as conspicuous as a divine artifact in public, not with someone like the headmaster around. But if the Book could communicate without being fully present…

"Hmm," I murmured, my fingers lightly tracing the edge of the cover. "You're sentient, aren't you?"

No response. Not that I expected one. It had only spoken in crucial moments so far during battle, when my focus was sharpest.

Artifacts like this weren't unheard of in this world. Rare, yes, but not impossible. Weapons that whispered to their wielders, twisting their minds. Crowns that inflated their bearers' egos to dangerous heights. All of them were powerful and dangerous in their own right.

But the Book of the End? It felt different.

Its whispers weren't just guidance. They were deliberate, purposeful, like it knew me better than I knew myself. That intimacy was… unsettling.

"What makes you different?" I asked, my voice soft.

Still nothing.

With a tired sigh, I pushed myself off the chair and flopped onto the bed. The day's events swirled in my mind: Crimson Reaver's arrogance, the Book's cryptic guidance, and the undeniable rush of victory.

"I'll figure you out," I mumbled, my words slurred as sleep began to pull me under. "Just… not now."

The Next Morning

I woke up groggy, my stomach twisting with hunger.

It took a moment for reality to sink in.

I'd missed dinner.

"No…" I groaned, burying my face into the pillow. My stomach growled loudly, a pitiful reminder of my failure.

"You had one job, Kai," I muttered into the fabric. "Set an alarm. One job."

Dragging myself upright, I threw a glance at the clock, then my schedule.

Weapon Training and Defense Against Corruption.

Weapon Training sounded simple enough. Defense Against Corruption, on the other hand… the thought of it sent a faint chill crawling down my spine.

"First things first," I mumbled, pulling myself together. "Survive the morning."

The ache of hunger lingered as I dressed and prepared for the day, a small part of me mourning the delicious meal I'd missed out on. But there wasn't time to dwell on it. Not when today promised its own set of challenges.

The Weapon Training Hall was exactly what I expected of Astrea Academy: grand, intimidating, and excessively well-equipped. Massive racks of weapons lined the walls—swords, spears, axes, and even exotic designs I couldn't name. Dummy targets, enchanted for durability, stood in neat rows across the polished floor.

Students milled about, some examining the weapons while others stretched or practiced basic forms. A low hum of energy filled the air, anticipation mixed with competitive tension.

The instructor strode in, and the chatter died instantly.

He was a tall, imposing man with a presence that demanded respect. His build spoke of a lifetime of combat, every muscle a testament to his skill. His left eye was covered by a jagged scar, and his right glinted with sharp focus.

"I am Instructor Arlen Gaius," he announced, his voice firm and commanding. "This class is about mastering the art of physical combat. No magic, no mana enhancements, no shortcuts. Just you, your weapon, and your instincts."

He paced slowly, his gaze sweeping over us. "In battle, magic is powerful. But when you're drained of mana, when you're disarmed, or when your enemy closes in faster than you can cast, you will only have your weapon and your will to survive. Today, you will learn what that means."

He gestured to the weapon racks. "Choose your weapon. You'll be paired with an opponent."

I approached the racks, my eyes scanning the options. There were plenty of choices, but my fingers gravitated toward a simple training wakizashi. Its weight felt familiar, even if the dulled edge screamed "safety first."

I stood across from my opponent in the sparring ring, training wakizashi in hand. The faint hum of chatter around the Weapon Training Hall fell into the background as I focused on the figure in front of me.

My opponent was a tall guy with a lean build and sharp brown eyes and hair. He carried a training spear with a relaxed confidence, the weapon spinning idly in his hands as if it were an extension of his body.

The instructor's booming voice cut through the room. "Rank 107, Ferris Alden, step forward. You're paired with… Rank 42, Kai Night."

Ferris blinked, his gaze snapping to me. For a moment, his sharp eyes softened with recognition.

"Wait a second," Ferris said, lowering his spear slightly. "You're that guy from the subway! The one who wasn't ready for the duel."

I froze, caught off guard by the sudden memory. Ferris had been standing near the front of the crowd when I'd fumbled my way onto the academy transport.

"That's me," I said awkwardly, gripping the wakizashi tighter.

Ferris let out a low whistle, looking me up and down. "Rank 42, huh? You sure weren't kidding when you said you were new. But I guess you left out the part where you were clearly prepared."

"I wasn't," I said quickly, trying to wave off his assumptions.

"Right," Ferris said, smirking as he planted his spear into the sand. "Well, congrats on the rank, I guess. Let's see if it's deserved."

The moment the instructor gave the signal, Ferris lunged.

His spear shot forward with precision, aimed directly at my midsection. On instinct, I sidestepped, the point of the spear missing me by a hair's breadth.

Ferris was fast. The spear pulled back in a smooth motion before arcing downward, forcing me to block with the wakizashi. The impact sent a jolt through my arm, but my grip held steady.

"Not bad," Ferris said, his grin widening. He twirled the spear effortlessly, stepping back into a defensive stance.

I didn't have time to respond. He was already on me again, his movements fluid and relentless.

But something was different.

As I parried and dodged, I noticed that my body moved more naturally than I expected. Every step, every block, every swing of the wakizashi felt deliberate, even instinctual.

Am I… better at this?

I ducked under a horizontal sweep, pivoting on my heel to avoid the follow-up thrust. My heart raced, but my mind remained clear, each movement flowing into the next.

"You're better than I expected," Ferris admitted, his tone light but focused. "Guess that rank wasn't just luck."

He spun the spear again, shifting his grip. His stance changed subtly, signaling something different.

"Let's see if you can handle this."

Ferris surged forward, his spear a blur of motion as it came at me in rapid, precise strikes. I parried the first two, dodged the third, and sidestepped the fourth.

Then, out of nowhere, he shifted the angle. The spear came sweeping low, aiming for my legs.

I didn't see it coming until it was almost too late.

"Jump," a voice whispered in my mind.

Without thinking, I leaped backward, the spear missing me by inches. My landing was clumsy, but I stayed upright.

The voice...

It wasn't my own thought. It was the same voice from before.

The Book.

Even without summoning it, it was speaking to me. Guiding me.

"You okay there?" Ferris asked, pausing for a moment as I hesitated.

"I'm fine," I said quickly, tightening my grip on the wakizashi.

The duel continued, but now I was more aware. The Book's whispers came sporadically, warning me of strikes I might have missed otherwise.

"Step left."

"Parry now."

"Retreat."

Each time, I obeyed, and each time, it saved me from what could have been a decisive blow.

Ferris noticed the shift. His grin faded slightly as his attacks grew more aggressive, each strike faster and harder to counter.

But I was holding my own.

The wakizashi clashed against the spear, the ringing of metal filling the air. Sweat dripped down my brow as the fight dragged on, my movements sharper and more confident than when I started.

"Time!" Instructor Gaius barked, stepping forward to separate us.

Ferris immediately lowered his spear, letting out a heavy breath. "Not bad, Rank 42. You've got some real moves. But next time, I won't hold back."

I gave a small nod, too winded to say much.

So the Book can talk to me without summoning it.

That's useful… but also dangerous.

If it could communicate without being called forth, it meant I didn't have complete control over it. For all its guidance and help, there was something unnerving about the way it reached into my thoughts.

I sheathed the training wakizashi and placed it back on the rack, the weight of the revelation lingering as I walked out of the training hall.

The Book was powerful.

But how much of that power was mine?