Virtual Reality

Eden

The morning air was crisp, the academy grounds bathed in a soft golden light as students filtered toward their first class of the day.

Eden walked with his usual measured pace, his expression unreadable, his posture relaxed. But beneath the surface—something was wrong.

His Aether was gone.

Not permanently—but drained to the point where even if he wanted to use it, he couldn't.

Ever since last night, the sword had continued pulling from him, siphoning away whatever remained in his reserves. He had spent hours trying to suppress it, to block the flow—but nothing worked. It was as if the blade had latched onto his very core, refusing to let go.

The sensation wasn't painful, but it left him feeling… hollow.

Weak.

For the first time in months, Eden felt the absence of Aether in his body, and it was unsettling. Like a phantom limb—something that should be there but wasn't.

A part of him regretted accepting the weapon.

He had barely scratched the surface of his Aether control, and now it was as if he had taken five steps backward. His greatest advantage—the one thing that set him apart—was now locked away. And for what? A sword that nearly killed him the moment he infused it with Aether?

His fingers brushed against the hilt at his side. The scabbard remained shut, concealing the blade within. Whatever this thing was, it wasn't normal.

And he still didn't know if it was a blessing or a curse.

"Hey, blindfold, you look even more lifeless than usual," a voice interrupted.

Eden exhaled slowly. "Good morning to you too, Idris."

Nyxen chuckled from beside him. "I think what he means is—you look kinda dead. Rough night?"

Eden tilted his head slightly. "If I said yes, would you believe me?"

Nyxen hummed, pretending to think. "Depends. Did you spend the night training like a lunatic again?"

Eden remained silent.

Seraphine, walking a few steps ahead, turned her head slightly. "So that's a yes."

Ceris, who had been quiet the whole time, finally spoke. "You shouldn't push yourself too hard."

Eden smirked faintly. "I'll keep that in mind."

Idris rolled his eyes. "Why are we even wasting breath on him? If he wants to break himself, let him."

Nyxen elbowed him in the ribs. "You really wake up choosing hostility every morning, huh?"

Idris swatted his arm away. "And you wake up choosing to be an idiot."

Their usual banter continued, and Eden let it fade into the background. He focused on his own breathing, trying to ignore the emptiness where his Aether should have been.

He could manage without it.

He had to.

Class 1 Training Hall

Raella stood at the front of the room, her gaze sweeping over the assembled students.

"Before we begin today's training, I want to see something first." Her golden eyes landed directly on Eden. "You. Show me that weapon you picked yesterday."

A few students perked up, curious.

Eden stepped forward, unfastening the scabbard from his belt. He held it out, gripping the handle carefully.

A slow, deliberate motion—he pulled the blade free.

A whisper of steel.

For the first time, the sword was revealed.

The blade was black—pure, deep, like a void that swallowed the light around it. A single white temper line ran along the edge, resembling the delicate curves of a calamus leaf. Despite its dark appearance, the steel gleamed with an almost unnatural sharpness.

Its shape was sleek, straight, resembling an elongated chokutō—larger than most one-handed blades but not quite a greatsword. The handle and scabbard were crafted from a dark, Damascus-patterned wood, seamlessly matching the aesthetic of the blade itself.

It was beautiful.

Yet something about it felt… off.

Raella frowned. She stepped closer, inspecting the weapon. "That's not a standard blade."

Eden remained silent.

Raella reached out, running a finger along the flat of the blade. A sharp, nearly imperceptible hum vibrated through the metal the moment she made contact.

She withdrew her hand immediately.

"What is this?" she murmured, more to herself than anyone else.

The room was dead silent.

Even Idris, who usually had something snide to say, kept his mouth shut.

Finally, Raella exhaled. "Alright. Keep it. But bring it to me again when I tell you to."

Eden sheathed the sword without a word.

Raella turned back to the rest of the class. "Enough distractions. Let's move on to today's assignment."

She gestured toward the far end of the training hall. A large, circular platform had been set up—smooth metal panels embedded with intricate runes, glowing softly with pulsing mana lines.

"This," she said, "is a Virtual Reality Mana Gate."

A murmur spread through the students.

"We'll be running a simulation today. Each of you will enter the gate alone and face a combat scenario designed to test your current abilities. The objective is simple—survive."

Another ripple of tension.

"Your performance will be monitored and graded. And before you ask—yes, this technology is advanced enough to simulate combat injuries. If you die in the simulation, you'll wake up here—completely fine, but with the experience of how it felt to lose."

That shut them up.

Raella smirked. "I'll be observing all of you from the control panel. Step forward when your name is called."

One by one, students began stepping onto the platform. As they vanished into the simulation, Raella turned toward the observation screens, watching the battles unfold.

Then—

"Eden de Sylvain."

Eden stepped forward.

The moment his foot touched the platform—

The world shifted.

Virtual Reality Mana Gate

Darkness.

Then—light.

The moment he reached out—extending his mana perception—he felt it.

The world was fabricated, but the mana within it was not.

He could still see.

His surroundings took shape in his mind's eye, just as they did in reality. the movement in the distance—something was approaching.

A low growl echoed through the air.

His first enemy had arrived.

Eden exhaled, gripping his weapon. His body still felt light, his Aether still absent.

But that didn't matter.

He adjusted his stance.

The fight had begun.

'Here comes he first wave.'

The moment Eden materialized in the simulation, he knew he was in trouble.

His mana perception flared, instantly mapping out his surroundings. A dense forest stretched in every direction, its towering trees forming a thick canopy that blocked out most of the sunlight. The air was damp and heavy, filled with the scent of soil, moss, and rotting leaves. Vines and tangled roots sprawled across the forest floor, making every step a potential hazard.

And then—movement.

Small, erratic, fast.

Eden gritted his teeth, instinctively activating his Lightning mana.

A subtle crackle of electricity pulsed across his skin, his veins thrumming with power. It wouldn't make him invincible, but it would give him what he needed—speed.

Speed was survival.

A rustling noise—left. Then right.

They were already surrounding him.

His mana perception locked onto twelve distinct signatures, moving with calculated precision. These weren't wild beasts.

They were organized.

Three archers perched in the trees, already nocking arrows. Five melee fighters wielding jagged swords, daggers, and clubs. Three spear-wielders positioned behind them. And at the very back—a shaman.

Great.

Eden drew his sword in a single fluid motion, the blade humming faintly in his grip. Lightning mana coiled through his limbs, heightening his reflexes.

A sharp twang—an arrow shot toward him.

Eden vanished.

A burst of electricity crackled at his feet as he sidestepped at inhuman speed, the arrow barely grazing his shoulder. Before he had even landed, another goblin lunged from behind—a dagger flashing toward his ribs.

Eden pivoted sharply, his blade flashing upward in a precise arc.

A clean cut.

The goblin's head separated from its body, dissolving into glowing particles.

One down. Eleven left.

The other goblins reacted instantly.

Four melee fighters rushed him from different angles. The archers let loose another volley of arrows.

Eden didn't wait.

His Lightning mana surged, and he launched forward—twisting past the first attacker. His blade carved through the goblin's thigh, severing muscle and sending it toppling to the ground.

He turned—another enemy swung for his head.

Too slow.

Eden sidestepped, his Lightning-fueled step making him a blur of motion. He retaliated with a thrust, piercing straight through the goblin's gut.

He yanked the blade free, spun—

A spear lunged toward his chest.

Eden tilted his body at the last second, the spear grazing past him. He retaliated with a brutal downward slash, splitting the goblin's skull.

Three down.

But the shaman had finished its chant.

The air heated.

Eden barely had time to react as a fireball shot toward him.

He instinctively brought up his sword, expecting to be engulfed in flames—

—only for the fire to vanish.

What—?

For a brief second, his sword pulsed with aether. It had destroyed the spell.

Eden didn't have time to process it though because right away two more goblins rushed at him.

He lunged.

His Lightning mana surged, his form blurring as he closed the distance in a blink. The shaman let out a startled screech—

Too late.

Eden's blade sliced cleanly through its throat.

The moment the shaman collapsed into dust, the others hesitated.

That was all the opportunity Eden needed.

With a final Lightning-fueled burst, he tore through the remaining goblins, his movements sharp, precise—devastating.

One. Two. Three. Four.

And then—silence.

The first wave was over.

Eden exhaled heavily. His arms ached. His shoulder stung where the arrow had grazed him. His breath came in ragged bursts.

And worst of all—his stamina was already draining.

Then, the simulation flickered.

Wave two began.

A thunderous roar split the air.

Eden immediately turned, his instincts screaming at him.

The trees shook violently, branches snapping like brittle twigs as seven massive orcs crashed through the underbrush, their hulking forms barreling toward him like a stampede of unstoppable destruction.

They weren't like goblins. Goblins were fast, coordinated, tricky.

Orcs were brutal.

They didn't need strategy. They didn't need formations.

They charged. They crushed. They killed.

And right now?

They were all coming straight for him.

Eden gritted his teeth, his Lightning mana crackling across his body, sparks dancing along his limbs. His veins hummed with raw power, sharpening his movements, feeding him speed.

But even with it—this was going to be hell.

The first orc reached him in seconds, swinging downward with a bone-crushing overhead strike.

Eden vanished in a burst of lightning.

The massive warhammer slammed into the dirt, shaking the entire ground.

Eden reappeared at its flank, his sword flashing toward the orc's exposed ribs—

Clang!

The impact barely left a scratch.

Their skin was too thick.

Eden didn't have time to think—another orc was already swinging.

He leaned back, dodging a massive cleaver by inches, feeling the wind from its swing cut across his face. Before he could counter, a third orc came from the side.

Eden twisted at the last second—

Too late.

A massive club smashed into his ribs.

Pain exploded through his torso.

His body lifted off the ground, skidding across the dirt, crashing into a fallen log.

His vision blurred. His breath hitched.

Too slow.

Too weak.

A part of him instinctively reached for Time Sight.

No.

He couldn't rely on it.

He had to win without it.

He forced himself up—just in time to see three more orcs rushing him at once.

Think.

He couldn't overpower them. Their durability was too high.

But strength wasn't everything.

Eden exhaled.

His Lightning mana flared—and then he moved.

In an instant, he was behind the first orc.

Before it could react, his blade rammed through its lower spine, severing nerves. The orc collapsed, twitching violently, its body failing to function.

The second orc swung.

Eden rolled forward, dodging the massive axe by a hair's breadth. His blade sliced across the orc's thigh, severing a major tendon.

The orc stumbled—rage twisting its face—but its leg gave out beneath it.

Eden didn't stop moving.

The last orc raised its war axe, preparing to bring it down with enough force to cleave a man in half.

Eden moved first.

Lightning surged through his veins, his body disappearing in a blur of speed—

—and reappearing right in front of the orc's chest.

With all the momentum of his Lightning Step, he drove his blade straight into its heart.

The orc jerked violently, body convulsing as electricity ravaged its organs, burning them from the inside out.

Then—it collapsed.

Eden staggered.

His breath was ragged. His body screamed at him, pain radiating from every injury.

But he had won.

And then—

The ground trembled.

Eden's head snapped up.

Through the trees, a massive shadow loomed.

The High Orc Chief.

Shit.