Chapter 2 - The Spark That Leads

Silence fell over the training hall.

Professor Lucas, who had proposed the sparring match, and the dozens of cadets who'd gathered in hopes of seeing something entertaining, all stared in stunned disbelief at Felix—who was now hunched over, vomiting on the floor.

Felix O'Dorman.

A noble from a viscount house of the Empire, bearer of the "God of Sea's" Stigmata—a legacy passed down in his family for generations.

Arrogant, foul-mouthed, and detested by most, he was no one's favorite.

But there was one thing about him no one dared deny.

"Felix lost in swordsmanship?"

"And... he was completely outclassed?"

That one thing was his swordsmanship.

In non-magical duels, where cadets were restricted from using mana or divine breath, Felix consistently ranked in the top 50—maybe even top 30—at Reynald Hero Academy.

And yet…

Felix hadn't just lost.

He had been obliterated. Outmatched so thoroughly he hadn't landed a single clean hit.

'What was that swordsmanship just now…?'

Professor Lucas, widely known by his nickname "The Hound" for his sharp analytical skills, was still trying to process what he'd seen.

'The Sun Blade?'

The continent's strongest swordsmanship, forged by the legendary hero Reynald Helios—the same hero who sealed the Demon God five centuries ago.

How could Dale Han, a cadet with no connection to the Helios family—no, not even a noble—use it?

'No, it's not quite that.'

Lucas frowned, revising his initial thought.

'The stance, the rhythm… it's reminiscent. But it's not the same. It's not the Sun Blade I know.'

He knew, because he'd recently watched Yuren Helios, heir to the Helios ducal house, wield it with his own eyes.

Dale's technique was something different.

As though someone had taken the Sun Blade apart, refined it, and reshaped it into something personal.

If Lucas hadn't been so observant, the similarity might have gone unnoticed entirely.

'Even if the resemblance is a fluke… how is Dale capable of swordsmanship at this level?'

There was a reason Dale had always placed dead last for three years straight—not just for his meager mana reserves, but because he'd been, frankly, a hopeless klutz.

Until now.

Suddenly, he was a different person.

A low voice broke the silence.

Tap. Tap.

Dale rapped the floor lightly with the tip of his wooden sword, then took a step forward.

"What's wrong? Weren't you going to come at me first? No?"

"Then I'll come to you."

"D-Damn it…"

Felix, still gagging, struggled to his feet.

"You… you bastard!"

Snarling, he lunged at Dale.

Another clash.

Thud!

"Ugh!"

And just like that, Felix's sword missed again.

Dale didn't even blink. Felix flew backward and crashed to the ground.

The first loss, he could blame on being caught off guard. But not this.

"How… is this possible…?"

Rumors flashed through his mind.

That Dale had knocked out Professor Lucas. That he'd subdued Camilla Vedice with one hand.

'So those weren't rumors…?'

'No, that's… it's impossible.'

Even now, after losing twice, Felix's ego refused to accept it.

"...Dale Han."

His jaw clenched tight. Felix gripped his wooden sword so hard it creaked in protest.

"Let's see how long that smug face lasts."

The Stigmata on his chest glowed softly—azure light enveloping him as divine breath surged through his body.

Magic.

The exclusive power of the awakened.

"Haaap!"

Whoosh!

His next strike was nothing like the last.

"Felix O'Dorman!" Professor Lucas shot up from his seat, alarmed. But it was too late.

"Let's see you block this!"

As Felix roared and swung, Dale simply stood there, watching.

A faint smile tugged at his lips.

'Yuren once told me…'

'If you reach the pinnacle of the Sun Blade, you can cut through the sky without magic.'

Well, I wasn't there yet.

But maybe I could at least…

…cut through an oak training sword.

I inhaled slowly.

Pulled my sword back to my shoulder. Lowered my center of gravity.

All my strength coiled into my legs like a compressed spring.

Then—release.

I struck.

CHAAAANG!

A sound far too sharp for wood echoed in the hall.

Felix's sword split in two—clean, diagonal cut—falling from his hand.

"...Huh?"

Felix stared blankly.

"What… what just happened…?"

A wooden sword. No magic.

Yet somehow, it had cut through a magically reinforced blade.

'Impossible.'

Even with magic, cutting through an oak blade like this should've been unthinkable.

"What kind of trick did you—ugh!"

Thwack.

My fist flew forward and buried itself in his jaw.

Felix crumpled, unconscious before he hit the ground.

The hall remained silent.

No cheers. No jeers.

I turned to Professor Lucas.

"As promised, my suspension is down to four days, right?"

"…Ah… Yes." Lucas nodded blankly.

He'd seen it all. But he still couldn't understand.

I didn't bother explaining.

Even if I tried, he wouldn't get it.

"Well then. I'll see you next week, Professor."

I bowed lightly and left the training hall.

It was lunchtime. Cadets bustled across campus.

"Four days, huh."

Today was Tuesday. That gave me until Monday.

Plenty of time.

'I have work to do.'

This time… I'd prepare.

This time… I'd protect.

I had lost too much in my first life. My best friend. My brother. My mentor. My lover.

All gone.

Not again.

'Even if I can't choose how this life ends, I can choose how I live it.'

This time—I would protect them with my own hands.

"Let's go."

Later, in the dormitory hallway...

"I wondered where you were. You didn't answer when I knocked."

That voice.

I froze.

"...Iris?"

My heart ached.

I hadn't cried enough yesterday, apparently—because seeing her now, my chest tightened again.

"You're Dale Han, right?"

"Ah… yeah."

I barely managed a nod.

She walked toward me with light, measured steps.

Sky-blue eyes. So clear, so painfully familiar.

Those eyes... before she was cursed...

Even when blindfolded, she had been breathtaking.

But now? Now, she was radiant.

So radiant it made the stories—about her being the reincarnation of one of the Seven Gods—almost believable.

"Hmph."

She narrowed her eyes and scanned me from head to toe.

Empty hallway. Most cadets were at lunch.

And then—

SLAP!

"Huh?!"

My head snapped to the side.

She grabbed me by the collar.

"Hey. Who do you think you are, talking so casually to me? Do you even know who I am?"

"Uh…?"

"Fine. We're in the same year. I'll let that slide. But what was that crap yesterday? Who do you think you are, laying a hand on my friend, you jerk?"

Yeah… okay. From her perspective, I deserved that.

To her, I was a stranger.

I'd knocked down her bodyguard, then cried in front of her like a madman.

"I'm sorry. Yesterday I just… lost control. I'll apologize properly to Camilla."

Her expression softened—just slightly.

She released my collar with a huff.

"Well, if you're that sincere, I guess I can let it go."

She stepped back, shrugged.

Then smiled.

That smile.

The warm, bright smile that had been seared into my memories.

And in the gentlest voice—

"Oh, and everything that happened today?"

"Forget it."

"If you don't…"

The smile didn't fade.

"…I'll have to kill you, okay?"