Chapter 2 - The Spark That Leads

Reynald Hero Academy.

Founded by the legendary swordsman Reynald Helios, one of the Five Great Heroes who sealed the Demon God, the academy was created to forge awakened youths into genuine heroes through four years of intensive training. Helios, blessed by the Seven Gods, believed that true heroes must rise above politics, pride, and pasts.

Heroes were individuals so powerful that their presence alone could alter the strength of nations.

The Empire, the Holy Kingdom, and the Republic—the three superpowers dividing the continent—admitted anyone who awakened the "Stigmata" into the academy without hesitation, hoping to raise just one more superior hero.

Naturally, conflict followed.

Youth from different countries, classes, and ideals clashed in the tight, competitive halls of the academy. Fights were common, grudges constant.

Eventually, after intervention from Helios himself, the academy grounds were declared a complete "neutral zone."

In other words—

"So, within the academy grounds, no discrimination based on nationality or status is allowed."

"…So?"

"Even if Iris is the Holy Kingdom's Saint, she's just a cadet here."

"What are you trying to say?"

"A month's suspension is too long. Let's reduce it to four days."

"Hey, you...!"

Professor Lucas, silent until now, rubbed his neck as if he were suppressing a headache.

"You were originally suspended for a week!"

"Correct."

"But you cause an incident during suspension, and now you want leniency?"

"When negotiating, one should be bold, don't you think?"

"There's no lunatic who gets in trouble and then demands a better deal! Do you think you're in any position to bargain?!"

Professor Lucas's glare could've curdled milk. I met it with a faint smirk.

"Professor Bianca's birthday is coming up, right?"

Lucas blinked. Bianca, head of the Magic Department, was famously cold to him.

"…Why bring that up?"

Because I knew his secret.

Lucas, nicknamed the 'Bloodhound' for his ruthlessness, secretly had a crush.

"Don't you want to impress her with the right gift?"

"Hah. Why would I—?"

"Ah, never mind then. But if you knew the right gift, maybe even someone she disliked might get a second glance."

His eyes twitched.

Thud.

I stood from my chair and bowed politely.

"Well, if you're not interested, I'll take the punishment."

"…Wait."

I paused, hiding a smile.

"Yes, Professor?"

"I'll reduce the suspension, but there's a condition."

"If it's what Bianca would like—"

"No. Something else."

His gaze turned sharp.

"Join tomorrow's Warrior Department sparring class—and win."

"Against who?"

"Classified."

A surprise match. Of course.

'He wants proof.'

He, the war dog of the academy, had been floored by a cadet. Not a prodigy. Not a veteran. Just me.

Camilla Vedice, considered the next Sword of the Holy Kingdom, had collapsed before drawing her blade.

Lucas needed confirmation.

"Alright."

"…Confident, are you."

"It's just a spar, nothing too difficult."

Lucas exhaled deeply. He was probably wondering how I changed so much overnight.

Too bad. I didn't know either.

"Then I'll be going."

"Wait."

"Yes?"

Lucas coughed awkwardly.

"So… what exactly would Bianca like?"

...

As expected. A romantic.

The next morning.

I stared at the ceiling in silence.

"It really wasn't just a dying dream."

Had I wandered too long, chasing the Primordial Flame?

I still couldn't believe I was back.

I washed my face and stared into the mirror.

Ash-gray hair. Green eyes.

It hadn't changed since I received the Blessing of Revival. My body had stopped aging.

Looking at my reflection, I changed into the cadet uniform.

The fabric clung uncomfortably. It felt like a stranger's skin.

Still, it was mine.

A new beginning.

"Hah, you seriously want me to spar with that guy?"

Felix O'Dorman. Slender, elegant, with wavy blond hair. Warrior Department. Ranked in the top 100.

"Do you have a problem with that?"

"No… it's just unexpected."

He straightened up under Professor Lucas's cold stare.

Felix sighed and picked up a wooden sword.

"Let's get this over with. Draw your weapon."

He hadn't seen me fight yesterday. Maybe he'd heard the rumors—but he didn't believe them.

"I heard Dale knocked down Professor Lucas."

"No way. That's gotta be exaggerated."

"No! I saw it myself!"

Cadets gathered, murmuring.

I gripped the wooden sword.

It felt right in my hand. Familiar.

"Magic is prohibited during the match," Lucas said.

Felix scoffed. "As if I need it to beat this guy."

Magic. The Breath of the Gods. Heroes wielded it after awakening the Stigmata.

Me? I barely had any. Less than a tenth of the average cadet.

Rabbit Han. That was my nickname.

Because I ran out of mana faster than a rabbit in heat.

I tapped the ground with my sword.

Yesterday was instinct.

Today, I had direction.

"Come at me."

All my life, I followed others.

The weakest of the Final Five.

Always chasing. Never leading.

"Scared? Huh?" Felix sneered.

I had never taken the lead.

Never reached out.

Until now.

Thud.

I dodged.

Right foot forward. Pivot. Spin.

Wood sliced the air—

Sun Sword.

KWAANG!

Felix flew backward, coughing violently, his wooden sword clattering.

Gasps erupted.

I stepped forward, tapping the ground.

"What's wrong? Didn't you say you'd come to me?"

He didn't answer.

"Then I'll come to you."

From now on—

I won't chase flickers in the dark.

Let the world follow the fire I leave behind.

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?"