Morning light bled into the narrow dorm window, slicing through the dim stillness.
Wads stirred with a grimace, his muscles screaming in protest as if the entire weight of the world still clung to him. His mana reserves felt wrung dry, every breath sluggish, his limbs heavy.
The duel replayed in his mind on an endless loop.
The flash-freeze that locked the ground beneath his feet.
The suffocating cold that made the air bite like blades.
Her eyes — those indicolite irises — watching him with calm detachment as if she had already seen the end before he moved.
He sat up slowly, reaching for the battered notebook on his desk. Its pages were a maze of scribbles, diagrams, and scattered insights.
"Abyssal Freeze – wide range, near-instant. Can be resisted partially with Gravity Lattice if anchored fast enough. Needs faster deployment…
Gravity Lattice – latency: 1.2 sec before full field effect. Vulnerable to speed-based assaults. Requires predictive timing, not reactive…"
His pen scratched against paper in feverish determination.
This wasn't a loss — it was data.
---
The Grind Begins
The next week became a blur of sweat, strain, and silent grit.
He trained without his Deity power for most of it — pushing his body to endure beyond its comfort. Weighted bands clung to his wrists and ankles; steel spheres hovered in the air as he manipulated them with Gravity Lattice, forcing precision while jogging laps around the academy grounds.
Sometimes he'd fire practice bolts at a suspended target, then distort their trajectory mid-flight, teaching himself to correct or bend motion in microseconds. Other times he'd spar against three classmates at once, forcing himself to manage multiple gravitational zones while staying on his feet.
Pain was constant, but so was the improvement.
---
An Unseen Watcher
On the fifth evening, while the sun dipped into molten gold over the horizon, Wads was at the far training field, shirt damp with sweat. He had four iron plates hovering in a rotating orbit, each shifting direction at unpredictable intervals. His brow furrowed in focus — controlling multiple fields at once demanded brutal mental endurance.
He didn't notice the faint shimmer in the shade of the old oak nearby.
Reiyell stood there, her blue hair catching faint traces of sunset. Her gaze was unreadable, but there was a curve to her lips — a rare, quiet approval.
She stayed only a moment before turning away. Wads never knew she had been there.
---
The Announcement
A week after the duel, the Academy bells tolled three sharp chimes. The Hall of Fame swelled with students, all murmuring with the low thrum of anticipation.
The Headmaster's voice carried through enchanted amplifiers:
"In one and a half months, Zhero Academy will host the Grand Class Confrontation. This will not be a mere display of strength — but of unity, intellect, and adaptability. There will be three stages:
Class vs Class Group Battle — test your cohesion.
Strategic Trials — test your wit.
Colosseum Duels — test your limits."
The hall rippled with excitement, but also tension. Rivalries were born in that instant. Eyes darted toward those deemed the strongest, whispers rising like smoke.
And in the middle of it, a few glances fell toward Wads.
Rumors had already spread of his spar with someone untouchable. They didn't know her name — but they knew he had survived it.