The training yard was alive with noise — the clang of steel, the hiss of breath, and the low murmurs of guards gathering at the edges. Word had spread fast.
The heroes were fighting.
Eli stood in the centre of the courtyard, sunlight cutting across his confident grin. His sword gleamed in his hand, his stance loose but coiled like a spring. "No Star powers," Arielle reminded from the sidelines, her voice firm. "This is about technique — not gifts."
"Fine by me," Eli said, rolling his shoulders.
Nhilly only nodded, fingers brushing against Draco's Shroud. Even dulled for training, the blade carried an unnatural weight, its edge drinking in the light instead of reflecting it. He looked calm, but his pulse beat heavy beneath his skin.
Celeste, Kael, and Seris stood nearby, watching closely. Celeste's hands were clasped tight in front of her, Kael's gaze sharp, calculating. Seris's expression was unreadable, her focus entirely on Nhilly.
"Begin," Arielle commanded.
Eli moved first — a blur of motion that broke the still air.
His sword sliced upward from a low stance, fast enough to whistle. Nhilly blocked, but the impact jarred his wrist, driving him back a step.
Another strike came instantly — diagonal, then a reverse sweep, then a thrust. Each one perfectly spaced, perfectly timed.
To anyone else, it looked random, messy, almost reckless. But Nhilly saw through it.
He's not wild, he thought, catching the rhythm in the chaos. He's hiding skill under noise.
He countered a horizontal slash, twisted his blade to parry the follow-up, but Eli didn't stop. The boy fought like he was made of fire — fast, relentless, and alive.
Nhilly dodged another strike and slashed forward, but Eli parried, spinning with practiced precision. Their blades locked, faces inches apart. Eli's grin widened.
"Not bad for someone who looks half-dead," he said through gritted teeth.
Nhilly smirked faintly. "Funny. I was thinking the same thing."
Eli shoved him off and immediately closed the gap again.
Steel met steel in a flurry of sparks. The clash rang through the courtyard like thunder. Each exchange left Nhilly slightly slower, his breath shorter. He could read Eli's form perfectly — but his body couldn't keep up. His muscles screamed, the dull ache in his arms spreading to his chest.
Eli feinted low, forcing Nhilly to block, then pivoted, slashing across his ribs. The blade tore through his shirt, a thin line of red blooming beneath it.
Nhilly hissed through his teeth but didn't retreat. His parries turned sharper, tighter — conserving motion, cutting out everything unnecessary. Still, the gap between them was widening.
Eli's strikes became faster, the rhythm unpredictable again. Left. Right. High. Low.
Nhilly barely kept up, his feet slipping slightly across the stone. His blade intercepted most of them, but not all. Cuts began to form along his arms and side — shallow, but stinging.
His knees buckled briefly under the weight of a heavy downward strike, and Eli stepped in close for the finishing blow.
Too slow, Nhilly thought bitterly. My body's still too weak.
He exhaled — once, steady. His hand tightened on the hilt.
Then the air shifted.
Darkness poured from him like a breath he didn't know he was holding. A thin black mist unfurled around him, curling like smoke in water.
Gasps erupted from the spectators.
Celeste's voice broke the silence first. "Nhilly, what are you doing!?"
But the mist swallowed the sound, soft and heavy.
In that darkness, everything slowed. Nhilly's thoughts became razor sharp. He could feel the air moving around Eli, the warmth of his stance, the pulse of the world itself folding inward.
The mist thinned — and he was gone.
It happened too fast for anyone to see.
When the air cleared, Nhilly stood behind Eli, the edge of Draco's Shroud resting lightly against the back of his head.
"I win," he said quietly.
The entire yard went still.
Eli froze, breathing hard, sweat glistening on his neck. Then he let out a single breath and laughed — low, breathless, disbelieving. "Well… damn."
Nhilly sheathed his sword and turned to walk away.
Celeste's voice cut through the silence, sharp and frustrated. "You weren't supposed to use that!"
Nhilly stopped mid-step, glancing back over his shoulder. His voice was calm, but his eyes were cold.
"You said no Star abilities," he said. "You never said anything about my swords abilities."
That silenced her.
Kael blinked, realization dawning. "That mist… in the labyrinth. That was you."
Seris turned sharply, eyes wide — real, genuine shock breaking through her composure. "Wait. That sword… it's a Holy sword, no Relic?"
Nhilly didn't answer. He met her gaze for a long, quiet moment a small, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Celeste stepped forward, her tone still uneasy. "You scared them," she said softly, gesturing to the guards, the spectators still whispering at the edges of the field.
Nhilly's expression didn't shift. "They're not real," he said flatly. "Does it matter?"
Celeste froze. Her mouth opened, then closed again. She didn't have an answer.
Without another word, Nhilly turned and walked off the training grounds. His steps were calm, measured, deliberate.
Only when he was out of sight, rounding the corner into the palace corridor, did his shoulders relax.
A faint smile touched his lips.
I looked cool as hell huh, better actor than I thought.
Eli was still rubbing the back of his head when Nhilly's footsteps disappeared through the corridor. "Man," he muttered with a grin, "I like the guy, but I kinda hate him"
Kael raised an eyebrow. "You just hate losing."
Eli laughed. "That too."
Celeste exhaled heavily, pressing her fingers to her temple. "That wasn't supposed to happen. We were meant to train, not nearly give the guards a heart attack."
Arielle, who had been quietly watching from the side, clapped her hands once. "Well, if you're still breathing, then the lesson worked. Now who's next?"
Eli threw himself down on the nearest bench with an exaggerated groan. "Not me. I'm good."
Kael stepped forward, blades already drawn. "I'll go."
Seris blinked. "With me?"
"Who else?" he replied simply.
Celeste frowned immediately. "You don't both need to—"
"I'll sit this one out," she said quickly, shaking her head. "Fighting just… isn't my thing."
Eli smirked. "You're just scared you'll break a nail."
Celeste shot him a glare that could've killed a lesser man. "No, I just don't enjoy hitting people for sport."
"Suit yourself," Kael said, turning toward Seris. "Shall we?"
She hesitated for only a heartbeat, then nodded. "Fine. But don't complain when this gets painful."
The guards murmured again, forming a wider circle as the two took their positions.
Kael stood loose but centred one hand on his short blade, his posture minimal, efficient. His breathing was steady, his stance unreadable.
Seris drew her weapon a thin, pale blade that caught the sunlight and scattered it like shards of glass. The air around her shimmered faintly, not from a Star's power, but from sheer presence.
Arielle's arm dropped. "Begin!"
Kael moved first, just like Eli had but his style was the polar opposite. Silent, precise, clean. Every movement was measured, each step designed to control distance. He didn't waste motion or strength.
Seris countered his approach not by matching it, but by reading it. Her sword intercepted his first strike with a quiet, effortless parry. The second she sidestepped, redirecting his momentum. Kael adjusted instantly, sliding low for a sweep — but she anticipated it, her blade tapping against his and knocking it wide.
The clash was quiet, controlled, nothing like the violent flurry Nhilly and Eli had shown. This was elegance versus efficiency.
Nhilly had returned by then, leaning against a column just outside the ring. His shirt was half-buttoned, a strip of bandage visible beneath it. He watched silently, eyes narrowed.
Kael moves like someone who's fought humans all his life, he thought. Seris… like she's fought the world itself.
Kael pivoted, slashing upward, forcing Seris back a step. She deflected cleanly, the sunlight catching her blade and scattering into faint halos across the yard. For a heartbeat, her eyes glowed faintly — not with power, but focus.
He shifted low again, closing the gap. Their blades locked, tension building between them.
He pushed forward, testing her strength. She yielded slightly, letting him think he had control, then twisted using his own momentum to turn the lock against him. Kael hit the ground with a thud, rolling once before landing in a crouch, sword raised.
A few guards clapped under their breath before quickly stopping when Seris glanced their way.
Kael chuckled, low and dry. "You're sharp."
Seris lowered her blade slightly. "You're too patient."
"That's a compliment."
"Not really."
Celeste, who had been watching with her hands clasped, finally relaxed a little. "Well… at least they didn't try to kill each other."
Eli smirked. "Yeah, give it time."
Arielle stepped forward. "Enough. You've all shown your form." Her tone softened slightly. "I'll admit, it's… impressive. But don't get comfortable. The next time you're out there, it won't be each other you're fighting."
The guards began to disperse, murmuring quietly as they left the yard.
Kael offered Seris a polite nod, which she returned before sheathing her sword. "You've improved," she said quietly.
As they left the courtyard together, the late sunlight fell across the polished stone, their shadows stretching long and uneven across the ground.
For the first time since entering this world, Nhilly found himself almost… curious.
Curious about the people he was trapped with. Curious about the world pretending to be real. Curious what would happen when the script finally broke.
And deep down, in a place he never admitted maybe a little curious about what he'd do when it did.