NightBlade Academy. Set in the capital of Westend, the academy is famous not just as a school for incredibly talented marksmen, but of assassins. Anyone and everyone who has something to do with martial arts, weapons, and guns has a business to be here. But it is also considered to be the most dangerous educational facility on Earth.
Sieg Brenner, a young man with black hair and golden eyes, walks inside the school. Wearing the standard dark blue suit-and-tie uniform for male students, the only difference is that his hip holds two weapons: a ninjato on his left and a Desert Eagle handgun on his right. Transferring right after a few weeks when class started, he was peculiar to some, fresh meat for the others to pick on.
The classroom door opens as Sieg Brenner steps in. Students are already seated, some talking, others cleaning weapons. Sieg finds an empty desk and sits down. Just as he starts to relax, something shiny flies past his face. A knife sticks into the wall behind him, still vibrating from impact. Sieg's golden eyes go up to see who threw the knife.
A girl with long black hair and red highlights stands a few feet away. Her amber eyes study Sieg Brenner carefully. She walks over, pulls the knife from the wall, and spins it between her fingers.
"Hey, new kid. Your reflexes are not bad! Most newbies would've gotten a nice little cut on their first day."
She leans against his desk, looking down at you.
"Yeah. Nice throw as well." Sieg replied with a nervous smile. "Is there anything I can do for you, er…"
"I'm Yumi Hasegawa. Top student in this class, especially with knives. That was just a little welcome test. Don't take it personally, I do it to all the new students."
She crosses her arms and narrows her eyes.
"So what's your story? You don't look like much. The headmaster must see something in you to let you join mid-semester."
"Not that much. I am just as normal as I can be." Sieg smiled at Yumi.
Yumi's expression softens slightly when she notices Sieg's nervousness.
"Look, this place isn't like your normal military or weapons-training school. We train to become the best in our field. Whether you become a soldier, a mercenary, or an assassin. Some days you'll bleed. Some days you'll want to quit. But if you stick around, you might actually learn something useful."
"Right. I'll think about it, Ms. Hasegawa. Thank you." Sieg replied.
Yumi then glances at the piece of paper on Sieg's desk. It was his schedule for his first day of school.
"Combat training after lunch? Good luck with that. Coach Rivera doesn't go easy on anyone, especially not new kids." Yumi smirks, her amber eyes looking at Sieg, hinting at a light threat.
"Is it that bad?" Sieg asked with a worried tone. Yumi just shakes her head. She felt Sieg is another student who was at the wrong place and in the wrong time.
Yumi seems about to walk away, then turns back.
"If you need help finding your way around... don't ask me. I'm not a tour guide."
She pauses, then sighs.
"But if someone gives you trouble, let me know. Only I get to mess with the new students in this class."
She flips her knife one more time before hiding it somewhere in her uniform.
"Try not to die on your first day. It would be a waste of my perfectly good knife throw. See you in combat class, new kid."
With that, she walks back to her seat, but you notice her glancing back at you a couple times, a hint of interest in her eyes. When Yumi goes back to her seat, Sieg relaxes as he pulls the tie to cool himself off.
"New kid huh?" Sieg smiled while shaking his head. "We'll see about that."
Lunchtime came and went by like nothing. It was now time for combat practice.
The subtle clink of metal against his hip was a familiar comfort as Sieg walked, the weight of the ninjato and Desert Eagle a constant reminder of who he was and what he carried. Yumi's challenge, though startling, had barely registered beyond a quick flicker of his honed senses. Words like "new kid" and "waste of a good knife throw" simply bounced off the mental wall Sieg had built around himself years ago.
He didn't need to be liked. He didn't need friends. He only needed to honor a ghost - a legend whose shadow still provided warmth even in death.
Thanatos, an enigma of the assassin world, had saved him, not just from the elements, but from a meaningless existence. Every scar, every ache, every drop of sweat was an offering to him, a testament to the belief the man had once placed in Sieg.
The corridors of Nightblade Academy, with their hushed reverence and the occasional sharp glint of light from a passing student's hidden weapon, felt less like a school and more like a carefully constructed arena.
Each step echoed the weight of expectation - not from the faculty or his peers, but from within himself.
Sieg could feel the subtle shift in other students' gazes as he passed. Some were curious. Others are dismissive. A few held a predatory glint he recognized from years of training.
Resentment would follow.
It always did.
But resentment, like hunger and cold, was merely a sensation to be endured - and then overcome.
Sieg arrived at a pair of massive, reinforced double doors. A faint rhythmic thud-thud-crash resonated from within, punctuated by grunts and the sharp hiss of air being expelled.
This was the Combat Training arena.
He straightened his uniform, adjusting the set of his shoulders. His hand reflexively brushed against the kashira of his ninjato - a calming touch.
Pushing open one of the heavy doors, Sieg stepped into a vast, high-ceilinged chamber.
The air was thick with the scent of sweat, liniment, and ozone. Several groups of students were engaged in various forms of intense physical activity: sparring with training weapons, performing elaborate acrobatic drills, or testing their strength against complex apparatus.
At the center of it all stood a figure with a commanding presence.
Coach Rivera. The combat teacher.
Even from across the room, Sieg could feel the intensity radiating from him - a stark contrast to the casual challenge Yumi Hasegawa had offered earlier.
This was serious.
This was precisely why Sieg was here.
As he moved further into the room, scanning for an empty mat or an instruction area, a sharp, authoritative voice cut through the din.
"New blood! Front and center! And judging by the fact you made it this far, Yumi must have taken a day off from trying to lop off new recruits' ears."
All heads in the immediate vicinity turned toward Sieg Brenner.
Coach Rivera - a man whose physique seemed forged from iron and whose scarred face suggested he'd seen more than his fair share of conflict - beckoned him forward with a curt, no-nonsense flick of his wrist.
"Name, new kid!" he roared, his voice carrying easily across the expanse of the training ground.
"And what makes you think you're worth the sweat that will inevitably be staining this academy's floor from your efforts?"
"My name is Sieg Brenner, sir. And I'm just here for one reason. Because I am incredibly bored." Sieg replied while bowing slightly, his head down in respect.
The room fell silent as Sieg Brenner's name cut through the air, followed by a warrior's bow that spoke more of ancient tradition than academy courtesy. Before the echo of his simple declaration could fade, Coach Rivera was on him.
It was less an attack, more a test of raw, unadulterated speed and power.
Rivera moved like a piston-driven engine, a blur of powerful jabs and hooks aimed at Sieg's head and body. Most students, even veteran ones, would have been immediately overwhelmed, forced into a purely defensive crouch.
But Sieg Brenner wasn't like most students.
The Amamiya Kishin-Ryu pulsed through his veins, a phantom guidance of its ninjato-centric movements subtly influencing his empty-hand response. He didn't just dodge; he deflected, parried with crisp, economical movements, weaving and ducking with a fluidity that belied his solid build.
Each blocked punch landed with a meaty thwack, yet Sieg's stance remained unyielding.
Then he moved.
Seeing an opening, Sieg exploded upwards. It wasn't a showy jump, but a precise burst of controlled power that translated into a jump kick. Rivera, though quick, threw up his forearms in a tight guard.
The impact was audible - a sharp thud that vibrated through the air - and Rivera took a short, skidding step back, a rare occurrence.
A genuine grin, wide and predatory, split Coach Rivera's scarred face.
"Alright, new blood!" he roared, enthusiasm in his voice.
"Let's see if that was a fluke!"
He came again, faster now, harder. Each punch cracked the air, imbued with a bone-jarring strength that seemed to shake the very floor.
It wasn't about technique for Rivera now; it was a brutal assault of raw kinetic force, a hurricane of fists meant to dismantle.
Yet Sieg met him on even ground.
His form was a testament to brutal, repetitive training. Elbow blocks deflected a power hook with sickening precision. A cross to the ribs was sidestepped, countered with a snapping front kick that forced Rivera to parry high.
Sieg's punches, though not as heavy as Rivera's, were aimed with clinical efficiency—targeting vulnerable points: a jab to the solar plexus, a quick uppercut aimed at the chin that Rivera just managed to ride with a tilt of his head.
He moved like flowing water, adapting to the current, finding small eddies of opportunity.
Finally, seeing another momentary opening, Sieg surged forward through Rivera's guard, his elbow snapping out in a tight, short arc. It wasn't a full-force blow, but a perfectly placed strike just below Rivera's pectoral muscle, sending a jolt through the larger man.
Coach Rivera recoiled, his breathing a little heavier.
He straightened, rubbing unconsciously at the spot where Sieg's elbow had connected. The grin was still on his face, but now it held a different quality - respect, and a nascent, sharp edge of competitive interest.
He looked Sieg over, from his carefully maintained uniform to the coiled tension in his shoulders.
The combat arena was utterly silent now, every student's gaze fixated on the two combatants.
"Amamiya Kishin-Ryu, then, is it?" Rivera finally grunted, a speculative glint in his eye.
"Never seen one of them fight purely empty-handed quite like that. Most are too dependent on their blade."
He gestured with a dismissive sweep of his hand toward the waiting students.
"Alright, everyone! Back to work!"
The room gradually filled again with the sounds of training, though many glances still shot their way.
Coach Rivera fixed his gaze back on Sieg, his grin widening, a new purpose igniting in his eyes.
"You're good, Brenner. Very good for a new recruit. Proved yourself far quicker than I expected. That was your initiation."
He then clapped his hands together, a sharp report.
"Now, let's see how well you follow instructions. We're running sparring matches today. You'll rotate partners, learn how different fighting styles interact."
He paused, a glint in his eye.
"And since you're so eager to show off, you can start with... well, let's just say you earned yourself a slightly more challenging introduction than most."
"Think of it as a continuation of your welcome, courtesy of your legend of a master." Coach Rivera grinned at me, his eyes glinting dangerously.
"Your first opponent will be Yumi Hasegawa, the Scarlet Queen herself.
(TO BE CONTINUED)