The arena eventually went back to normal after that whole mess with Thales. All the chaos and tension got swallowed up by the training when the lecture arrived. It felt less like a school facility and more like a freaking colosseum built to remind everyone how small they were. The sounds of fists hitting pads, the smack of kicks and the occasional grunt or laughs filled the air again. Everyone had already paired up.
Flux use was off-limits for now and honestly, it made sense. Using it this early would've been overkill. This part of training was all about martial arts with fancy powers, no flashy techniques, just raw skill. The instructors weren't even paying attention unless someone started bleeding out. Basically, we were left to handle ourselves.
I ran a hand through my hair, irritated by how heavy it was. My long, crimson hair kept falling in my face no matter what I did. With a sigh, I summoned a string and tied it back into a messy ponytail. The bangs still hung in front of my eyes, though. I'd thought about cutting it a few times, but the Argemenes always kept their hair long. It's some weird family tradition I never signed up for but was stuck with anyway.
Catching a glimpse of my reflection on the polished metal wall, I couldn't help but scoff. Phasnovterich was tall, really tall, one meter ninety five centimeters tall, broad-shouldered and perfectly built like he had been designed in a lab to look like trouble. It was insane how this body looked like a male lead, even though he was just a side character.
A sigh slipped out. Handsome or not, appearances didn't mean much here. When I turned, Verdamona was watching me. Her gaze lingered long enough to make me squint at her.
"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"
She didn't even hesitate. "You're handsome."
I blinked. Of all things she could've said…
"Thanks, but looks can be deceiving. I'm an Argemenes, remember?"
She didn't flinch or look away, though. There was curiosity in her eyes, like she either didn't believe the rumors or didn't give a damn.
"Either way, don't think I'm holding back just because you said that."
Before she could reply, I moved first. My body just reacted.
The fight was all rhythm. My strikes were clean with short punches, tight kicks and sharp defense, all things Phasnovterich clearly drilled into himself for years. It felt weird how natural it was, like my muscles already knew what to do. Three days ago, I woke up in this body and now it moved like it was mine. His memories, his fights, training and pain weren't mine, but they felt like they were.
Verdamona, though…
Her fighting style was wild. It was nothing like the House students, who fought like trained performers with perfect form and predictable flow. She fought like someone who had to survive.
Her kicks were brutal though.
I caught one aimed at my ribs and my arms still rattled from the impact. Before I could recover, her other leg was already flying for my head. Her speed wasn't refined. It was desperate and instinctive. Every movement was meant to hurt with no fancy transitions or flourishes. If she saw an opening, she took it. If she could break something, she would. Her fighting wasn't pretty but it was effective.
I blocked, parried and deflected, barely keeping pace. I swept at her legs to gain some distance but she didn't let up. She ducked low, slammed into my stomach, and twisted her hips for another kick that barely missed my jaw. I could feel her momentum, like she was trying to tear through me instead of fight me.
I caught her wrist, tried to flip her, but she dropped her weight at the last second and slipped out. She spun back up fast and went for my ribs again. Her kicks were strong enough to bruise, even when blocked. But once I adjusted to her rhythm, I started spotting the flaws like her wide swings, unstable stance and inconsistent footwork. She came at me with a spinning back kick aimed at my chest. I sidestepped, pivoted, and countered with a kick to her midsection. It didn't land perfectly but it threw her off balance.
I stepped in and slammed a palm strike into her stomach.
She gasped, air rushing out of her lungs. Her knees hit the floor, her hands gripping her stomach as she tried to breathe again. I crouched down a bit, watching her shoulders shake.
"Verdamona, your battle experience's impressive, I'll give you that. But your technique is rough. You're repeating the same patterns no matter what I do. That might work in the streets, but not here."
She looked up, still catching her breath. I didn't sugarcoat it. After all, I was using Phaser's bottle experience and memories to educate her.
"Combat isn't one-size-fits-all. You have to adjust. Some fights need speed. Some need power. Some need precision. Stick to one rhythm and you'll get crushed."
I offered my hand. She hesitated, then took it. Her hand was smaller than I expected, and rough, too. I pulled her up. She brushed the hair from her face and smirked faintly.
"You sound like a teacher. Guess I've got a lot to learn. So, will you teach me?"
For a second, I froze. That wasn't how it was supposed to go. In the game, this was Thales's role. After saving her, he'd train her, guide her and fall in love with her. But now? She was looking at me. She was asking me to take his place.
The realization hit me hard. If I kept stepping into Thales's scenes, if I kept messing with the flow… then I would be the one she fell for. Her first love wouldn't be Thales anymore. It will be me.
I let the silence stretch before nodding.
"Fine. I'll teach you."
Her eyes lit up a little with gratitude.
"Just don't fall for me,"
She chuckled, shaking her head. "Don't flatter yourself. I don't fall for guys after a few days."
"Sure you don't."
We reset our stances.
"We're going again, Verdamona."
She groaned but raised her guard, smiling anyway. "You're relentless."
"Get used to it. You asked for this."
Around us, the arena buzzed with the sounds of other students sparring, but my focus stayed locked on her. And somewhere between the punches and kicks, a thought dug in.
If I kept rewriting the story like this, it wouldn't be hers anymore. I had three years in this university before the plot's big shift and be ready for whatever came next.
Because the way things were going, everything was changing.