Move sixteen was cut short as my momentary distraction forced me to retreat.
Ilya came through the next gap between our moves faster than before, her body dropping beneath a Cutting Draft I previously released, which should have forced her back. She planted one hand on the ground and swung both legs toward my ribs.
I barely managed to jump back.
It was move seventeen, and my breathing grew heavier.
'How the hell is she not struggling with this? She actually has crazy endurance.'
I could feel my arms ache from repeatedly shaping and releasing multiple Cutting Drafts in sequence. Each spell was small, but small did not mean free. Keeping them sharp, fast, and controlled came at a cost; each one burned through my focus and increased my fatigue.
'Oh well, at least I can feel myself improving.'
The first few had been rough, but now they moved cleaner. There was less drag, and each cut had sharper edges.
'My timing's gotten better as well. At this rate, this is only going to end in a draw. She's too physically strong for me to damage at my current state, and her stamina is ridiculous, but the way my casting is exponentially getting better, I'm sure she can't get a clean hit.'
If I were being honest, the very thought of a draw annoyed me.
Not because drawing against Ilya was bad. It wasn't.
She's gotten a lot stronger now, stronger than before.
But still.
A draw isn't a win.
Unfortunately, however.
The moment that thought entered my limited thought space, I made the dumbest mistake possible.
I started deciding the result of the fight before it had even ended.
With move eighteen, I shaped the next Cutting Draft too early. The edge formed half an inch earlier before it was released.
And Ilya saw it.
Her grin vanished.
Her eyes sharpened with laser focus as she burst toward me.
She didn't even try to block the attack, nor did she dodge backwards.
All she did was step into my blind side before my Cutting Draft finished leaving my hand. She slipped beneath my wrist and vanished from in front of me.
My stomach dropped.
'Ah shit.'
A presence emerged behind me.
Then a heel slammed clean into my back.
Ilya did this super-fast, super-unnecessary 180-degree spinning back kick, which hit like a door kicked open by a very angry giant.
My feet left the ground.
The world had spun.
For a brief, humiliating moment, I experienced what it was like to fly, though not of my own volition.
Then I hit the floor face-first roughly twenty yards away and slid another few feet before stopping.
The stone tasted terrible.
And I... simply lay flat on the floor.
Face down.
With my arms spread.
And my dignity nowhere in sight.
'Great. I just got my ass handed to me.'
A tiny pebble rolled near my nose.
'That's what you get for determining the result of a fight before it actually finishes, Ryn.'
Someone walked closer.
Junio's voice came first.
"Congratulations, Ilya. That is the first time you've beaten Ryn."
Ilya made a dismissive sound.
"Nah, that doesn't count. All he did was attack me from afar and use one spell. It doesn't feel like a true win, ya know?"
I groaned and pushed myself up onto my elbows.
"You say that, Ilya, but you didn't even use your giant purple hand thing."
"Magenta."
I clicked my tongue.
"Whatever."
"It is not whatever. Purple and magenta are different."
"My face just had a nice introduction to the floor. Forgive me if intricate differences of colour aren't my immediate priority."
Randel hurried over, hands hovering like he wanted to help but was afraid touching me would make things worse.
"Are you okay?"
"No."
"He's fine," Ilya said cheerfully.
"No, I am not. I feel like shit."
"See? He's complaining, which usually means he's fine."
Unfortunately, that was hard to argue with.
I got up fully and rubbed my jaw.
"Besides, continuing what we were talking about earlier," I said, looking at Ilya. "I can tell you've gotten a lot stronger. You're at Ignis Master now, aren't you?"
Ilya blinked, then scratched the side of her cheek.
"Yeah, but—"
"But only for close-quarters combat," Junio cut in.
We all looked at him.
He said it calmly, too calmly.
Ilya's expression softened a little; a small smile formed.
"Yeah," she said. "I would be at a major disadvantage against someone of the same core as me if we were in open terrain."
For a second, everyone looked at the floor.
The mood shifted awkwardly.
Mainly because she was right.
Ilya was terrifying if she got close enough to apply pressure, but against someone who could keep distance, move freely, trap, and bombard with spells, even being Ignis Master alone wouldn't solve that.
Especially with the upcoming exam looming over us, the presumed terrain didn't suit her current fighting style.
I hated that I understood.
I hated more that I was in the same boat, just reversed.
I could keep someone away until I could not.
Then I got kicked twenty yards and ate stone.
Ilya clapped her hands once.
"Anyway! None of this doom and gloom stuff." She turned sharply. "Yo, Randel! Come on down. It's our turn to spar now!"
Randel went pale.
"Huh?! What?! Why me??"
"Come on! I'll help you with that body shield thing you're working on. You're nearly done with it, right?"
"Well, yes, but—"
"Great!"
Randel looked at her.
Then at the cracked floor.
Then at me, still sitting there with dust on my face, until he snapped back to Ilya again.
"You just want to use me as a punching bag, don't you?"
Ilya laughed.
"Maybe a little."
Randel's expression flattened into the most unimpressed look I had ever seen from him.
I started laughing.
Junio did too, quieter but real enough that I noticed.
Randel sighed with the weight of a man accepting his own funeral.
"Fine. But please avoid the face."
"No promises."
"Ilya."
"Haha, stop worrying, nothing bad's going to happen."
Randel walked toward the centre of the training ground with the posture of someone being led to some kind of public execution.
I dragged myself to the side benches and dropped down with a groan. Junio sat beside me a moment later, calm as always; his hands were folded loosely together as Ilya began circling Randel.
For a while, we watched.
Randel raised his arms; a light blue hue flickered faintly over his skin as he tried to form that body shield he had been working on.
'It's certainly better than last time, less patchy and more complete, although I still think it's too thin around his shoulders and neck area.'
Sadly, it looked like Ilya noticed it, as she poked the weak spot with a jab.
"It may not be perfect, but it certainly has potential to be very useful," Junio said.
I glanced at him.
He was watching the spar with his usual focused, composed expression. His dark blue hair was neat, his eyes calm, and his back straight, his posture seamlessly perfect, like a noble's.
Junio always had this look, as if someone had placed him in a room and already known exactly where he belonged.
That was the part of Junio that made him feel strange.
"So," Junio said, suddenly, "how has your day been?"
I looked at him in confusion.
"My day?"
"Yes, your day."
"Well, I just got kicked across the training ground, so not great."
"Before that?"
"Uh... less airborne, I guess."
Junio smiled faintly.
"And Academy life? How's the adjustment been?"
I narrowed my eyes slightly, in suspicion.
"Why are you asking that like a concerned uncle?"
"I didn't mean to."
"Well, stop, because you're sounding like one."
"My apologies."
I leaned back against the bench, not letting my suspicion drop.
Don't get me wrong, it's not like Junio and I are enemies; we even trained together a couple of times, and we would talk whenever we met up as a group. Hell, we even shared a table in the cafeteria so we commoners wouldn't get picked on by certain annoying nobles who were always looking for trouble.
But close friends?
No chance.
I mean... he's usually polite, quiet, and a little distant, not like Randel, who worries about everything, or Ilya, who approaches every situation by punching it in the face.
He's certainly not like Kael, not that there would ever be someone as similar to that guy.
'I wonder what he's doing now? Probably something overcomplicated as usual, I bet."
Junio was... well, he was just there.
He was present.
A calm presence.
Slightly off in a way I could never fully explain.
But he didn't seem to have any ill intentions.
"So," Junio continued, "are you worried about the Island Exam?"
I looked at him more carefully.
"What's with all the questions?"
He blinked.
"Nothing. I was simply asking."
"Right."
An awkward silence formed between us.
On the training ground, Ilya's fist bounced off Randel's half-formed shield and sent him sliding backwards with a panicked yelp.
"I said avoid the face!"
"I did!"
"Then why is your fist constantly head height?!"
Junio watched them for a moment.
I watched him.
And somewhere in that silence, I realised something annoying.
I had never actually sat with Junio like this.
Just the two of us.