Akira still kneeling on the dirt, chest rising and falling like he'd just crawled out of a battlefield.
"Training resumes tomorrow. Same time." said Raizen.
No praise.No explanation.Just that.
Sebastian helped Akira stand — not out of kindness, but because Akira's legs refused to cooperate. They made it to his room, where his body collapsed onto the bed before thought could catch up.
He didn't dream.
Pain was enough company.
…
The next morning arrived too quickly.
His body protested every movement — but he stood anyway.
The training field was exactly the same. Bow. Dust. Sunlight that felt like punishment.
But one thing was different.
Five discs now floated across the field — spaced apart and varying in distance. They drifted lazily left and right… even with no arrows flying.
Akira's stomach twisted.
So the trick changed.
Raizen spoke without looking at him:
"Five shots. Five hits."
Akira forced a breath.Okay. Harder. But the principle was the same.
He nocked an arrow.He waited.He tracked the nearest target's rhythm.
Thwip—
The target stopped moving — for just a heartbeat — letting the arrow fly past where it should have been.
A perfect anti-dodge.
Akira froze.
It wasn't reacting anymore.
It was thinking.
Raizen's voice cut the air like steel:
"You learned yesterday's test."His eyes barely shifted toward Akira."So today's is different."
Akira swallowed hard.
He aimed again — this time at a farther target.
Thwip—
It dipped low at the last second.
Not random.Not reactionary.Intentional misdirection.
He felt his pulse spike.
They're learning from me.
He tried three more times — adapting, calculating.
Every time he adjusted for the movement…the discs did the opposite.
Mocking his confidence.Punishing his assumptions.
His breathing turned ragged.
Yesterday, he thought he'd figured it out.Now the rules were rewritten.
Raizen didn't even glance at him.
"Hit all five," he said. "Then you may rest."
Akira's hands trembled around the bowstring.
So the real test wasn't the moving targets…It was adapting to a world that refuses to stay the same.
He dug his heels into the ground..
He pulled the bowstring back again — every muscle screaming — and locked his eyes onto the closest disc.
Time slowed.
His instincts said it would dodge right.
So he aimed left.
Thwip—
The target darted right anyway, as if it had read his mind.
His jaw clenched.
But his resolve didn't crack.
He nocked another arrow.
And he kept going.
Again.
Again.
Failure piling like stones on his shoulders.
Akira lowered his bow.
Began to think.
There was a pattern. There had to be.
He tracked the nearest disc with his eyes… back and forth… the same curve… the same hesitation before it shifted direction.
"It's not reacting to the arrow…" he muttered, breathing steadily."It's reacting to the threat of the arrow."
If he fired where it wanted to run…
He could corner it.
He nocked three arrows at once — his shoulders screaming from the strain.
Left.Right.Center.
He fired—
Thwip-thwip-thwip—
The disc jolted left — an arrow already waited.It jerked right — another blocked its escape.It froze a split-second too long—
The center arrow struck home.
A clean bullseye.
The disc sparked and fell, motionless.
Akira's tired face twitched into a faint, stubborn grin.
One down.
Raizen didn't speak.Didn't praise.Didn't even look impressed.
But his aura shifted — barely — like a silent acknowledgment:
Good. You learned.
Akira tightened his grip.
Four more discs hovered, shifting, daring him to try again.
And for the first time today…
He felt ready.
He repeated the strategy.
Not easily.Not cleanly.
Each target forced him to adapt — different spacing, different angles, different timing. His fingers bled again. His arms shook. His legs nearly buckled more than once.
But by sunset…
THUD.
The final disc split dead-center.
Five out of five.
All hit.
Akira lowered his bow silently, chest rising and falling with controlled breath.
Raizen turned away.
No congratulations.No acknowledgement.
Just dismissal.
He stayed on the field a moment longer, staring at the empty targets. Despite having completed the trial, one thought gnawed at him: he knew almost nothing about this world. Only scraps of information the king had mentioned when he was first summoned.
he turned to Sebastian. "Take me to the library," he said, voice calm but firm. He offered no explanation, no questions — only the decision.
Sebastian merely nodded and led the way.
Soon, they entered the vast library.
"Where are the history books?" he asked.
Sebastian guided him to a secluded section where he found a book named Chronicles of the Five Kingdoms. Akira pulled down the thick, dust-dusted tome, flipping it open.