Later that afternoon, after the last bell rang, the training hall was empty except for one person.
Lyselle Snow stood at the center of the arena, arms behind her back, posture straight as a blade. The white light from the ceiling lamps reflected off the cold steel floor, giving the whole room a quiet, dangerous atmosphere.
Zayle stepped inside and immediately felt the air pressure drop.
It wasn't fear.It was Lyselle.
"Cross," she said without turning."You're late."
Zayle blinked."I'm… two minutes early."
"Exactly," she replied."You should already be standing here two minutes ago."
There was no winning with her.
He walked forward anyway.
"You called me?"
Lyselle finally faced him. Her expression was calm, but her eyes scanned him the way a doctor might examine a corpse with mild curiosity.
"I reviewed your combat drills from the past week," she said."Your footwork is inconsistent. Your reaction timing fluctuates. And your sword grip changes depending on how annoyed you are."
"That's… very accurate," Zayle admitted.
"So before you enter the Rift Forest, I need to determine whether you can at least survive a basic encounter."
Zayle raised an eyebrow."A test?"
"A beating," she corrected.
He didn't get time to react.
A shadow flashed.
Something cold touched his neck.
Zayle stiffened.
Lyselle's wooden practice sword rested lightly against his skin.
She had moved behind him without a sound.
"Reaction speed: too slow," she said.
Before he could open his mouth, she vanished again.
Zayle ducked on instinct.
A second later, the sword grazed the air where his head had been.
He blocked the next strike clumsily with his own weapon, boots sliding back on the metal floor.
The impact numbed his hands.
"Ow— okay, okay, I get it—!"
"No. You don't."
She moved again, sharp and precise.To her, this was a warm-up.To him, it felt like last breaths.
But Zayle wasn't entirely helpless.His system reacted to pressure, and even though it was broken, some instincts still kicked in.
He stepped back, regained footing, and forced his focus to sharpen.
Lyselle's strikes came from impossible angles, but Zayle gradually caught glimpses—her shoulder shift, the faint movement of her boots, the way her breathing slowed before she attacked.
For a moment, he thought he saw her… pattern.
He parried one strike.
Then another.
Then a third—barely.
Lyselle's eyes narrowed.
"Your numbers are higher than they look," she said flatly."Yet they still don't explain how your instincts jump like this."
Zayle winced."My… instincts are allergic to dying, maybe."
She ignored the joke.
Her sword pressed against his guard.
"Last exchange," she said."Strike me."
Zayle blinked."Are you sure? Because last time I—"
"I said strike."
"Okay, okay. Just don't kill me if I accidentally—"
"Strike."
Zayle inhaled.
Gripped his sword.
And moved.
He used everything Lyselle had forced out of him—footwork she criticized, timing she mocked, angles she corrected. He swung faster, sharper than he had all week.
For a split second, the tip of his sword approached her shoulder.
He wasn't fast enough to hit her.
But he was fast enough for her eyes to narrow ever so slightly.
A small sound clicked.Almost like approval.
Then she tapped his forehead with the wooden sword, and he fell flat on his back.
"Assessment complete," she said.
"Is that… good?" Zayle groaned.
"It means," she said, turning away,"you are unpolished, unpredictable, impossible to evaluate with normal standards…"
She paused.
"…and suitable for my training."
Zayle lay on the ground, staring at the ceiling.
"Why does that sound like a death sentence?"
"It is."
"Oh."
Lyselle walked toward the exit.
"Your team assignment begins tomorrow morning. I don't expect you to lead. I only expect you to not fall behind."
She stopped by the door.
"And Cross..."
Zayle propped himself on his elbows.
"Yeah?"
Her voice was calm, almost quiet.
"Do not die. I dislike replacing students."
Then she left.
Zayle exhaled.
"…She really cares in the most terrifying way possible."
He stood up, still trembling, but a little stronger than before.
Tomorrow would be his first mission outside the academy walls.
And somehow, he didn't feel scared.
Just… slightly annoyed.And maybe a little excited.