Ash didn't stop until he was standing in front of his next class.
Neither did Elysia.
She followed, her presence a quiet shadow at his back. The space between them felt oddly charged, like an invisible thread pulling taut—fragile, trembling.
His steps were steady.
Hers were hesitant.
She wasn't sure why she kept following.
There was no reason.
And yet, she couldn't stop.
Her red eyes traced his back, as if trying to find something—some proof, some sign that he was the person she had lost.
But he never turned.
Never spared her even a glance.
Her fingers twitched at her sides, curling slightly. A weight settled in her chest, pressing down—heavy, unfamiliar.
Maybe… he's not him.
Maybe I just miss him so much that I'm imagining things…
The resemblance was uncanny, but was that all it was? A cruel trick of fate?
Her fingers curled slightly, her gaze dropping for a moment. The ache in her heart didn't fade, settling instead into something hollow, something that gnawed at the edges of her thoughts.
A gust of wind swept past, tousling her silver hair, but the chill that ran down her spine had nothing to do with the cold.
She forced herself to take a deep breath.
Then another.
And still, she followed.
Meanwhile, Ash—
A slow, controlled breath filled his lungs, pushing back the turmoil clawing at his ribs.
His mind had been on the brink—one step too close to unraveling.
At the very last moment, the Rune of Stability had activated, cooling the raging storm inside his mind.
If it hadn't—
His grip tightened, nails pressing faint crescents into his palm.
A fraction of a second too slow, and—
I might have turned.
And then—
Everything would have fallen apart.
His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking as he shoved his emotions deep where they couldn't reach him.
With a final push, he stepped forward, pushing open the doors to his next class—
[Swordsmanship & Combat Arts].
The heavy doors creaked open, revealing a vast stadium-like training hall.
**
The scent of steel and sweat hung thick in the air.
The training hall stretched wide, structured like an open-stadium arena, with high ceilings that loomed above.
Floating mana lights cast a sterile glow over the polished floors, their cold light reflecting off the gleaming racks of weapons lining the far walls.
Swords, spears, daggers—all waiting, each with a quiet promise of violence.
The ground itself bore scars of countless battles, faint scratches and dents marring the otherwise pristine surface.
Footsteps echoed in the vast space, merging with the distant hum of mana-infused air.
Students had already begun to gather in the center, their quiet murmurs blending with the subtle weight of anticipation.
Ash's gaze flicked over them briefly before shifting away. He had no interest in their presence.
His mind, however, was elsewhere.
If she is Nancy, then why does she have the same affinity as in the novel?
Did their souls fuse?
Or…
A muscle in his jaw tightened.
No. That shouldn't be possible.
His gaze flickered to the side—she was still following.
Of course, she was.
His fingers twitched again, but this time, he shoved his hands into his pockets, forcing himself to stay still.
His thoughts wouldn't stop.
She had Blade Dancer class—a path of fluidity and destruction. Eventually, she would wield twin blades, dancing through the battlefield like a silver storm.
It suited her.
Almost too well.
A bitter chuckle nearly surfaced, but he forced it back.
He let out a breath, slow and controlled.
Now that he knew—now that there was no doubt—
The weight of responsibility settled over him like an unshakable force.
And now that I know she's really Nancy… I have to protect her.
Fuck The world and fuck The Protagonist. If the so-called plot threatened to harm her, I swear I'll—
Before he could finish that thought—
A voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Hey."
Ash blinked.
Ray stood before him, a relaxed grin on his face.
"I asked the worker," Ray said, casually rubbing the back of his neck. "The teacher was really looking for me. She took me to the principal."
His grin widened. "And guess what? He took me as his disciple."
Ash's expression remained blank.
But inwardly—
…What the fuck!!
My excuse actually worked?
And he became the principal's disciple already?!
Looks like the plot has moved forward.
Still, he forced a polite smile. "Oh? I guess congratulations, then."
Just go away. I'm in no mood to talk.
Ray shrugged. "It's fine. Thanks, though."
Then, before Ash could relax—Ray moved past him.
Heading straight toward Elysia.
A strange feeling clawed at Ash's throat, drying his mouth.
His jaw tightened, a shadow darkening his thoughts.
It was different before.
Because I didn't know.
But now I do.
Now that he knew Elysia was Nancy—his Nancy—how the hell was he supposed to ignore it?
His fingers twitched at his sides, itching to grab something—Ray's neck, Ray's collar, anything to release the frustration simmering beneath his skin.
Elysia was someone precious to him, whether he admitted it or not.
If something were to happen in the future—if enemies discovered their connection—she would be the first target.
And if that day ever came…
If he was too weak to stop it—
The thought alone made his fingers clench. His heartbeat slowed, his mind sharpening into cold focus.
No. I won't let that happen.
If staying away from her keeps her safe, then so be it.
And yet—
His eyes flickered to Ray, watching him close the distance between them. His easy-going stride, his relaxed expression—completely unaware of the danger he attracted like a fucking magnet.
Ray wasn't the problem.
The issue was that Elysia was too kind, too trusting.
She wouldn't push him away.
And the more she stayed around him, the more risk she'd be in.
Ash clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms.
Even though he told himself to stay out of it—
Even though he knew better—
For the first time in two lifetimes—
Ash felt an urge to kill.
It wasn't just possessiveness.
It was something deeper.
Something primal.
Something that whispered—mine.
His hand moved before his mind could process it.
Just as Ray was about to brush past, Ash stopped him with a firm grip.
Ray frowned, turning his head slightly, eyes narrowing. "What?"
Ash didn't blink. His voice was low, controlled. "Where are you going?"
Ray's frown deepened. "What do you mean?"
Ash held his gaze, his expression unreadable, but there was something in the way he stood—something rigid, tense.
"Why did you come to the academy?"
Ray's brows knitted together, confusion flickering across his face. "What—"
"Focus on what you're here for." Ash's voice dipped, quieter now, but sharper. A warning wrapped in neutrality. "It'll be better for you."
Then, just as he was about to say it—
Stay away from her.
A sudden shift in the air cut him off.
It was instant.
Like a wave crashing down, an unseen pressure settled over the room.
The air thickened—not with magic, but with something raw, something commanding. It pressed down on every inch of space, pulling eyes, forcing attention.
A presence.
A force that didn't need to demand respect—because it already had it.
Silence swallowed the room.
Every head turned.
A man strode in.
His movements were precise, deliberate—each step carrying an unshakable weight.
He didn't need to speak.
His presence alone was enough.
Instructor Leonard.
A Retired Legendary Rank Hunter.
His posture was straight, his expression carved from steel. His combat tunic, sleeveless and practical, exposed arms lined with scars—each one a history of battles fought and survived.
A quiet scoff broke the silence.
Ray stepped back, hands slipping into his pockets. "Whatever."
And walked away.
Ash exhaled quietly.
But Elysia—
She had noticed.
Her gaze burned into his side, filled with unspoken questions.
"Form a line."
Instructor Leonard's voice sliced through the air—cold and authoritative—disrupting her thoughts.
No one dared to disobey.
Once the students assembled, his sharp eyes swept over them.
"Before we begin, you will all change into your standard training uniforms."
With a flick of his hand, a rack appeared—rows of neatly folded uniforms materializing from thin air.
"The changing rooms are that way. You have five minutes."
No one hesitated.
The students shifted, murmuring quietly as they eyed the uniforms.
But Ash?
He was already moving.
**
Five Minutes Later—
The air had changed.
Tension had melted into anticipation.
Students returned from the changing rooms, clad in their new uniforms.
The fit was snug—crafted for movement. The material was resilient yet flexible, enhancing mobility while offering protection.
But beyond that—
It exposed the difference between the trained and the untrained.
The uniform highlighted posture, strength, and control. The effortless power in some, the rigid inexperience in others.
Then—
The female students returned.
Silence fell.
Some boys averted their gazes, trying—and failing—to be discreet.
A few swallowed audibly.
The uniforms, though practical, fit just as closely to them as they did the male students.
And among them some stood out—
Melissia, Grace, Lyra and.....Elysia.
Ash's brows twitched.
The uniform clung to them like a second skin, accentuating their long legs and toned physiques.
The way their colorful hair cascaded down their backs only made them look even more ethereal.
And worst of all—
Every.
Single.
Guy.
Was.
Staring.
Ash's fingers curled into fists.
Fucking hell.
His irritation spiked, but his face remained blank.
His fingers curled slightly.
Not in anger.
Not in jealousy.
But in annoyance.
They could be more discreet.
He knew it wasn't their fault. It was human nature to notice beauty, just as it was natural for Elysia and the others to stand out.
But respect should always come before admiration.
His eyes flicked to some guys whose stares lingered too long.
He committed all their faces in his memory.
His thoughts were interrupted as Instructor Leonard's voice cut through the tense atmosphere.
"The combat outfit is made from a special fabric infused with mana-conductive metal," Leonard stated.
"They are built for training. By supplying a little mana, you can increase the weight upon your body."
His gaze swept across the room.
"You can use them until you reach Legendary Rank. The weight adjustment makes them excellent for conditioning."
Ash's mind clicked.
These will be useful for my training.
"They're primarily designed for warriors, but today, everyone will be using them."
Leonard didn't wait.
"Pair up for sparring."
The arena shifted.
The smooth, polished flooring reshaped itself. Segmented sparring zones formed, each enclosed within mana barriers.
It was a well-structured system.
No wasted space. No unnecessary movement outside the designated areas.
Students immediately sought out partners—some aligning with friends, others scanning for worthy opponents.
Ash remained still.
His sharp gaze moved across the room.
Who should I choose?
***
A/N: Alright, listen up, you little gremlins! 😤 Y'all keep screaming for more chapters, but do you even realize how much my keyboard is suffering?! 😭
If you want to fuel my writing addiction (and maybe stop me from selling my soul), hop into the Discord! We can cry, theorize, and roast Ash together. And if you're feeling extra generous, Patreon exists too—where you can hoard extra chapters like a true villain. 😏
Now, go! Before I change my mind and start writing filler episodes. 💀
…And don't be angry, okay? I love you guys. (Mostly.) 🥲❤️