Chapter 295 (Patreon)

“I learned it from the advanced class earlier sample,” Suri said, her voice carrying a quiet sort of pride as they walked beneath the fading light of the evening sky. The city gates loomed behind them now, the noise of the streets settling into a distant hum as they made their way back toward the academy. Their business in the dungeon had ended, the horses returned to the underground stable without incident, as if nothing dangerous had happened at all.

All three of them wore hooded cloaks, shadows draping over their faces like a second identity. It wasn’t strictly necessary, not anymore, but it made moving through the city easier. Quieter. People glanced at them, of course—they always did—but no one dared approach. Not with Boris walking beside them, his broad frame and the massive spear slung across his back making him look less like a student and more like a problem waiting to happen.

Suri continued, her hands idly moving as if she were still shaping something unseen. “I took Rune Arts I. I wanted to understand how runes actually work, not just memorize them.”

She glanced upward for a moment, as though replaying the lesson in her mind.

“It’s fascinating,” she went on, her voice gaining energy. “Different stones, different carvings… they influence the mana around them. Not by force, but by guiding it. Like placing a river into a new path without stopping the flow.”

She paused, then gave a small, satisfied nod to herself.

“So I tried to replicate that flow using my own mana,” she said. “What you saw earlier… that barrier—it was designed to reflect the attack to the caster who threw their skill.

Kana walked quietly beside her, listening, but her thoughts lingered on the memory of that moment. The way the fire had turned. The way the mana had obeyed Suri, not violently, but willingly.

It was the kind of control people spent years chasing without ever truly reaching.

Kana exhaled softly, her admiration unhidden. “That’s… not something most people can do.”

She had been told once that manipulating mana was like trying to hold water without a container. It slipped. It resisted. It refused to stay where it was told.

And yet, Suri made it look like shaping glass. Suri lifted a finger, her expression shifting slightly. “There’s a problem, though.”

Kana raised a brow, curious.

“Runes draw mana from the surroundings,” Suri explained. “They’re efficient because they don’t rely on the caster alone.” She tapped her chest lightly. “But mine does. I’m trying now to behave the same way using only my own mana.”

She let out a small sigh.

“It consumes too much. I need to refine it. Adjust the flow so it doesn’t drain me dry in one fight.”

There was a brief silence after that.

Then Boris snorted, “In short,” he said, stretching his arms behind his head as if the conversation itself bored him, “you’re just getting free skills now.”

Thorne, perched comfortably on his shoulder again, made a small noise that almost sounded like agreement.

Kana and Suri blinked.

Then both of them laughed.

“I don’t think you’re allowed to complain about fairness,” Kana said, shaking her head, her eyes flicking toward Boris’s towering frame. “You were born looking like you could wrestle a bear.”

“That’s different,” Boris muttered, though without much conviction.

Kana didn’t miss the irony. If Suri bent mana like it wanted to listen, Boris broke problems because they had no choice.

They walked the rest of the way in a comfortable rhythm, the academy gates soon rising before them like a familiar checkpoint between two worlds. Without hesitation, they lowered their hoods and stepped forward.

No guards stopped them.

No questions were asked.

They simply raised their arms.

The bluish bracelets glinted faintly under the torchlight, marking them as Mythril-class students. Second year. Privileged in ways most others weren’t.

It was one of the few freedoms granted to them—the ability to come and go, even beyond curfew, trusted with responsibilities most students would never be given.

Boris glanced around as they passed through, his brow furrowing slightly.

“Is the academy really okay with this?” he asked. “Letting us wander around in the middle of the night?”

Suri didn’t even look at him.

“Be honest,” she said flatly. “You didn’t read what you signed earlier.”

Boris hesitated.

Do I need to?” he replied. “You were all signing it. I just followed along.”

Suri stopped walking for a moment. Kana did too. Even Thorne turned its tiny head toward him.

Three identical expressions.

Then, slowly, all three of them shook their heads. It was stated on the waver after all that the academy wouldn’t be held responsible if the Mythril classes students were not in the academy’s premises in case some unexpected things happened beyond the classes hours.

Kana couldn’t help it—she laughed, the sound light and unrestrained. Suri followed, covering her mouth as her shoulders shook slightly.

Even Thorne made a small chittering sound, as if it had decided Boris was beyond saving.

And Boris, walking in the middle of it all, could only frown—completely unaware that, somehow, he had lost the argument without even knowing what it was about.

……

Kana drifted through sleep as though she had sunk beneath still water, the world above her muffled and distant. Time lost its edge there. There was no urgency, no weight—only a quiet pull downward, deeper into rest she hadn’t realized she needed.

Something disturbed it. A persistent tug. A shake. Her body responded before her mind did, brows knitting faintly as she resisted the pull upward. Suri’s hands. I

Kana groaned, turning slightly, refusing to open her eyes as if that alone could keep the world away.

“I’m not going today,” she murmured, voice thick and slurred with sleep. “I need rest.”

And she did.

It wasn’t the kind of exhaustion that came from swinging blades or running through dungeons. Her muscles didn’t ache. Her limbs weren’t heavy. Instead, it felt like something inside her—something tied to her mind, her awareness, her very senses—had stretched too far and was now demanding silence in return.

That strange class of hers.

Whatever it was becoming… It wasn't normal.

Suri lingered for a moment, as though deciding whether to argue. But then she sighed, long and resigned.

“Fine,” she said. “Don’t complain later.”

The door opened.

Closed.

And just like that, Kana was alone again.

Sleep reclaimed her almost instantly, wrapping around her thoughts and pulling her under before she could question it.

Time passed.

How much, she didn’t know.

Then—

The shaking returned.

Stronger this time.

Insistent.

Kana frowned, irritation flickering through the haze as she stubbornly clung to the last fragments of sleep.

“I said… I’m not going to class…” she muttered, her voice softer now, barely more than a breath.

Silence answered her.

For a heartbeat.

Two.

Then—

“The class has already ended today.”

Suri’s voice cut through her thoughts, sharp enough to snap something loose.

“And you’re still sleeping here.”

Kana’s eyes opened. Slowly at first, as if the world itself needed a moment to come back into focus. Light crept in, too bright, too present. She blinked against it, pushing herself upright with a sluggish motion.

Her head felt light. She stretched instinctively, arms lifting overhead as a long yawn escaped her. The movement helped. Grounded her.

“Really?” she asked, voice clearer now, though still carrying the remnants of sleep. “That was… a good night’s sleep.”

She tilted her head slightly, frowning in thought.

“Or was that morning sleep?”

Suri didn’t laugh and she didn’t even smile.

Instead, she simply stared at Kana like someone who had given up trying to understand her.

“That’s not why I’m here,” Suri said.

Kana rubbed at her eyes, dragging her thoughts into something resembling order. “Then what is it?”

Suri crossed her arms..

“There’s someone waiting for you,” she said.

Kana paused.

“Waiting?”

“At the training field.”

There was something in Suri’s tone now. Not urgency. Not quite a concern. Something in between.

Kana’s brows drew together faintly.

She watched Kana for a moment, as if gauging whether the answer would matter.

“Hours,” she said finally.

Then, after a brief pause, she added, “Since this morning.”

“And I think…” Suri continued, “…since yesterday.”

That landed.

The last traces of sleep vanished.

Kana straightened slightly, her mind beginning to turn, to search. Faces flickered through her memory—students, adventurers, strangers—but none of them settled into certainty.

No one came to mind.

“Who?” she asked.

Suri raised a brow.

“The western student,” she said. “Joan Clarke.”

The name echoed in Kana’s thoughts like a distant bell.

Once.

Two,

Then it settled.

A memory surfaced—steel, tension, a promise spoken not lightly, but with intent. Joan’s gaze, steady and unyielding, like someone who measured the world in challenges yet to be overcome.

Kana frowned faintly. “I don’t think we’re that close.”

Suri exhaled, the sound carrying a hint of disbelief.

“She’s not waiting because you’re close,” she said. “She’s waiting because you agreed to fight her.”

Kana blinked.

“I don’t remember agreeing—”

“I replied for you, remember?” Suri cut in.

A beat of silence followed.

Kana stared.

Suri met her gaze without flinching, a small, unapologetic smile forming at the corner of her lips.

Kana said,“I said yes.”

Another pause.

Longer this time.

Kana exhaled slowly, the pieces falling into place whether she liked it or not.

“I remember now.”

Of course she did.

Joan wasn’t the kind of person who would wait for nothing. If she was still there—after hours, maybe even since yesterday—then this wasn’t just a duel. It was something she had been holding onto.

Kana swung her legs off the bed and stood, her movements steadier now. The lingering haze of sleep faded with each step she took.

She moved to change her clothes.

Not armor.

Not her usual gear.

Just a simple black dress, light and unrestrictive, the fabric shifting easily with her movements. She strapped a dagger at her side—not the one she trusted most, but enough.

Enough for what this was.

A duel.

Not a battle.

She adjusted the strap slightly, then turned back toward Suri.

“Thanks,” Kana said.

She hesitated for a moment, then added, “You’re not coming?”

Suri leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, her expression unreadable for a second before that familiar smirk returned.

“I could,” she said.

Her eyes flickered with something quiet.

“But I feel bad for Joan.”

Kana didn’t answer.

She simply looked at her for a moment longer, then turned and walked toward the door. As it opened, light spilled into the room once more. This time, Kana didn’t resist it. She stepped forward, leaving Suri behind, and walked toward a duel that had been waiting far longer than she had.Post note: “Finally.” -Joan.

Third chap of the week! Hope you enjoy the chap! 🙂

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