Orin Alpheratz (15 years old) Location: Solaris   Date: Year 873 / Pegasus Cycle (1) / Emperor's Day (4)

"ACTIVATE KNIGHT SKILL: Total Defense!" Orin declared aloud.

In an instant, the shield in his hand glowed faintly, and several ghostly replicas of it shimmered into existence around him, hovering in a rotating formation. Each one moved as if guided by invisible hands, forming a protective barrier from every angle.

Professor Schedar stepped closer and rapped his knuckles against one of the ghostly shields.

“Not bad,” he said, nodding with approval.

“This technique...” the professor began, turning back to the class, “takes an entire year to master at the military academy. But here, we spend only half that time. Can someone tell Orin why?”

A boy near the back of the room raised his hand, then called out confidently, “Because at Solaris Academy, we learn two shield skills in our first year, not just one!”

“Correct,” Schedar said with a satisfied smile. “And thanks to the power of summoning, the number of skills you can learn will increase dramatically. In fact, it's even possible to learn skills outside your class, like those of warriors or archers, if you have the will for it.”

Two skills...

Orin felt a flicker of disbelief. He had poured everything into mastering Total Defense over the course of an entire year. Here, students were expected to learn twice that in just 7.5 cycles, half a Theria year.

The gap between Solaris and the military academy was already beginning to show.

“The world of physical skills,” the professor continued, pacing the front of the classroom, “is broader than most imagine. Broader, more refined, and deeper, yes, even deeper than magic. It's not uncommon for people to awaken skills innately, and some talented individuals even develop their own unique techniques. It's a vast frontier, waiting to be explored.”

He smiled again, this time with a spark of anticipation in his eyes.

“And now that Orin has joined us, it's time for your first sword skill. He'll have the honor of being the first to attempt it.”

Professor Schedar walked over to the far end of the room and returned with a training sword. Lifting it to the height of his head, he announced with firm clarity:

“ACTIVATE KNIGHT SKILL: Solar Sword!”

At once, the blade blazed with radiant light, casting a golden glow across the room.

“If you perform it properly, it should shine exactly like this, no more, no less. And remember,” he added, glancing sidelong at Orin, “you'll have just seven cycles to learn this skill.”

He laid the sword down on a desk.

But Orin wasn't listening anymore.

His thoughts drifted, no, raced to memories of home. He had seen this technique before. Dozens of times. His father had mastered it, performed it with grace and power, again and again.

It was engraved in his memory.

Moved by instinct, Orin stepped forward. He picked up the training sword, his grip steady. The words formed on his lips without hesitation.

“ACTIVATE KNIGHT SKILL: Solar Sword!”

A surge of power rushed through him.

And in the next moment, the entire room was consumed by a blinding flash of light.

It lasted only a few seconds, but when everything returned to normal, Orin, and the rest of the class, were still struggling to see properly. Their vision was blurred, spots of light dancing in front of their eyes.

“Impressive raw power,” came the voice of Professor Schedar, distorted slightly by the haze. “But without the necessary control, a skill like that becomes a double-edged sword.”

Orin could barely make out the professor's silhouette, still hidden behind the afterimage.

“For now, I need everyone to leave the classroom, the residual energy from the blast is still active.”

One by one, the students shuffled out, bumping into desks, walls, and each other as they stumbled toward the door, shielding their eyes.

Orin was one of the last to move. As he passed by the professor, he stopped and tried to speak.

“Sorry, Professor... Something in me just exploded the moment I picked up the sword and recited the chant.”

Though he couldn't see him clearly, he heard Schedar's voice soften slightly.

“Don't worry about it for now. You'll learn to control it with time. Still, I must say... you seem to have a much stronger affinity for the sword than the shield. But we'll talk about that later. Go on now, if you stay any longer, your eyes might start to burn.”

Orin nodded quietly and stepped outside.

As the fresh air hit his face, his vision slowly began to return. But just as he tried to rejoin the group, a hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him aside.

He turned, blinking as the blur began to clear, and saw Hector.

“Orin,” Hector said, his voice steady but grave. “I'm glad to see you're walking the same path as your father... but there's something I need to know.”

Orin tensed. “I don't owe you any answers. Leave me alone.”

He turned to go, but Hector's grip tightened.

“I know everything,” Hector said calmly. “You still believe the princess's disappearance was our fault... and now, you've come here looking for Huxley.”

Orin froze. His eyes widened, the breath caught in his throat.

How does he know that...?

Once everyone had recovered and returned to the classroom, the lesson resumed. Professor Schedar continued instructing them on the Solar Sword skill, but Orin found it hard to focus, Hector's words kept echoing in his mind.

How could Hector possibly know? After all this time, how did he find out about Orin's intentions to pursue Huxley, the only lead he had regarding the princess's disappearance?

A sharp voice pulled Orin from his wandering thoughts.

“Now then,” boomed Professor Schedar, arms behind his back and a sly glint in his eye, “it's time for a bit of sparring between students.”

The room stilled.

“I imagine everyone's dying to see what our transfer has to offer,” he continued. “So, Orin, come forward.”

Orin stood, trying to will away the tension clenching in his chest. He approached the center of the training hall, his boots echoing faintly on the polished stone. The attention of the room clung to him like static.

Professor Schedar's eyes twinkled with mischief. “And as for your opponent...”

A pause, drawn out deliberately.

“...how about we pit him against Perseus Mirfak?”

The reaction was immediate.

Gasps, murmurs, the scraping of chairs. Students glanced at one another with disbelief, some even leaning forward in anticipation.

Orin blinked. The name didn't ring a bell, but clearly, it meant something here.

Then a figure rose from the back row. He moved like a predator, tall and composed, with sharp gray eyes and brown hair tied in a loose ponytail. His uniform was worn just loosely enough to suggest confidence, not carelessness.

Orin glanced at the professor. “Isn't this... a bit much for a first match?”

Schedar chuckled. “Perseus is ranked second among all students this generation, just below Hector, in fact. Don't get too confident, boy.” He turned, tone light but deliberate. “But do think of this as... an academic experiment. I'm curious.”

The two boys stood face to face. A quiet intensity built between them.

Schedar handed them each a training sword and shield. “First round, no Knight Skills,” he said. “Whoever lands a clean hit wins. Simple enough. Ready?”

They nodded.

“Begin.”

The clash began with caution.

Orin was quick to recognize that Perseus's stance was no mere academy formality, it was textbook perfect, and yet somehow alive. He radiated the calm readiness of a seasoned knight, not a student. His shield was positioned with surgical precision, and his weight distribution was faultless.

A defensive duelist, Orin thought. I'll have to probe him.

He feinted to the right, then pivoted sharply left. A trick that worked well back at the military academy.

But Perseus reacted instantly, shield catching the feint, sword intercepting the real blow. In the same motion, he swung his shield forward in a swift counter. Orin barely dodged, stumbling back a step.

He can defend with his blade and strike with his shield. He's built to punish overcommitment. This... won't be easy.

Perseus remained rooted, eyes locked on Orin with unnerving calm. He didn't chase. He waited. Every part of him screamed control.

The battle dragged on, Orin testing angles and rhythm, but nothing pierced the guard.

He was running out of time and breath. A battle of attrition favored Perseus, and they both knew it.

So I'll have to gamble.

With a sudden cry, Orin charged straight at his opponent. The boldness of the move made Perseus brace, locking into his rigid stance.

Orin's sword slammed into the shield, just as planned. The impact threw Orin off balance, and Perseus surged forward to punish the opening.

But Orin twisted mid-air, an acrobatic, almost reckless maneuver, and knocked aside Perseus's strike with his own shield. It flew from his arm, clattering across the floor.

But he didn't need it anymore.

Spinning low, Orin lunged in the space opened by Perseus's overextension, and struck him cleanly in the lower torso.

The room was dead silent.

Then: gasps. Whispered voices. Shock.

“Did he just...?”

“What kind of fighting style was that?”

“I've never seen a knight move like that before.”

Schedar clapped twice, drawing everyone's attention.

“Unconventional,” he said with amusement, “but effective. A win is a win.”

Perseus's expression hardened, his voice low but cutting.

“You call that a sparring match?” He scoffed. “Those movements shouldn't be allowed in an apprentice knight.”

His words fell like a stone in the silence, stirring uneasy glances from the other students. Orin tensed, unsure whether to respond or stay silent.

Professor Schedar stepped in smoothly, raising a hand in calm dismissal. “Now, now. That was only the first round.” He offered a crooked smile. “There's still the second one. This time, with Knight Skills allowed. I daresay this will be the true test for Orin. Let's see if clever footwork is enough against Perseus's real strength.”