Chapter 2: Sparring Times
Dred circled Synoh, cracking his knuckles again as his magic began to stir. "You're awfully calm for someone who's about to eat dirt."
Synoh didn't flinch. His calm gaze, that same faint smile—none of it wavered. Dred gritted his teeth.
"You think this is a joke?"
Still smiling, Synoh suddenly chuckled, his thoughts drifting for a moment. Yeah… it really is the same.
A brief flash crossed his mind—a younger Synoh and Fel, both on their knees, bruised and exhausted. Before them stood Synix, yelling with fury. The man's roar echoed in Synoh's head: "You think a battlefield is a game? One mistake can cost lives! Run ten laps, both of you—without mana!"
Fel groaned in the memory. "Why is he always so scary?!"
Back in the present, Synoh let out a nostalgic laugh. "It really is the same… right, Fel?"
"What the hell are you babbling about?" Dred scowled.
But in that moment—Synoh's hand darkened, veins of shadowy mana dancing around his fist.
Dred's eyes widened slightly, then grinned. "So you've got something after all…"
He slammed his own fist into his palm—his knuckles encased in swirling drill-like energy, his signature magic.
Without another word, they both charged.
Clash!
Synoh dodged the first strike with precise footwork, his cloak fluttering. He countered with a spinning kick, which Dred barely deflected. The air cracked with each blow. They exchanged attacks with speed and ferocity, drawing cheers and gasps from the recruits watching.
But amidst the flurry, Vice Captain Ursa narrowed her eyes.
"…Wait a second," she muttered.
"What is it?" asked Meth, glancing over.
"Look," said Aloy, pointing. "He's… not even looking."
Indeed, Synoh's eyes were closed.
Yet he moved with perfect rhythm—evading every strike, slipping through Dred's defenses like water through cracks.
Dred was panting now, frustrated but thrilled. "You're good… but let's see how long you can dance like that!"
Then—
Synoh's eyes snapped open.
Dark mana surged in his fist.
With a flash of motion and a sly grin, he drove his punch straight into Dred's stomach.
Boom!
Dred flew back, skidding across the ground before rolling to a stop, coughing but grinning like a maniac.
"Tch… damn… you got me good…"
He tried to stand again, fists still trembling with magic—but a sudden voice rang out.
"That's enough."
Captain Elara's voice cut through the air like a blade.
She stepped forward, her arms crossed. "Any more and you'll wreck the training ground. Save that fire for the battlefield."
Dred lowered his hands reluctantly, nodding. Synoh exhaled and stepped back, bowing slightly.
Elara glanced at him—eyes sharp, but a small smile flickered at the edge of her lips.
"Interesting," she thought. He's not just cocky. He's holding back.
Dred stood up, brushing off the dust from his uniform, his jaw tight and eyes stormy.
"I'm not done," he muttered under his breath.
But Captain Elara's glare froze him mid-step. "That's an order, Dred."
"Tch…" Dred clenched his fists but nodded. "Yes, Captain."
As he walked away, Meth crossed her arms, glancing at him. "You do realize he wasn't even serious, right?"
Aloy leaned on his spear. "Yeah… Synoh never even looked at you. His eyes were closed most of the fight."
Dred stopped in his tracks, the words sinking deep. His frustration only grew—but it wasn't anger now. It was something else.
Determination.
Meanwhile, the new recruits gathered, murmuring in awe after Synoh's display. Many of them had assumed the seniors would be easy to challenge after that match—but reality hit hard.
Only a handful of recruits actually won their sparring matches.
The rest? Bruised, humbled, and wide-eyed.
Captain Elara watched from above with her usual stern look, but her tone softened as she spoke.
"That's enough for today. You've earned your rest. Go ahead, celebrate."
Cheers erupted from the recruits, their fatigue momentarily forgotten.
"But don't get too comfortable," Elara added, raising her voice again. "This was just sparring. No weapons. No mana bursts. Next time…" She smirked, eyes sharp as a blade. "We'll be using everything you've got."
The recruits quieted slightly, nodding with mixed excitement and dread.
She turned, facing all of them now.
"But first, we've got work to do. Division 10's mission begins tomorrow. Pack your gear."
"We march at dawn."