"Begin."
The word fell, and the distance between them disappeared instantly.
Leo barely had time to react.
The opponent moved first.
Not fast in a flashy way.
Not aggressive.
But efficient.
A single step forward—clean, controlled—and the wooden weapon came down.
Leo raised his arms instinctively.
Too late.
Thud.
The impact rang through his bones.
Pain shot up his arms, sharp and immediate. His grip faltered, his stance broke, and he stumbled backward, barely managing to stay on his feet.
He hadn't even seen it properly.
The second strike came before he could recover.
This time from the side.
Leo tried to move.
Tried to react.
But his body lagged behind his thoughts.
Crack.
The blow landed against his ribs.
Air left his lungs instantly.
His vision shook as he staggered again, his legs struggling to find balance.
Around them, the silence deepened.
No one spoke.
No one interrupted.
They were watching.
Watching something obvious unfold.
Leo forced himself to breathe.
It didn't work properly.
Each inhale came broken, incomplete.
The opponent didn't rush.
He stepped back slightly, observing.
Waiting.
Leo realized it then.
He wasn't being attacked recklessly.
He was being measured.
Tested.
The opponent tilted his head slightly.
"…You're slower than I expected," he said calmly.
There was no mockery in his voice.
No arrogance.
Just a statement.
Leo tightened his grip on the wooden weapon.
His hands trembled slightly.
His body hadn't recovered from the run.
His legs still felt heavy.
His breathing unstable.
Everything about him was unprepared.
And yet—
the fight had already started.
The opponent moved again.
This time Leo saw it coming.
Barely.
He raised his weapon.
Too early.
The opponent adjusted mid-motion.
The strike changed direction.
Thud.
The impact hit his shoulder instead.
Leo winced as pain spread instantly, his arm weakening under the force. His weapon slipped slightly from his grip.
He stumbled backward again.
Each step less stable than the last.
"…You're not even holding your stance," the opponent said, almost thoughtfully.
Leo didn't reply.
He couldn't.
His focus was already breaking.
His body was falling apart faster than he expected.
Another step forward from the opponent.
Another strike.
Leo tried to block again.
This time he succeeded—
barely.
The wooden weapons clashed.
But the force behind it pushed Leo backward instantly.
His feet slid across the ground.
His balance broke completely.
He fell.
Hard.
The impact knocked what little air remained out of him.
For a moment—
everything went quiet.
Not around him.
Inside him.
His vision blurred.
His body refused to respond.
He lay there, staring upward, his chest rising and falling in uneven, desperate attempts to breathe.
This is it.
The thought came suddenly.
Not dramatic.
Not emotional.
Just… simple.
I can't do this.
It wasn't frustration.
It wasn't anger.
It was understanding.
The gap between them wasn't something effort could close right now.
It wasn't even close.
A shadow fell over him.
The opponent stood above him, looking down.
"…Get up."
The voice was calm.
Unchanging.
Leo's fingers twitched against the ground.
His body didn't move.
"…If you stay down, it ends like this," the opponent continued.
Leo closed his eyes for a brief moment.
His entire body hurt.
His arms.
His ribs.
His legs.
Even breathing felt like effort.
Everything told him the same thing.
Stop.
You've done enough.
This is your limit.
His fingers tightened slightly.
Digging into the dirt.
For a moment, he stayed there.
Still.
Quiet.
Then—
slowly—
he pushed.
His arms trembled violently as he forced his body upward.
Pain shot through him instantly.
His legs nearly gave out again.
But he stood.
Unsteady.
Barely holding himself upright.
But standing.
A faint shift passed through the watching trainees.
Not loud.
Not obvious.
But noticeable.
The opponent looked at him again.
This time—
with a little more focus.
"…Why?" he asked.
Leo didn't understand.
"…You can't win," the opponent continued.
"Your body's already failing."
"Your movements are slow."
"Your defense is weak."
He paused.
"…So why are you still standing?"
Leo opened his mouth slightly.
No words came out.
Not because he didn't have an answer—
but because he didn't know how to say it.
He didn't want to win.
He didn't expect to win.
He didn't even think about winning.
He just—
didn't want to fall again.
That was all.
His grip tightened around the weapon.
Not steady.
Not strong.
But real.
The opponent exhaled lightly.
"…Fine."
This time—
he moved faster.
The next strike came sharper.
More direct.
Leo saw it—
and reacted.
Late.
But not as late as before.
He shifted slightly instead of blocking directly.
The strike grazed him instead of landing fully.
Pain still came.
But less.
The opponent paused for a fraction of a second.
Something changed.
Small.
Almost unnoticeable.
Leo didn't realize it.
He only knew one thing—
he was still standing.
Another strike.
Leo moved again.
Still slow.
Still imperfect.
But—
not the same.
Not completely helpless.
The gap was still there.
Still massive.
But something—
barely—
had shifted.
From the edge of the field, Kael watched silently.
His expression didn't change.
But his gaze sharpened slightly.
"…Interesting."
The word was quiet.
Almost lost in the silence.
The fight continued.
Leo was hit again.
And again.
Each impact heavier than the last.
His body couldn't keep up.
His movements broke down.
His balance collapsed once more.
Finally—
he fell.
This time—
he didn't get up immediately.
His body lay still.
His breathing shallow.
His strength gone.
The opponent lowered his weapon slightly.
The silence stretched.
Then—
Kael's voice echoed.
"Enough."
The word ended it.
Just like that.
The pressure disappeared.
The fight was over.
Leo lay there, staring at nothing.
He didn't feel victory.
He didn't feel defeat.
He didn't feel anything clearly.
Just exhaustion.
Pure.
Complete.
The opponent stepped back.
"…You're weak," he said.
A pause.
"…But not empty."
Then he turned and walked away.
Leo didn't move.
Couldn't.
Footsteps approached.
Kael stopped near him.
Looking down.
For a long moment—
he said nothing.
Then—
"…You lost."
Leo's fingers twitched slightly.
"…But you didn't stop."
Another pause.
"…That matters."
Leo didn't fully understand those words.
But they stayed.
Somewhere.
Deep.
Then Kael turned away.
"Next."
Just like that—
everything moved on.
Leo remained on the ground for a moment longer.
His body refused to respond.
But slowly—
he forced himself to breathe.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
His vision steadied slightly.
The noise of the training ground returned.
Faint.
Distant.
But real.
He hadn't won.
He hadn't proven anything.
He hadn't changed.
And yet—
something felt… different.
Not stronger.
Not better.
Just—
not the same as before.