Erik yawned as he slouched over his desk, down below the professor went on, giving their lecture.

  It was about the process of turning your mana into different shapes, but he honestly couldn’t care less about it. What was the point anyway? Erik was far above his classmates from the day he set his foot on this academy, only Aria had a higher proficiency in combat skills than him.

  Even then, he would make sure to surpass her.

  It had been almost two weeks since he had left that dungeon, and he could now feel the repercussions of the failure, not only concerning himself but everyone else.

  There had been rumors of students leaving the academy, and their parents felt it was too unsafe right now. The families of the dead also wanted compensation, answers, and justice. Maybe they would get two of those, but the answers were still far away.

  The adventurer team later reported that the monster's appearance was due to a rare phenomenon that occurs in dungeons. Demons corrupt it, infest it. Only now, one of the six great demons that served the Demon Lord had gotten involved, making the situation much worse.

  It made no sense whatsoever.

  Demons were a thing of the past, Queen Arthur had sealed them in a faraway dimension millennia ago. The seal was made by the holy sword, Excalibur, thus it should have been indestructible.

  That demon had also weirdly talked to Erik. It was like he was an abnormal existence existence. Someone “cursed”. It made no sense to him.

  Erik looked at his hand for a moment, tightening it. It trembled slightly before becoming firm.

  He was still afraid, but that’s why he needed to become stronger. He couldn’t allow more friends to die or suffer like Kyle and everyone else did.

  Everyone always told the boy about his impressive talent, now it was his time to become so strong that no one he cared about would have to suffer.

  “Mister Blake, since you seem so interested in daydreaming during our class, why don’t you come to the front and show how it's done?” The professor angrily suggested.

  The one giving the lecture wasn’t George, the well-spoken professor who made things interesting—it was instead, an old woman who in Erik’s opinion “is a few kilos above what is healthy and gave the most boring explanations”.

  Professor George had been in absence ever since that incident, and honestly, Erik couldn’t blame him. He too had to be dragged by his friends to classes, because he’d rather do something else right now.

  Without giving it much care Erik got up from his chair and went to the front of the class, yawning heavily along the way. He got to the front and did as the professor instructor, without putting any effort or care into it.

  “Can I go now?”

  “Uh… yes, go to your seat,” she answered, clearly appalled by it.

  Without another word, Erik went to his seat and dreamt the whole class.

  An hour later, there he was, at the training grounds. At this time of day, the whole place was deserted—this was good as Erik had it all for himself.

  Erik planted his feet firmly on the ground and swung a blazing punch at the dummy's chest, the fire explosion roaring like thunder. The impact sent vibrations up his arm, but he didn’t stop. Another punch, and then another, each strike accompanied by a grunt as he pushed himself.

  The words of the demon still echoed in his head, haunting him like a nightmare. "You are the cursed one… the one who will plague the world." Erik clenched his jaw as he unleashed another fiery strike, the flames scorching the wood of the dummy.

  This wasn’t enough, he wasn’t enough. He had to become better. He would have to prove the demon wrong.

  He switched his stance, lowering himself slightly and pivoting his back foot. The next punch was faster, stronger. Fire erupted from his gauntlets as the spell [Inferno Strike] took hold, intensifying the heat radiating from his fists. Sweat trickled down his temples, as the flames erupted upon impact, stinging his eyes, but he ignored it. The pain was nothing new.

  Pain was necessary.

  His arms ached, his breath was uneven, and his body felt heavy, the muscles burning from the strain of maintaining such relentless force, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. The image of Kyle’s lifeless body flashed in his mind. Erik’s breathing quickened as he channeled his frustration into another series of strikes, each blow faster and more precise than the last.

  ‘Why wasn’t I strong enough?’

  That question had almost made him lose his mind countless times. Whenever he would sleep, whenever he would stare at the dark or as much as take some time off the training, his mind trailed back to that day.

  He felt so impotent, so weak, so fragile. Erik hated that feeling, he wanted it to end.

  Erik gritted his teeth. The thoughts fogged his mind, he had to clear his focus. Once again, he shifted on his feet, his fist erupted in a roar of flames.

  “[Inferno Strike]—”

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  "Erik! Stop!" a voice cut through the air, startling Erik and shattering his concentration.

  Erik's body tensed. He spun around, looking for the voice, his blazing gauntlet raised defensively. His heart pounded, and his narrowed eyes searched for the source.

  "Hey, calm down! It's just me!" Clara’s familiar voice reached him as she stepped into the training ground, hands raised.

  For a second, Erik’s stance remained rigid, but recognition softened his features. The fire around his gauntlet dimmed, and he let out a shaky breath. "Clara? What are you doing here?" he asked.

  Clara approached, her concerned gaze sweeping over him. "I should be asking you that. Do you even realize how hard you’re pushing yourself? You look like you’re about to collapse."

  Erik glanced at the charred dummy and then down at his trembling hands, aching hands. He hadn’t noticed just how deep he’d sunk into the training until she snapped him out of it. "I’m fine," he muttered, the cold iron of his gauntlets brushing against the sweat.

  Clara frowned but didn’t press further. "You’re going to burn yourself out if you keep this up. Training is important, but so is rest."

  Erik sighed, this would take a while. Because of that, he took the opportunity to sit on the ground, deciding to rest his legs while he could.

  “No… this is quite nothing,” he said, though it was an uneasy statement, he was certain he could handle the effort.

  Maybe it was because he started working since young, or the stress of being a thief or having to cut ties with the gang eventually, but Erik was almost used to this kind of stress. He knew he could overcome it.

  Erik could hear a sigh coming from her before noticing a weird, perhaps nervous, behavior from her. She fidgeted with her fingers slowly, her gaze focused on the ground. Without wasting any time, her cheeks were painted with a faint pink hue. "Erik, um… can I ask you something?"

  Clara wrung her hands together, her voice barely above a whisper. "I was wondering if… if you’d go out with me tomorrow? Since it’s Sunday and we’re allowed to leave the academy… it could be good for uh… to make you stop training," she said, each word her cheeks and ears got redder and redder.

  Erik blinked, confused by why she was proposing this or why it made her feel like that. "Uh, sure? I mean, we hang out all the time with the others, so—"

  "No!" Clara cut him off quickly. She then froze, as her even shouting was extremely uncharacteristic. Groaning softly, she brought her hands to her face. "Not like that! I mean… just us. It’s… a date."

  Erik stared at her, his confusion deepening. "A date?" He glanced down at his sweat-soaked clothes, then back up at her. What did she even mean by this? It's not that Erik didn’t know that kind of thing, it just didn’t make sense why she would ask him that.

  It was the first time he was approached in that way.

  Clara nodded quickly, her face now fully flushed. "Yes, and, um, you should dress well! And maybe… maybe get out of those sweaty clothes first." She looked at him, then quickly away, her voice dropping to a nervous mumble. "It’s just a suggestion."

  Still processing, Erik nodded slowly. "Alright. Sure, Clara," he said, keeping it simple. He guessed it could be fun to see where this goes.

  Her face lit up with a smile, and she looked at him, her eyes almost shining. "Great! I’ll… I’ll see you tomorrow then." She turned and hurried off before Erik could say anything else.

  He stood there for a moment, still trying to wrap his head around what just happened. Finally, he sighed, his legs feeling heavier as he made his way back to his room.

  In his room, Erik sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his wardrobe. He wasn’t sure what “dressing well” even meant for a date. Most of his clothes were practical and plain. He scratched the back of his head, muttering to himself. "Why does this feel harder than training?"

  ‘Maybe I could get Aria or Emilia to help… nah’ he quickly discarded the idea. Despite them being girls, they certainly weren’t conventional. Emilia was lazy, be it on how she acted or how she would dress up, Aria on the other hand was simple. She always wore the academy uniform but from the way they talked, and how she liked fighting he was almost sure she wasn’t one to want to look good either—in a strange way, they were similar.

  He glanced at the gauntlets resting on his desk, still warm from his training session. He picked them up, turning them over in his hands, before setting them down again with a shake of his head. Tomorrow wasn’t about training. It was something… different.

  It made him think deeply, the first time in a while his thoughts weren’t about the dungeon. Did she like him? That made no sense though. They were friends, perhaps good friends, but not that close either. They hang out a lot but it's not like they had known each other for that long—and she wasn’t the type to just flirt for fun.

  Besides, she kinda reminded him of his sister so he felt a need to help her more than anything else.

  This made his head scramble all around, he scratched his hair as it made no sense.

  Erik sighed.

  Whatever this meant, he would find out soon, he guessed.

  In the end, he chose a slightly better shirt that showed little wear and paired it with some decent pants. It wasn’t anything impressive—just the kind of outfit a merchant might wear while roaming the city—but it was still a noticeable step up from his worn-out school uniform.

  The next morning, Erik found himself standing by the academy’s main gate. Its iron-fenced gate was slightly open, signaling that the students were allowed to leave. It was around 11 in the morning, and Erik shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his fingers tapped on each other from boredom, his eyes alternated between the exit and the path leading back into the academy grounds.

  Honestly, he had never left the academy walls since getting here. At least now it would be his chance to properly explore Auryndale after coming here.

  Then, the sound of approaching footsteps broke through his thoughts. He turned toward the sound and saw Clara walking toward him.

  She wore a pale blue dress that fell just below her knees, held by a white ribbon around the waist. Erik barely recognized her at first. She always wore the academy uniform—this was different. Her chestnut-brown hair was braided, a few loose strands falling over her face. Something about it made her look... softer. No, that wasn’t quite the right word. More alive.

  Clara’s hazel eyes met his, and she offered a shy smile. "Sorry if I kept you waiting," she said softly, her voice carrying a hint of uncertainty. "I… wasn’t sure what to wear," though he could see that the skin around her eyes was a few shades off normal—perhaps some kind of cream or whatever other thing that women used and he couldn’t understand—he still could see what looked like a dark spot.

  Did she spend the night thinking? It made him feel a bit bad, considering he went low effort with this.

  He managed a small smile though, wanting to at least make her feel proud of her hard work. "You look… nice," he said, although slightly strained. It wasn’t a lie, she did look good, he just wasn’t quite sure how to put it towards her.

  Her cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink, and she glanced away. "Thanks. You, uh, cleaned up well too." She motioned toward his outfit.

  Erik glanced down at himself, feeling slightly self-conscious. "I just picked something that wasn’t my uniform," he said with a shrug.

  Clara giggled, the sound light and genuine. "Well, it works. Shall we?" She gestured toward the open gate.

  And like that, their date started. The pair had a warm, almost innocent feeling of discovery, something to relish.