The Main Character Everybody Hated Is Back

With the rest of his classes finished for the day, Axel Lycan found his way to the training room. 

It had quickly become his second home, not because he particularly enjoyed repetition, but because discipline was the one thing this world respected. Strength without control was useless. And Axel refused to be the same desperate boy who had flailed through every encounter in his first life.

In between reps, he rested one arm on the wall, chest rising steadily, eyes narrowed as his thoughts drifted, not on his enemies, but on something far more critical:

His weapon.

He needed something durable. High-grade material, lightweight but sharp. Something that cut with intention, not just power. Ideally, a weapon that responded to the user, able to be summoned and dismissed in an instant. A personalized extension of himself.

He didn't want a sword.

He wanted a partner.

"Yo, you done with the machine yet?"

The voice broke his train of thought. Axel turned his head slightly.

Landon Dusktone stood in front of him, towel draped over one shoulder, sweat-slicked hair sticking to his forehead.

Axel's grip loosened. "Yeah, all yours."

Without another word, he stepped off the platform, grabbing his water bottle and walking toward the benches off to the side. He took a slow sip, then opened his phone.

His thumbs moved swiftly across the screen.

Axel: |This is the guy who got your handkerchief. I obviously want a good-quality sword made out of durable material. I want it lightweight but sharp. Also, I want it as a summoning tool if you can find one like that. Thanks. P.S-I know you have the money, don't skimp on me.|

To Axel's surprise, Mico replied almost instantly

NPC 3: |The guy who got my handkerchief? Do you mean the guy who got caught by the teacher in the middle of class?|

NPC 3: |I'll get you what you need in 1-2 business days.|

Axel blinked. Then his fingers moved again.

Axel: |Thanks. Btw, I think you mean the guy who got called on by the teacher and absolutely owned it.|

Satisfied, he shut off his phone, tossed it inside his bag, and rolled his shoulders.

He approached the robotic training dummy. Its polished metal surface caught the faint overhead light, sensors quietly blinking in standby mode.

He tapped the panel.

Mode: Easy

Begin.

The wooden sword spun lazily in his grip once before settling into position.

Whirrr.

The dummy lunged.

Axel stepped aside with barely a shift in weight, his blade snapping forward in a quick jab. The impact echoed lightly in the big room.

He didn't flinch. He didn't blink.

His body moved automatically.

For the past few days, he had spent hours refining every step, every swing. His body still bore remnants of his past life's muscle memory, but it had to reconfigure for this younger, much weaker frame. His current self was lean, still growing. He couldn't rely on raw force.

So he learned to flow.

One strike. Two. Parry. Step. Turn. Elbow fake. Knee. Counter.

Over and over again.

His body adapted.

His mind adjusted.

Ten more strikes. Fifteen more dodges.

By the end of the cycle, the dummy's sensors blinked erratically, overloaded by precision hits to every weak point it was programmed to hide.

Axel stepped back and lowered the sword. His hair was damp with sweat, clinging to his forehead. His breathing was steady.

He restarted the dummy and wanted to go off to the bench, but a voice called out to him.

"Yo! Your sword skills are topnotch."

He turned his head.

A tall youth stood near the dummy station, sleeves rolled up, wooden sword slung across his shoulders like it was weightless. His black hair was streaked with silver, a bold contrast that matched the sharp edge in his expression. Gray eyes, intense and storm like, locked onto Axel with something between challenge and curiosity.

"Thanks," Axel said casually, unscrewing the cap of his water bottle.

"Spar with me." Landon didn't phrase it like a request.

Axel paused mid-sip. "Nah. I'm calling it in for the day. Spar with someone else."

"Come on, man." Landon stepped forward, already gripping his wooden sword with both hands. "No mana. No skills. Just pure swordsmanship."

Axel shrugged. There was really no reason for him to decline. Getting a connection with Landon early on wouldn't hurt.

"Fine." Axel grabbed a fresh wooden sword from the rack. "First to three strikes."

Landon's grin widened. "You're gonna regret this."

The sparring platform lit up. Smooth stone tiles underfoot, boundary runes along the edges. Nothing fancy.

Just a ring.

They stood across from one another.

Axel's stance was relaxed. Feet shoulder-width apart, sword angled low in a deceptively lazy grip. He studied Landon's stance: firm, squared up, textbook perfect.

But Landon's wrists were tense. His shoulders already coiled. He wanted to charge.

Axel didn't move.

"Begin," the training panel chirped.

Landon surged forward instantly.

His first swing came from above, a classic downward arc, raw power in every inch of it.

Axel sidestepped, catching the blow near the hilt and redirecting it. The wooden swords clashed with a loud crack. Axel's knees bent slightly, absorbing the impact.

He stepped in and tapped Landon's side with the tip of his sword.

Point: Axel.

_____________________________________________

Landon blinked, startled. Then laughed. "Alright. You're quick."

They reset.

This time, Landon didn't rush. He advanced with a slower pace, gauging Axel's reaction. His sword twitched slightly, testing feints.

Axel didn't bite.

He waited. Let Landon come to him.

When he did, it was fast—two slashes in quick succession, left then right.

Axel parried both, but the third strike came low, sweeping for his leg.

He jumped back.

Just in time to see Landon's sword lunge forward—straight for his chest.

Axel twisted, and the blade grazed his arm.

Point: Landon.

The score was even.

Axel exhaled slowly. Landon was adapting.

But so was he.

_____________________________________________

Third round.

Axel took the initiative this time.

He closed the distance with short, efficient steps, slashing diagonally toward Landon's dominant arm. Landon blocked, but Axel's foot pivoted, using the recoil to spin around and strike at his ribs.

Landon caught it.

His reflexes were scary.

The next ten seconds were a flurry of blows.

Landon's strength was overwhelming, every clash forced Axel to reposition. Every blocked strike sent tremors through his arms. He could feel his fingers going numb.

Landon's raw power was greater.

Axel couldn't win in a contest of force.

So he stopped trying.

He baited Landon instead.

His next strike was high, deliberately slow.

Landon blocked it easily.

Axel followed it up with a low jab, also slow.

Landon deflected that too, now confident, grinning—

And that's when Axel slipped his foot behind Landon's and pushed forward with his shoulder.

Landon stumbled, just slightly

And Axel tapped his chest again.

Point: Axel.

"Cheap," Landon muttered, recovering balance.

"Strategic," Axel replied.

___________________________________________

Final round.

Landon didn't wait.

He rushed, blade whistling through the air like it wanted to break something. His speed was frightening now. A blur of motion.

Axel ducked, weaved, parried, barely.

Each clash rattled his bones.

His stamina was dipping. Landon's wasn't.

He had to end this fast.

Axel let himself stumble. Let his blade dip just low enough to seem like a mistake.

Landon saw the opening and lunged.

But Axel dropped his center of gravity, slid sideways, and used Landon's own momentum against him, pivoting around and bringing the hilt of his sword to Landon's back.

Point. Match. Axel.