Then Archery is my path

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I went to Block A, specifically to the hall adjacent to the library on the first floor. The library's entrance was marked by enormous double doors, adorned in an old European style.

Inside, the library was colossal, spanning three floors, each filled with hundreds, if not thousands, of shelves containing both paper and hologram books. It was divided into several sections, and the area was constantly patrolled by multiple librarians.

I approached one of them and asked for directions to the lecture hall. He pointed me to the third floor, where I found several standard lecture rooms. Each door had a plaque indicating the room's purpose.

I quickly located the class I needed and opened the door. My entrance drew the brief attention of about fifteen people seated inside, though their gazes didn't linger for more than a second—except for one. A girl smiled at me and gestured for me to come over.

The room had around fifteen two-person benches, and Lia was sitting alone at the last bench by the window. I walked over and sat beside her.

"Hello," I greeted.

"Hello! You were almost late," Lia replied, puffing out her cheeks in mock indignation.

"You didn't tell me what time to arrive. Besides, the stadium where I take my lessons is pretty far."

"These are just excuses."

"Of course. By the way, why doesn't anyone seem to notice you?"

Even though Lia isn't from a clan, she's ranked first in the ManaDomain faculty, I thought to myself, a fact confirmed by her jacket. Unlike mine, hers is white with two parallel gold stripes.

"That's a feature of this jacket," she explained. "It creates a barrier that prevents people from recognizing the wearer. As far as I understand, it uses some kind of light refraction that works on a psychological level."

"Then why did I recognize you?" I asked.

"Good question. Maybe you just have good eyes. It's starting."

Good eyes? Why can't anyone ever explain things normally? I thought.

An elderly woman entered the classroom. Despite her advanced age, her presence radiated vitality, and her eyes sparkled with wisdom.

"Hello. My name is Ariadna Dolores, and I will be teaching you Breathing Technique courses."

We all greeted her in return, and she began the lecture.

"Let's start with some basic questions. I'm sure you all know that breathing techniques are categorized by their performance and elemental affinity. But what is their purpose?"

A girl sitting at the first table raised her hand.

"Yes, go ahead," said Mrs. Ariadna.

"Breathing techniques allow us to intentionally manipulate the aether and achieve subsequent progress through enhanced physical capacities," the girl answered.

"Wonderful," Ariadna replied. "But is it true that we cannot manipulate aether without breathing techniques?"

The question was directed at the same girl, but this time she hesitated, unable to respond immediately.

"I would assume not?" she ventured.

"We can, dear," Ariadna said with a gentle smile. "In the beginning, humans did not use breathing techniques. Progress was made due to prolonged exposure to aether. Since breathing is a constant, natural process, certain conditions—like areas with high aether concentration or intense physical activity—allowed for the opening of skin pores, enabling basic manipulation of aether for combat techniques.

"Of course, this method is now considered obsolete due to its inefficiency and low success rate. Breathing techniques, as we know them today, were inspired by the combat methods of the elves. Naturally, they were later modernized and adapted for human use."

Mostly, this information is public and widely known, but it's beginning to fade into obscurity as time has passed since its origins. Now, these techniques are deeply integrated into human society.

One can only imagine how many elves were tortured and killed to obtain that first breathing technique.

Mrs. Ariadna continued her lecture, explaining the anatomy and physiology involved in forming the aetheric circuit, as well as the precise effects these techniques offer. To summarize the key points:

Breathing techniques contribute to forming the specific element tied to a martial art.

They enable the use of aether for combat techniques and the manipulation of an individual's elemental constitution. This process also acts as a trigger, putting the body into a heightened state of concentration.

The differences between techniques arise from the amount of aether they release, the potential damage they can inflict on the body, and the level of focus required to execute them.

After approximately two hours, the class ended, with the teacher taking a quick roll call of those participating in the course.

Throughout the lesson, though Lia and I focused on the lecture, I noticed her casting brief glances in my direction, as if she wanted to say something. When we stepped out of the classroom, I decided to ask her directly.

"Did something happen?" I asked.

"What? Why?" she responded, caught off guard.

"You've been wanting to ask me something all lesson."

At my words, Lia's cheeks flushed slightly.

"Well, it's nothing important… I just need to go to the market, and I was wondering if you'd come with me. You know, so I don't… buy too much or som…"

"Come on," I interrupted her mid-sentence, not wanting to listen to her roundabout excuses. Besides, I needed to buy some produce anyway since I'd finished the last of yesterday's game.

As soon as I agreed, her face lit up with happiness, though I wasn't entirely sure why.

Over the next few hours, we wandered through various stores. Ironically, none of them sold the produce I needed. Instead, Lia led me straight to the Shopping Center, where there was everything except food. And, of course, most of it was far beyond what I could afford.

She bought both jewelry and plush toys, which was odd. Normally, I'd feel annoyed by such meaningless things, but every time she found something that seemed cute or beautiful, her face would light up with happiness. Watching her like that, I felt an unexpected peace and quiet inside, as though, for a fleeting moment, the deep wounds of my past were beginning to heal.

We talked about all kinds of topics—so random and disjointed that tracing a logical path to how we got there would've been impossible. But I enjoyed it. For the first time in a while, I felt calm. I didn't want it to end, but evening inevitably came. The sun was nearing the horizon when we finally decided to head to Lia's house. She had bought so much along the way that two hands were barely enough to carry it all.

"Thanks for helping me bring these here," Lia said, smiling.

"For nothing. I still had a good time," I replied.

"Yes! With me, that's always guaranteed," she said proudly, puffing out her chest like it was some kind of fantastic compliment.

Then, suddenly, her smile vanished. Her face tensed, her entire demeanor changing in an instant, as though she had just seen something that ruined her mood entirely.

"Kail, thank you for spending time with me. You can leave the packages on the ground. Something urgent came up... I'll message you later, but for now, please disappear quickly."

Realizing the gravity of her tone, I nodded and did as she asked, leaving the packages by the door. I stepped away and vanished from sight, but I didn't leave entirely. I stayed hidden behind a tree some distance away, keeping an eye on her to ensure she was safe.

Rank 601 protecting Rank 1... I really don't underestimate myself, I thought, mildly amused by the irony.

After a short while, a boy with long red hair tied in a ponytail approached Lia. His smile was unsettling, exuding an aura of suspicion. He extended his hand toward Lia, and when his palm touched her face, I instinctively tensed every muscle in my body, resisting the overwhelming urge to act.

All kinds of negative emotions surged within me, as if a demon inside me wasn't just whispering but screaming at the top of its lungs, demanding that I act to correct something that, for my entire existence, could never be acceptable.

It took everything I had to stay still, but eventually, Lia took a step back, creating distance between them. Her expression turned to one of disgust and hatred, her posture rigid. The boy's smile didn't waver as he picked up the packages I had left and began following Lia at a cautious distance. She walked toward a truck, her pace deliberate, but she didn't let him get too close.

I stayed frozen, watching them until they both disappeared from view. Only then did I manage to relax, my muscles loosening and my breath evening out.

What was that? Why did I react like that?

I had some sympathy for Lia—ever since our time in the rehabilitation center—but that didn't explain the intensity of my reaction. It wasn't just concern. It felt like something primal inside me rejected the idea of another man touching her. As though it were a forbidden act, a taboo, that, if violated, would compel me to destroy everything around me.

I don't understand any of this.

I couldn't rationalize the feelings surging within me or the reaction they triggered. But one thing was certain.

I need to get rid of these emotions.

Even though the cause of my reaction had disappeared from sight, the scene refused to leave my mind. It lingered, gnawing at my thoughts. To clear my head, I remembered what Nero had told me about a place where I could release this pent-up aggression.

I headed to the gym, a facility open to everyone for personal training. It was conveniently located near the area where we had lessons with Mr. Michael. As I entered, I noticed the variety of activities taking place—people lifting weights, performing bodyweight exercises, and even practicing weapon techniques on mannequins. Among them, I spotted the person I was looking for.

Nero was training with a spear that was taller than he was. His focus and precision were captivating, but I approached him, interrupting his practice.

"Hello," I said.

"Hey, Kail. Did you come to train too?" Nero asked, lowering his spear.

"To some extent, yes. Are there private rooms for duels here?"

"Of course," he replied, pointing toward a row of iron doors at the end of the hall. "They're over there, but what's it for?"

"Let's have a duel. I need to calm down a bit."

"Why not? But do we really need a private room? There are open spaces for sparring, and those are free."

"Let's just say I need privacy for this," I insisted.

"If you say so," Nero shrugged and led the way.

We headed to the dueling rooms, and after Nero paid the fee for an hour—since I didn't have the means to do so—I grabbed a sword from the equipment rack nearby. The quality of the weapon was atrocious, but it didn't matter to me at that moment.

I entered the rented room with Nero, the cube-like space walled off from the rest of the gym. When Nero saw me holding the sword, a flicker of confusion crossed his face.

"I thought you specialized in archery?" he asked.

"At the moment, it's not an option," I replied.

To use the bow, emotions need to be reduced to zero. The more focused and calm you are, the higher the chance of hitting your target. While focus is essential for any weapon, swords can be wielded under the influence of emotions. Sometimes, emotions can even serve as fuel to enhance the results.

"Don't regret it when you're on the ground," Nero teased, readying his stance.

With a burst of energy, I rushed toward Nero, closing the distance between us. His reaction was immediate—he was already prepared to deflect my attack and counterstrike.

Even though I hadn't wielded a sword for a proper amount of time, it still felt oddly familiar in my hands. I initiated a vertical slash, but midway through the motion, I channeled the power from my legs up through my torso, halting the strike and converting it into a thrust.

Nero, ready to block the vertical attack, adjusted swiftly. Using the length of his spear, he deflected my blade to the left. However, I spun on my heel, redirecting my momentum into a follow-up strike aimed at his now-exposed side. Nero, thanks to his incredible flexibility, narrowly avoided the attack by mere centimeters.

Closing the gap between us, he looked at me with a serious expression.

"I understand now. I'll be serious," he said, his tone more focused.

I tightened my grip on the sword in response, and our duel resumed.

The clash continued for what felt like an eternity, both of us pushing ourselves. After an hour, the room rental time ended, forcing us to stop. Though we both had the stamina to continue, my goal for initiating the duel had already been achieved. When Nero suggested continuing, I refused. His expression—like a dog whose meal had been taken away—didn't change my decision.

"You're extremely skilled with a sword," Nero said, his tone sincere. "I'm telling you this as someone who's fought a lot of people."

"And yet, I couldn't even land a single cut on you," I replied, frustrated.

Nero gave me a strange look, as though I'd just confessed to a crime.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing," he said, shaking his head. "It's just... your style is very similar to that of the Cindercrest clan. I wanted to ask where you learned it, but if you don't want to share, that's your business."

"I can tell you that my master had some ties to Cindercrest but not anymore" I admitted. "It's late. I'm heading out."

"Yeah? I'll stay a little longer to train," Nero said, gripping his spear again.

"Good luck," I said, leaving the room.

As I stepped outside, a cold, dry wind swept over me, its biting chill attempting to envelop me.

I didn't buy any food either, I thought with a sigh, as the wind reminded me of my oversight.