Orin Alpheratz (15 years old) Location: Solaris Date: Year 873 / Wolf Cycle (2) / Emperor's Day (4)

  Orin couldn't see anything. Darkness surrounded him completely: thick, endless, and absolute. He raised his hands in front of him, but saw nothing. No shape. No light. Not even the faint outline of his fingers.

  He began to walk, or at least he thought he did. There was no sensation beneath his feet, no resistance, no change. It felt as though he were treading through a void where direction, distance, and even time meant nothing.

  Then, slicing through the silence like a whisper through fog, a voice echoed faintly.

  "Orin! Are you there?"

  It was distant and fragmented, but unmistakably real.

  He turned instinctively toward the sound and moved, or tried to. The sensation of walking remained surreal, as though he were suspended in place. Still, he pressed forward.

  A bright silhouette slowly emerged in the distance. A figure just a bit taller than him, blurred and flickering like a mirage. The voice came again, clearer this time, though still distorted:

  "Orin! Can you hear me?"

  Orin opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out. His voice, like everything else in this place, was swallowed by the emptiness. He tried again. Nothing. It was as if even his breath didn't exist.

  Then the figure turned its head slightly, speaking to someone Orin couldn't see.

  "...I don't think I can connect with him yet. The interference is stronger than we anticipated. Maybe... sometime in the future..."

  Wait! Orin wanted to shout. I'm here!

  But the void silenced him.

  The voice returned one last time. Its tone now softer, fading.

  "Orin, I'll try again when the path is clearer. For now... wait until what—"

  And then, the figure vanished, swallowed by the darkness.

  A rush of weightlessness overtook him. Orin felt his body begin to fall. No. Float, until a sudden flash of light pierced through the gloom.

  He blinked.

  And in the next moment, his eyes fluttered open to a quiet morning.

  He was lying in his bed, the familiar ceiling of his room above him. A dim gray light filtered through the clouds outside, casting soft shadows across the floor.

  Breathing heavily, Orin sat up slowly, one hand clutching the fabric of his blanket.

  "...A dream?" he whispered.

  But something about it felt different.

  Too real to forget.

  Too clear to dismiss.

  Still haunted by the strange dream, Orin made his way to Professor Schedar's class. It was his first class after the battle against Hector, and he wasn't sure how he would feel seeing his childhood friend again after such a resounding defeat.

  Hector had promised to show him the difference in their skill, and he had delivered. That gap was undeniable. But strangely enough, instead of leaving him discouraged or bitter, it had ignited something deeper within Orin. A fire. A need to surpass himself. Because during that clash, even in the face of overwhelming odds, he had pushed past limits he hadn't even known were there.

  Even so, the memory of that fight brought with it an unavoidable thought. His best performance hadn't come with a shield in hand. It had come when he'd cast it aside, when he'd stopped clinging to the rigid form of traditional knighthood. And yet, Orin wasn't ready to give up on that path. Not yet. If anything, he was more determined to master it. To find a way to make the shield his own, rather than let it define or limit him. For that, he intended to speak to both Professor Schedar and Professor Velorum.

  When he stepped into the classroom, he noticed it immediately: the shift in atmosphere. Students who had barely acknowledged his presence before now greeted him with nods or glances. Some offered small smiles. Others just stared as if trying to see him in a new light.

  As Orin made his way to his seat, a voice called out from beside him.

  "Orin."

  He turned.

  It was Anne Dia, the only girl in the Knight Class. She was smiling gently, her long chestnut braid swaying behind her. He recognized her from the Group Tactics class. She had been on Hector's team, but they had never spoken before.

  "I just wanted to say... congratulations on the fight yesterday," she said, and for a moment her gaze dropped, her voice growing quiet. "And also... I want to apologize. I was one of those people who thought you got into this academy because of your father's connections with the League of Knights. Honestly... I think a lot of us believed that."

  Her words struck Orin harder than he expected, not because they were cruel, but because he'd never realized that perception existed at all.

  "But after yesterday... you proved us wrong," Anne added, her voice more certain this time.

  Orin paused, then offered a faint smile.

  "Thanks for saying that," he said. "I hope we can all keep growing together as knights."

  Anne nodded, cheeks a little flushed, then turned and quickly walked back to her seat, joining the group gathered around Hector, who now sat surrounded by admiring classmates, their expressions filled with admiration... and something almost like reverence.

  No sooner had Orin settled into his seat than Sirius plopped down beside him, his expression brighter than usual.

  "Looks like people are finally starting to recognize your courage, Orin," Sirius said with a satisfied grin. "I hope this sparks a shift in how the knighthood course sees things. Honestly, I've always believed that being able to think outside the box is just as important as tradition, especially when the moment demands it."

  Orin offered a faint smile, though his eyes remained thoughtful. "I'm not so sure... Maybe being too unconventional means I'm missing the point of what it really means to be a knight. Don't you think the way I fought during the duel was more in line with what someone from the warrior course would do?"

  Sirius leaned back, arms crossed, as if weighing the thought seriously. "Maybe... But think about it from another angle. If your shield breaks mid-battle, or your stance is too rigid, then that's the end of the fight for a traditional knight. But you? You didn't stop there. You adapted. You expanded. That's not something to be ashamed of."

  He glanced sideways at Orin, voice softening.

  "I guess part of it is... I've always been better at mimicking techniques than creating my own. That's why I admire people like you. Those who can fight freely and carve out their own style, even if it goes against the rules. That kind of strength is real, too."

  Orin's eyes widened slightly. A fighting style that blends two schools... That idea didn't sound so far-fetched. If he could strengthen his foundation with the shield, while also developing his more fluid swordplay, he might just reach a level where he could face Hector on equal footing.

  "Thank you, Sirius," Orin said at last, a more genuine smile spreading across his face. "I think I finally understand what I need to do, and how to do it."

  "That's what I like to hear, Captain," Sirius replied, giving him a playful nudge with his fist. "And count on me to help however I can. We'll make you the winner of the Hero's Trial."

  Orin nodded firmly, a small smile tugging at his lips as Sirius returned to his seat. Just then, Professor Schedar entered the classroom, his presence silencing the murmurs and marking the start of the lesson.

  Yet something immediately caught Orin's attention.

  Perseus isn't here...?

  He glanced around, his eyes scanning the rows of students. No sign of him. It was odd. Perseus was usually one of the first to arrive, always upright and alert. But after what happened the day before, Orin could imagine the frustration that might be weighing on him. He understood that kind of disappointment all too well.

  Still, there was no time to dwell. As the rest of the students were assigned to continue practicing the Solar Sword skill, Professor Schedar beckoned Orin and Hector to the front of the class.

  "I believe the two of you have already demonstrated more than enough proficiency with Solar Sword," Schedar said, arms crossed and expression sharp. "Considering the limited time before the Hero's Trial, I've decided to teach you a new technique. One that will give you an edge if you master it quickly."

  Orin's eyes lit up. Another sword skill? His mind was already racing. If he truly wanted to match Hector, or even surpass him, he'd need to grow faster than ever. Still, he reminded himself: if he wanted to build a fighting style that balanced both offense and defense, he couldn't afford to neglect his shield practice outside of class.

  Professor Schedar stepped over to a shelf, retrieving a training sword that shimmered faintly beneath the classroom light. "Now pay close attention."

  He turned to Hector. "Hold a training shield for me. Do your best to keep it steady. Brace yourself."

  Hector wordlessly took the shield, gripping it with both hands and planting his feet. His expression was unreadable, but his stance was solid.

  Schedar exhaled softly, raising the sword. His posture wasn't the same as the wide-arc slashes used in Solar Sword. It was more compact, his body coiled like a spring. Then, in a clear voice, he declared:

  "ACTIVATE KNIGHT SKILL: Piercing Sword."

  A sudden blur of motion. The sword launched forward like a lance, trailing a light-blue streak as it pierced straight through the shield in Hector's hands. The training shield didn't shatter. It didn't break. It was simply... punctured, cleanly, as though the blade had passed through silk rather than steel.

  Orin's eyes widened.

  Hector, silent as ever, stared at the hole in the center of the shield, visibly impressed.

  Schedar lowered the sword, his voice calm but firm. "This is Piercing Sword. A skill that ignores the weight and force of a strike in favor of raw precision and speed. Against an opponent who relies heavily on their shield or armor, this could be the deciding blow."

  Orin swallowed hard. He could already feel how difficult this would be to master, but the fire in his chest only grew stronger.

  "Now I want you to try the skill. Stand in front of a shield on the wall and try to pierce it as much as you can," Professor Schedar instructed, handing each of them a training sword. He gestured toward a row of old decorative shields hanging across the far wall. "You don't need to break through completely. Just damaging the outer layer will be enough to show you're grasping the technique."

  He folded his arms and added, "This will likely be more difficult to master than Solar Sword. The stance and focus required come from a style closer to what assassins or hunters use. Rrefined and precise, but adapted to the swordsmanship of a knight."

  Both boys nodded, taking their positions side by side, facing the line of shields. Orin stepped forward, gripping the hilt of the training sword tightly. As expected, the Piercing Sword skill didn't come easily. No golden glow, no rush of heat, just a vague sensation of tension and release, but no result.

  Still, he repeated the stance again and again. Draw back, gather focus at the tip, thrust like lightning.

  Though he didn't fully grasp the flow of energy, something about the stance felt increasingly... natural. Familiar, even. The more he practiced, the more his body adapted to the rhythm of the motion.

  Next to him, Hector was silent and methodical. He struggled to activate the technique as well, but his face showed no sign of irritation. Without so much as a frown, he struck over and over again, each movement sharp, controlled, and unrelenting.

  And then, suddenly.

  A flash of blue light cut through the air. A sharp metallic crack echoed across the room.

  Gasps rippled through the classroom.

  It wasn't Hector's strike.

  All eyes turned toward Orin. The shield in front of him now bore a clean, narrow hole. Small but unmistakable. The metal edges curled slightly at the impact point, smoke trailing faintly from the mark.