Notes

Transcendence



Chapter 5: "The Studious and The Study"
[First to Sixth Sections]


[FIRST SECTION]

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the boys’ dormitory buzzed with life. The main hall was filled with chatter and laughter as students exchanged stories from the day.

A door suddenly shut with a decisive click.

Inside his room, Shiro let out a sigh of relief, pressing his back against the door. His face was flushed red, his thoughts a storm of embarrassment.

"That was embarrassing. I'm an idiot!"

His mind replayed the scene from earlier—Ely’s golden eyes gleaming mischievously, her teasing smile far too close to his face.

"You're cute, Shiro-chan!"

Her playful voice echoed in his head.

Shiro’s entire body tensed. His face turned an even deeper shade of red as he groaned in frustration.

"AAAHHHH!"

He banged his head against the wall, steam practically rising from his head.

"I'M REALLY AN IDIOT! I WON’T FALL FOR THAT! NO WAY!"

Yet, the memory wouldn’t leave him alone.

"Tee-hee!"

He could still hear Ely’s giggle, see her wink in his mind.

His expression darkened.

"Why do I feel like I’m having a thing for her?! She's dangerous! Her pure charm is diabolical!"

After a minute of deep breathing, he forced himself to calm down, rubbing his temples.

"Okay…focus."

He walked to his desk, sat down, and cast Arcane Art: Spatial Circle. A shimmering circle formed in the air, and from within, he pulled out several books he had borrowed from the library.

"This Arcane Art is useful. With it, I can store anything—tools, weapons, materials…"

He reached his hand into the circle and pulled out a set of skewered meats, still fresh and steaming.

"…even food!"

His stomach rumbled in approval.

"Time to dig in!"

He took a bite, savoring the rich, well-seasoned flavor.

"Mmm!"

His eyes closed in bliss.

"The meat in the canteen is great! I'm glad I grabbed these before heading back."

As he chewed, he reflected on his earlier escape.

"Good thing I had those smoke bombs. I used up two, but they're easy to make as long as I have the ingredients. I figured Ely-sensei would try to stop me, so I set up a decoy and slipped away with the real one. Now I can enjoy my food in peace."

His thoughts drifted further.

"My appetite keeps growing… Even several skewers might not be enough to satisfy me. My body keeps demanding more nutrients, especially after adapting. Back home, food was never a problem. Wild boar meat always made my mouth water. But Bully Boar meat? Now that was superior. Still… nothing beats Nina-chan’s cooking."

A fond smile tugged at his lips as he continued eating, chewing slowly to savor the flavor.

"Ever since my body started adapting, my hunger has increased. A simple meal isn’t enough anymore. My body craves nutrients constantly… and monster meat satisfies that need better than anything else. It’s crucial for me—especially for the two Arts I created."

After finishing his meal, he took a long sip from his leather flask, sighing in satisfaction.

"That should hold me over for the night. As long as I don’t burn too much energy, I won’t get hungry fast. I’ll have to eat a lot in the morning before Siri-sensei’s class."

He glanced at the books on his desk.

"Now then..."

Shiro leaned forward, flipping open a book and immersing himself in its contents. Page by page, he absorbed the information, his thoughts deep in analysis.

The Eleven Classes
"There are eleven known Classes..."

Swordsman – Masters of swordsmanship. Melee-type, close-range, offensive role. (Blade Arts).
Mage – Spellcasters. Ranged-type, medium to long-range, various roles. (Maji Arts, Light Arts, Dark Arts).
Spearman – Experts in spearmanship. Close to medium-range, offensive role, precise strikes. (Point Arts).
Ranger – Ranged-type, medium to long-range, support and offensive. (Point Arts).
Tanker – Melee-type, close-range, defensive and support. Powerhouses. (Blunt Arts).
Healer – Support and defense. Spellcasters. Close to long-range. Restorative and buffing magic. (Maji Arts).
Brawler – Hand-to-hand combat. Melee-type, extreme agility, offensive. (Combat Arts).
Priest – Support-type. Counteracts Dark Arts. Buffs and defensive magic, purifies curses. (Maji Arts, Light Arts).
Assassin – Melee-type, offensive, stealth, ambush tactics. (Blade Arts, Maji Arts, Dark Arts).
Rogue – Melee-type, offensive, stealth, scouting, utility. (Blade Arts, Maji Arts, Dark Arts).
Summoner – Support-type, spellcasters. Summons familiars for combat or assistance. (Maji Arts, Arcane Arts).
Shiro closed the book with a quiet bop, exhaling deeply.

"That's a lot to understand and remember. Still, I get it—each Class has strengths, weaknesses, and unique roles."

Then, he recalled something.

"Oh yeah… Maiden told me to check something."

"Status," he muttered.

A glowing screen materialized before him, displaying his personal information.

Name: Shiro
Rank: G
Class: Survivalist
Traits: Fragility, Adaptability
His eyes moved to the sections detailing skills and abilities, neatly categorized under disciplines.

"There are eleven disciplines as well..."

Ancient Arts
Arcane Arts
Blade Arts
Blunt Arts
Blood Arts
Combat Arts
Dark Arts
Light Arts
Maji Arts
Neutral Arts
Point Arts
"So many different paths… yet so diverse."

One detail in his status stood out.

"It’s strange how last names aren’t shown here, only first names. That’s a good thing. Nina-chan told me to keep my last name hidden. I hope neither Siri-sensei nor Ely-sensei—or anyone else—asks about it."

His hand instinctively reached for the three amulets around his neck. Among them, one stood out—a Sun Amulet and a Moon Amulet.

Shiro’s grip tightened.

"I am a Miraku."

He tucked the amulets beneath his shirt.

"Yet, despite being one, I haven’t mastered the Sun and Moon Rituals. Without that mastery, I can’t properly wield the Ancient Arts. I've only managed to learn a single skill from each ritual..."

His gaze drifted toward the ceiling, frustration flickering in his expression.



A past memory resurfaced—Shiro, five years old, standing before his father, struggling to grasp the Ancient Rituals. His small hands trembled as he tried to form the proper stance, but the energy wouldn’t respond the way he wanted.

"That's okay, Shiro!" His father’s voice was warm and reassuring as he knelt to his son’s level, placing a firm yet gentle hand on his shoulder. "Even learning and honing at least one skill still calls for celebration!"

"But both the Sun and Moon Rituals have many distinct abilities. I admit they're too difficult!" Shiro's frustration was clear, his voice slightly trembling, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"I get it, son. You want to learn them so badly, but I don’t want you to force or rush yourself," his father said, his tone calm but firm. "Ancient Rituals require strict mastery. Using them without proper control leads to unbearable consequences… unlike the rest of the Arts."

His father adjusted his posture and continued, his eyes filled with both wisdom and pride. "Listen, Shiro. Did you know how all Arts were created?"

Shiro, still frustrated, looked up, curiosity flickering in his silver-blue eyes.

"The Ancient Arts—the very first discipline—were created by the Progenitor, our very ancestor, the first and original Miraku. After he appeased the Ancient Gods, ended the mortal conflicts, and restored all balance millennia ago, he was blessed by the Ancient Gods themselves. It was they who gave him the name 'Miraku'—the name that we, his descendants, carry and pass on."

Shiro listened intently, his small hands clenched into fists, absorbing every word.

"As for the Ancient Rituals he created… from them, the Ancient Arts were born—the absolute discipline harnessing the powers of the Ancient Gods: Amaterasu, the Sun Goddess, and Tsukuyomi, the Moon God. However, the Ancient Arts were impossibly difficult for anyone to master. So, the Progenitor divided this discipline into ten distinct Arts: Arcane Arts, Blade Arts, Blunt Arts, Blood Arts, Combat Arts, Dark Arts, Light Arts, Maji Arts, Neutral Arts, and Point Arts. These became the foundation for all warriors, scholars, and practitioners across the world. Everyone was able to harness these sub-branches, making them more accessible."

His father’s grip on Shiro’s shoulders tightened slightly, not in reprimand, but in encouragement.

"Our ancestors, on the other hand, could wield the Ancient Arts because they—like us—carried the Progenitor’s blood and will. However, most of them could only master either the Sun Ritual or the Moon Ritual. Only a very few… could master both."

Shiro's breath hitched slightly.

His father smiled, tapping his own chest. "Myself included."

Shiro’s eyes widened, awe and determination flickering within them.


[End of First Section]





[Second Section]

(Shiro’s past memory continues…)

"You too, Dad? You mastered both Ancient Rituals? How?" Shiro’s eyes gleamed with curiosity.

His father chuckled before explaining, "When I was your age, I practiced the Ancient Rituals day and night. Of course, I rested the next day, then resumed my training the day after that. So on and so forth. It was incredibly difficult, but I moved at my own pace instead of following others. Back then, I was just an average Swordsman—the lowest among them. Everything changed when I started harnessing the Ancient Rituals. I kept pushing past my limits, proving myself over and over, climbing the ranks. And, well… I had your mother by my side. We went on journeys together, along with our companions—including Nina."

The moment his father mentioned his late mother, Shiro’s face lit up. "Mom and Nina-chan?! Was Mom strong, too?!"

His father smiled warmly at his son’s excitement. "Far stronger than me. Even when I fought her at my full potential, I couldn’t come close to her limit. She was in a league of her own. Nina would tell you the same."

"Can I be as strong as you and Mom?" Shiro asked, clenching his fists with determination.

His father shook his head. "No."

"Eh?" Shiro blinked in confusion.

His father grinned. "Surpass us. Be better, Shiro."

Shiro’s eyes widened before he broke into a determined smile. "Yes!"

His father placed a firm but gentle hand on his son’s head. "You’ve already learned both swordsmanship and archery, along with their disciplines. That alone proves you have the potential to master the Ancient Rituals. Right now, you’ve grasped at least one skill from each Ritual—that’s your first step toward learning the rest. Even if it’s still too difficult to unlock the other skills, just focus on the ones you can use. Hone them to perfection. A basic skill refined to mastery can rival even advanced techniques. Just like how the High Elves taught you to learn Point Arts—time and patience."

Shiro nodded attentively. "What makes Ancient Arts the hardest to master?"

His father leaned back slightly as he explained. "Aside from being the foundation of all Arts, the Ancient Arts can only be obtained through following and practicing the Ancient Rituals. That’s the main requirement. It’s not like the Modern Gods randomly blessing someone with power. The Ancient Gods only grant their blessings to those who prove themselves through discipline, virtue, and effort. They choose only the worthy.

"And more than that… Unlike the Modern Gods’ blessings, mastering the Ancient Rituals doesn’t just give you access to the Ancient Arts. It allows you to transcend your limits. The further you go, the stronger you become. The Ancient Gods offer limitless power—but only to those who can truly handle it. Those who seek to abuse it will never be granted their favor."

Shiro looked down at his hands, deep in thought. "Am I worthy, Dad?"

His father smiled. "Only you can find that answer. And that answer will come once you fully grasp the Ancient Rituals. Consider this your challenge, Shiro—one that will shape your growth." He gently patted Shiro’s head.

Shiro clenched his fists again, this time with even greater determination. "I’ll do my best!"

"That’s the spirit!" His father laughed. "Well, you’ll have to get through me first, though!"

Shiro smirked. "I won’t give in!"

The memory faded, and time returned to the present.

Lying in bed, Shiro found himself staring at the ceiling.

"I still have a long way to go, Dad…" he murmured before his mind shifted to another thought—his Class: Survivalist.

"My Class is… definitely uncommon. No, it’s unheard of. In all of history, only eleven Classes have existed. That means no one else has the answers… except me. Master was right. Maybe I don’t fit into any Class. That’s because…"

Another memory surfaced—his master’s words after he had completed his training.

"Master, what Class do you think I’ll awaken as?" asked eight-year-old Shiro.

"I don’t know," replied his master—the Devil-Masked man. Sitting on a cliff near a great waterfall, he gazed out at the vast scenery. "With your skills and talents, you don’t fit into any of the twelve Classes."

"Twelve Classes?" Shiro blinked in surprise. "I thought there were only eleven."

"The twelfth Class is Spellblade—a fusion of Swordsman and Mage. A dangerous combination of blade techniques and magic spells. An extremely rare Class in history. In the past, during my prime, there was a silver-haired female Spellblade who fought me alone," his master shared, his voice carrying a tinge of nostalgia. Beneath his Devil Mask, he scoffed with amusement. "I lost. Among everyone who challenged me and fell, only she managed the impossible."

He chuckled, then turned to Shiro, whose face was frozen in shock. "You already know who I mean, Shiro. It’s unfortunate you never had the chance to meet her. Among the twelve Classes, Spellblade is formidable on its own. But in your case…" His voice turned serious. "Whatever Class you awaken as—don’t let it limit you. Learn and master as much as you see fit. Only you can find the answers."

After a brief pause, he looked back at the landscape before him.

"Understood," Shiro responded, inhaling the crisp autumn air. His thoughts lingered on his master’s words. "The Spellblade who defeated Master…"

The wind rustled the leaves around them, blending with the rhythmic sound of the waterfall. The golden hues of autumn painted the mountainside in breathtaking serenity.

The memory faded once more, bringing Shiro back to the present.

He glanced at the books on his desk. Then, a confident smile formed on his face.

"I’ll find those answers myself."

[End of Second Section]





[Third Section]

The next morning…

"Uhh…" Shiro groaned as he woke up, his vision still blurry. "It's morning already? I fell asleep last night after thinking about so many things…"

He blinked a few times, adjusting to the light, then glanced at the wall clock—4 AM.

"Class starts at 8 AM. Still four more hours… No time to laze around."

Throwing off the covers, he got up and began his usual warm-ups. As he stretched, his joints popped and cracked, his body loosening up with each deep breath.

"Back home, I had to do this every morning before training. Even Nina was strict about it—she made sure I warmed up before she started throwing me around with all those grapples and takedowns. And Master? His warm-ups were so brutal they felt like preparing for death." He sighed at the memory before smirking slightly. "Well, I'm used to it by now. It's part of my daily routine."

He flexed his arms, taking note of his physique. "My muscles have developed like a young adult's… Pretty unbelievable for a twelve-year-old. I’ve even got abs already. Not that I care about showing off—especially with all these scars."

After finishing his stretches, Shiro changed into a light workout outfit, making sure his scars remained covered. He took a quick look in the mirror.

"As long as my body’s covered, no problem. I have confidence, but I don’t like standing out."

Stepping outside the dormitory, he walked past the gate, dressed simply except for a shortsword sheathed at his waist. He bounced lightly on his feet, testing his movement.

"I feel so much lighter without my gear…" He thought back to the first time he wore it.

"When I was eleven, Dad made my preferred gear and infused it with an Arcane rune, giving it a deadweight property. That meant when worn, it became incredibly durable but also unnaturally heavy, automatically adjusting to my physical limit. When taken off, the weight reverted to normal. For most people, that kind of burden would be a huge disadvantage. But for me? It’s perfect. It helps me hold back my strength and train my body at the same time—a two-in-one benefit."

A small grin crossed his face. "To anyone else, my gear looks like simple leather, hide, and chainmail. Nothing flashy like shiny plate armor. But any skilled blacksmith would recognize it for what it is—a masterpiece. After all, my father forged it himself, using materials that are difficult to find. Even a master blacksmith would bow down to its craftsmanship."

Taking a deep breath, Shiro positioned himself for a jog.

"At this hour, almost no one's awake. Maybe a few, but that’s fine." He exhaled sharply. "Right, without my gear, I need to be careful with my strength. Let’s go."

He started at a light jog, passing through the quiet academy grounds.

"So peaceful… I like this. I’ll make this my daily routine."

Picking up the pace, he felt the crisp morning air against his face. The wind brushed past him in a cool, soothing wave.

"It's still cold… but I barely feel it. When I was younger, mornings like these felt like a blizzard against my body. Now? It’s just a refreshing breeze." His grin widened. "Feels good… Time to go faster!"

With that, he pushed his speed from a jog to a full run—whoosh!

Soon, he reached the training grounds.

There, he spotted several physical obstacle courses designed for climbing, crawling, jumping, and maneuvering—each one meant to train agility, endurance, and overall mobility. The entire area was as vast as a battlefield.

Just one look, and he already felt fired up. His grin stretched wider.

"I have to try this!"

In a blur, he sprinted toward the obstacle course.

Slide! He glided smoothly under a structure.
Climb! He scaled a high rock wall without using the rope, his grip firm and movements precise.
Jump! He leaped from one vertical log to another without hesitation, his balance unwavering.
Crawl! He snaked under a thick net, his body low and swift.
Lift! He carried heavy sandbags to the goal without breaking a sweat.
Sprint! He ran up a long, steep wall, never losing momentum.
Ascend! He scaled a smooth, solid wall without needing a rope.
Kick! He knocked over a large vertical log with a single strike. "Oops… might've overdone that one."
One by one, he conquered every challenge without a single misstep.

Finally, after clearing the last obstacle, he jumped down from a great height, landing smoothly before spinning mid-air—just for style.

"Still got the moves!" he mused, breathing deeply.

With the course complete, he began cooling down.

"Alright… time to head back. Need to take a bath, eat at the canteen, and then—"

Before he could finish his thoughts—

"Attend Sir's class! You're so hardworking! I love that part of you!"

A sweet, familiar voice rang out.

"Eh?! That voice…" Shiro turned around sharply.

"Good morning, Shiro-chan~!"

There stood Ely, waving playfully from a distance. She was dressed in a light yet striking pink outfit, clearly prepared for a workout herself.

Shiro’s mind blanked for a second. "Ely-sensei?! I got so worked up that I didn’t even feel her presence!"

…Wait.

He accidentally said that out loud.


[End of Third Section]







[Fourth Section]

‘Wait! Did I just slip out the last part?!’ Shiro panicked.

"Ara~! Was that last part supposed to be an inner monologue, Shiro-chan?" Ely teased, a smug smirk playing on her lips.

"What is that?! Inner monologue?" Shiro responded, confused.

"Oh, never mind," she playfully covered her mouth. "That was meant for anyone who might be watching or listening to us."

"I don't get it, sensei! What are you even up to, anyway? Since when were you here?" His confusion only deepened.

"Since before you made that exciting face and said, ‘I have to try this!’" Ely mimicked Shiro's voice in a cute way before flashing him an amused smile. "You were so cool! Can you do that again?" She pleaded, winking at him.

"No, thank you!" Shiro shot back, his face flustered, his tone sharp.

"Please? I want to savor the moment! As one of my ‘Shiro’s rare and badass moments’ collections! Tee-hee~!" She persisted, still teasing.

"Don't 'tee-hee' me, Ely-sensei!" he retorted, looking away. ‘Idiot!’

"Hmm... just now, you called me an ‘idiot,’ didn't you?" Ely narrowed her golden eyes, still smirking.

"EH! I didn't say that aloud—" Shiro blurted out, then froze. "—Mmph!" He slapped a hand over his mouth as his face turned completely red.

"Ara-ara~! That was an inner monologue! Whoopsie! Shiro-chan, you meanie!" She giggled, voice playful and childish.

"Mrrr! What the hell do you mean by inner monologue?! You're not making any sense, Ely-sensei!" Annoyed and embarrassed, Shiro raised his voice.

A few moments passed as he tried to catch his breath, forcing himself to relax and recompose.

‘This is more tiring than working out!’ he exhaled, exasperated.

"You can consider that as a workout, too!" Ely chimed in cheerfully.

"Can you stop, please? I have to go," Shiro muttered, already preparing his escape. He discreetly hid a smoke bomb under his shirt—just in case.

But Ely was faster.

"Nope! Not today, Shiro-chan~!" She darted past him in an instant, plucking the smoke bomb from his grasp as effortlessly as a passing breeze. Holding it up in her hand, she smiled at him.

‘She's fast, alright. I can't outpace her even without my gear!’

"Shiro-chan, that was supposed to be an inner monologue," Ely teased, grinning as she placed a finger on her lips.

"Mm!" Shiro flinched but kept his guard up, revealing another smoke bomb in his other hand.

"I see. You're prepared as always! As expected from Shiro-chan~! But I won’t let up now," she mused. "I can just snatch that away—eh?"

Shiro wordlessly raised his other hand, revealing even more smoke bombs, his sharp gaze never leaving hers despite the heat creeping up his face.

"Shiro-chan, how many more smoke bombs do you have? Are you an Assassin?" Ely asked, sounding both surprised and amused.

"Not gonna tell you, sensei!" Shiro replied firmly.

"Okay. I guess this one can be considered a real workout," she giggled.

Then, her teasing aura changed.

Shiro felt it immediately.

The air around Ely shifted as her golden eyes subtly glowed—a bright, piercing pink. Though she was still smiling, her presence carried something deeper.

‘Her scent... it’s mixed with serious intent. I can't escape her this time, even if I set off the smoke bombs. She's serious!’ Shiro's sweat dripped as his senses flared in response.


[End of Fourth Section]




[Fifth Section]

‘Hmm…’ Ely observed Shiro carefully, noting the tension in his posture. ‘He’s on guard. I can see it in his eyes. I don’t know whether he plans to submit or rebel, but one thing’s clear—he won’t back down. Even so… he’s not drawing his sword.’

"Shiro-chan~!" Her tone remained playful, her gentle smile unwavering, yet her glowing pink eyes told a different story. "You’re not planning to run away, are you?"

‘Running away isn’t an option. Even if I set off the smoke bombs, she’d outrun me. I have no choice.’ Shiro focused on sensing her, his body stiffening slightly. ‘Her scent is still serene, but there’s a weight to it… and she has no killing intent. Even if she doesn’t mean to harm me, I can’t afford to let my guard down! She’s on the same level as Siri-sensei—she’s not an easy opponent!’

"Even if I wanted to, it’d be useless. Running would mean I’m underestimating you, Ely-sensei," Shiro answered, his voice steady despite his heightened awareness.

Ely’s smile widened. "I figured you were smarter than most. Not even my students can land a hit on me… not even my ace, Aria, at her best." She placed a hand on her chest, as if declaring an oath. "That’s why… as an S-Rank Ranger and leading advisor of the Ranger Class, I ensure they master their abilities and transcend."

"My guess was right after all. You’re an S-Ranker, sensei. Just like Siri-sensei," Shiro responded.

"That’s right, Shiro-chan~!" she chimed in a teasing tone. Then, her voice turned more thoughtful. "However… Siri-chan is different. She’s the strongest in the Academia, second only to the Headmaster, as he claims. And… she was the third strongest member of the former Ashen Party. I was part of that party, too."

Shiro’s breath hitched. ‘The Ashen Party?! Siri-sensei and Ely-sensei… were former members?!’ His hands trembled as realization struck. ‘That means… they were companions of Nina-chan and my parents?!’

He clenched his fists, forcing himself back to reality. ‘Right now… I’m standing before a former member of the world’s strongest party—the Ashen Party. I don’t stand a chance against her. But…’ His grip tightened. ‘I won’t cave in!’

Ely tilted her head, still smiling—and then…

She vanished.

A brief silence filled the air.

Then—she reappeared in front of him, reaching out to grab him—

BOOM!

A smoke bomb detonated, engulfing the area in a blinding cloud.

"Missed me!" Ely’s amused voice echoed before she disappeared again.

‘She vanished again!’

Before Shiro could react, she reappeared behind him. He immediately set off another smoke bomb—

BOOM!

"Try again, Shiro! Tee-hee~!" Ely’s playful voice rang from an unknown direction.

Smoke bombs burst one after another, but no matter how many he set off, Shiro found no opening against her lightning-fast movements.

‘Either she’s trying to wear me down, or she’s waiting for me to run out of smoke bombs. Either way, I’m making no progress at all!’

He needed a new plan.

Shiro quickly scanned his surroundings, adjusting his stance as Ely vanished and reappeared unpredictably. Then—he spotted it.

‘The obstacle course!’

‘If I stay in open areas, she holds all the advantages. But inside the obstacle course… I can find an opening. It may not slow her down, but the corners and obstacles will give me brief moments to breathe—to strategize.’

Making up his mind, he set off another smoke bomb and sprinted toward the obstacle course.

"I told you, Shiro-chan~! I won’t let you run away." Ely giggled, her glowing eyes burning even brighter. ‘I bet he’s up to something.’

As soon as Shiro ducked behind a corner, Ely suddenly appeared right behind him.

"Found you~!"

BOOM!

‘It can’t be helped. I have to take this gamble!’ Shiro braced himself.

Each time Ely vanished and reappeared—another smoke bomb exploded. One after another, after another…

Soon, the entire obstacle course was shrouded in thick smoke.

"Mmm… seriously, how many smoke bombs do you have, Shiro-chan~?" Ely muttered, amused. "I counted twenty so far."

Silence.

"Hey, say something, Shiro-chan~!" she teased in a flirty voice, standing still as she tried to sense his presence through the thick smoke.

Silence.

Then—she heard his calm, concentrated voice from a distance.

"Survival Art: Spatial Awareness."

Ely’s eyes narrowed. ‘Survival Art? What discipline is that?’

This was the first time she had heard of such an art.

‘Interesting.’ Her lips curled into a smirk.

Then—she spotted him.

Shiro was kneeling, arms spread sideways, eyes closed.

"I got you, Shiro-chan~!" Ely lunged at him at insane speed.

But then—

"Survival Art: Trickster."

Shiro vanished.

"Huh?" Ely blinked in confusion. "What just happened?" She tried to sense him but—

"Over here, Ely-sensei!"

She turned to see him—standing atop a vertical log, his eyes glowing like the blue sky, locked onto her with a fierce glare.

"Ara~! You’re serious now, Shiro-chan~?" Ely pouted playfully. "You’re scaring me~! But you look so cute and cool!"

But Shiro remained silent.

Still.

Watching.

Unshaken.

‘Oh? He’s completely unfazed. So this is what he’s like when he’s dead serious?’ Ely noted, her excitement growing. ‘If looks could kill… I’d be dead already. Shiro-chan, you’re really something else, aren’t you?’

"You’re not an ordinary child after all," she said, smiling. "No other student has ever lasted this long. You’re the first. I commend your determination."

She listened to his heartbeat. ‘Even his heartbeat is normal. He’s completely calm. It feels like whatever he suffered in the "depths of hell" has eaten away his fear.’

Without hesitation, she lunged at him.

But—Shiro vanished again.

‘Ara? He’s even faster now. I like it!’

Both of them stood on vertical logs, maintaining eye contact, their glowing eyes clashing.

Ely feinted—lunging forward, then vanishing—only to reappear at Shiro’s side. But—he vanished before she even struck.

‘No way!’ Ely’s eyes widened. ‘Did he read my movement?! Are these the effects of his Survival Arts?’

Shiro reappeared on another log, his back facing her.

‘He’s not even looking back… as if he already knows where I am. He’s not underestimating me—he’s completely confident in his abilities.’

Whoosh!

She tried again. And again.

Jumping, feinting, lunging—yet each time, Shiro dodged flawlessly.

‘He’s adapting to my movements! Not even my tricks are working anymore!’

But—then it happened.

Shiro’s speed faltered.

Ely’s eyes flashed.

"Game over, Shiro-chan~!" She lunged one final time—

And wrapped her arms around his waist.

She giggled. "Hmm, Shiro-chan~?"

Shiro was completely still.

Wait…

Something wasn’t right.


[End of Fourth Section]





[Sixth Section]

A tense silence filled the air as Ely held onto Shiro from behind.

Something felt off.

"Ouch!" Ely yelped, her voice carrying a cute whine. A sharp pain shot through her wrist. "A blade?"

She glanced down at the fresh cut, a thin line of red trailing across her skin. When she turned back to Shiro—

It wasn’t him.

She was gripping a human-shaped training figure, part of the obstacle course. A blade protruded from its front, hidden within the thick smoke, making it look eerily real.

'I got tricked,' she realized, eyeing her wrist. The cut was bleeding steadily. To make matters worse—

BOOM!

A smoke bomb detonated right in front of her, attached to the figure and triggered by the blade.

"That's unfair, Shiro-chan~!" she coughed, waving the smoke away, though her voice was still teasing. Then she giggled. ‘He’s got more tricks up his sleeve than I thought. How cunning~!’

She tore off a strip of her sleeve, wrapping it around her wrist to stop the bleeding. Just then—

She sensed him.

Then came his concentrated voice from within the smoke.

"Survival Art: Adaptability - Ectothermic."

‘Another Survival Art?!’ Ely’s glowing eyes flickered in curiosity. ‘Just how many does he have?’

It didn’t seem like an offensive technique—more of a literal survival ability. Then a thought struck her.

‘Did he… create his own Art?’

She recalled a past conversation with Siri. Adaptability.

‘If that’s true… then Shiro’s fragile body must have forced him to adapt. He built this Art out of necessity. Shiro-chan is truly amazing!’

She glanced at her still-bleeding wrist. The wound hadn’t clotted.

'This isn't just a high-quality blade—it's enhanced with magic. Not elemental magic, though... something else.' Her mind raced. ‘Shiro really can use magic, but this enchantment doesn’t match any Elemental Augmentation I’ve seen before. Strange.’

She kept her composure and stalked forward, silently closing in on his presence.

'Another decoy?' She narrowed her eyes. 'Nice try, but I won’t be fooled twice, Shiro-chan~!' She stood still and observed.

But the figure moved.

'Eh?! That was him?!'

She darted toward him—only for Shiro to vanish again.

‘Mmm, he got away again!’ Ely pouted.

Then—

A small metallic clink.

A smoke bomb rolled across the ground.

BOOM!

Ely barely leaped away in time, coughing as thick smoke engulfed the space.

‘Another trap!’ she mused, though excitement gleamed in her eyes. "I underestimated you, Shiro-chan~!" she called out playfully. But then, her tone softened, carrying a more serious edge.

"You leave me no choice."

She heightened her already superior hearing, filtering through the noise.

‘Just as planned,’ Shiro noted, crouching atop a vertical log, hidden within the dense fog.

Luring Ely into the obstacle course.
Shrouding the entire area with smoke.
Confusing her.
All of it was intentional.

His fingers clenched slightly. ‘That trap was a gamble, but it worked. The blade… it was infused with my Art other than Survival Art, making it as sharp as a Dire Python’s fangs—razor-edged and quite resistant to healing.’

His nose twitched.

‘She’s bleeding. That means… I can smell her blood. My nose is sensitive to blood.’

This wasn’t just a battle of speed anymore. It had become a test of endurance.

‘She has two choices now—withdraw to treat her wound or keep chasing me while enduring blood loss. Either way, my odds are improving.’

"I think you're over here!" Ely’s voice rang out before she lunged—

Only to grab at empty air.

"Peekaboo! Oh, not here~" she mused, still amused, though her eyes scanned sharply. "I was sure you were here. I heard you so clearly..."

Shiro kept absolutely still.

His Survival Arts were keeping him hidden, but Ely was far from clueless.

‘Her senses are beyond mine—especially her hearing. Even in this blinding smoke, she can detect the faintest breath, heartbeat, or blood circulation.’

He kept listening. One wrong move, one sound, and she’d find him instantly.

"Here!" Ely called again, lunging—

Missed.

‘Spatial Awareness lets me register everything within range. The moment anything enters or exits my perception, I can respond instantly.’

She turned swiftly.

‘He’s not just evading—he’s countering my movements before I even finish them.’

Shiro remained silent, his mind racing. ‘Trickster enhances my speed, maneuverability, and stealth. Normal dashes would make noise—air displacement would give me away. But Trickster allows me to move so fast that even the air doesn’t register me. It may look like I vanish and reappear, but in reality, I’m simply moving at speeds beyond normal perception.’

Ely suddenly halted. She smiled.

'You're really one of a kind, aren't you, Shiro-chan~?’

Still crouched atop the log, Shiro thought back to his journey.

‘My Adaptability's "Ectothermic" was one of many Survival Arts I developed in the depths of hell. Back when food was so scarce, I kept dying from starvation… until I forced my body to adapt like a cold-blooded monsters. This particular skill can slow down my metabolism, heartbeat, blood circulation and breathing and other bodily activities. The same way monsters survive harsh winters through hibernation or summer through aestivation. It was one of the many reasons I survived that hellhole.'

Ely’s glowing pink eyes flickered.

‘Huh? That's strange… I can’t hear him anymore. Not even his heartbeat.’

She wasn’t wrong.

Shiro had silenced everything.

‘Her scent is stronger than before. She’s relying more on hearing now. The smoke blinds her sight, but her enhanced hearing compensates. If even my heartbeat gives me away, I’ll have to minimize it further. A normal heart rate
per minute is between sixty to a hundred beats. With my self-taught skill, I can slow my heartbeat down to 5 beats or less per minute.’

He wasn’t just moving stealthily—he was erasing himself.

But—

Thump.

Ely’s ears twitched.

‘I heard it!’

She vanished—WHOOSH!

Shiro barely had time to react before—

"I see you, Shiro-chan~!"

Her voice was excited, yet sharp.

‘She’s even faster now?!’ Before he could set off another smoke bomb—

SNAP!

Ely’s arms locked around his wrists, securing them firmly.

The smoke bombs were trapped in his hands.

"Not this time, Shiro-chan~!" Ely chimed, tightening her grip. Her voice held victory. "I won!"


[End of Sixth Section of Chapter 5: "The Studious and The Study"]