The fang hound moved first.
Arthur barely had time to breathe.
The creature crossed the arena in a blur of gray fur and teeth.
He raised his sword.
Too late.
Clang!
The impact nearly tore the weapon from his hand.
Arthur staggered backward.
The fang hound landed several steps away and immediately turned.
Fast.
Far faster than it had looked from outside the arena.
Arthur tightened his grip.
His palm hurt.
Wonderful.
He had spent seventeen days unconscious, apparently had no idea how to use this body’s abilities, and had just been handed a sword against a creature capable of crossing an arena before he could blink.
There was also an audience.
Hundreds of students.
Arthur could hear them laughing.
“He’s going to die.”
“Four seconds.”
“Maybe five.”
Someone shouted from the upper seats.
“Don’t embarrass the Vale name!”
Arthur ignored them.
The fang hound crouched again.
Its shoulders lowered.
Its claws dug into the floor.
Arthur watched carefully.
There.
The left hind leg moved first.
The head followed half a second later.
It wasn’t attacking randomly.
It was preparing to launch from its stronger side.
Arthur shifted his stance.
The creature lunged.
He stepped right.
The fang hound passed close enough that its claws scraped his coat.
Arthur swung.
His sword connected with its shoulder.
A shallow cut appeared.
Blood spilled.
The creature screamed.
Arthur froze.
Not from fear.
From surprise.
I actually hit it.
Then the hound spun.
Its tail struck his ribs.
Arthur flew sideways.
He hit the ground hard enough to knock the breath out of him.
The arena erupted with laughter.
Arthur lay there for a second.
His ribs hurt.
His shoulder hurt.
His pride had officially joined the list.
He pushed himself upright.
The fang hound was watching him.
It didn’t rush.
It was learning.
Arthur’s eyes narrowed.
So am I.
He stood.
The sword felt wrong in his hand.
Too heavy.
His stance was terrible.
His feet weren’t positioned correctly.
He could feel it.
Somewhere inside his body, there should have been knowledge.
Muscle memory.
Training.
Something.
There was nothing.
Or perhaps it was buried too deeply beneath the memories of the man he used to be.
The hound growled.
Arthur slowly raised his sword.
“Come on.”
The creature charged again.
This time Arthur didn’t retreat.
He waited.
The hound leaped.
Arthur moved at the last possible moment.
Its claws passed over his shoulder.
Arthur turned with it and drove the sword toward its side.
The blade sank in.
The creature twisted violently.
Arthur let go.
The sword remained lodged in its flesh.
He stared.
That was stupid.
The hound snapped at him.
Arthur jumped backward.
The creature tore the sword free.
Now it was angry.
Arthur was unarmed.
A student in the audience laughed.
“He’s finished!”
Arthur glanced at the sword lying several meters away.
Then at the beast.
Then at his empty hands.
He took a breath.
Think.
He couldn’t overpower it.
He couldn’t outrun it.
He couldn’t even use the sword properly.
So he needed something else.
His eyes moved across the arena.
Stone floor.
Metal railing.
Training pillars.
Chains hanging above the arena.
A maintenance platform.
And—
A small black mark near the edge of the floor.
Arthur’s gaze stopped.
Something was leaking from it.
Mana.
Very faint.
He didn’t know why he could see it.
Then the strange interface appeared.
[GLINT OF THE MONOCLE]
Activation available.
Current proficiency: 0.4%
Arthur stared.
“So you do work.”
The fang hound charged.
Arthur rolled.
The creature crashed into a stone pillar.
Arthur sprinted toward the sword.
He grabbed it.
The hound turned.
Arthur raised his left hand instinctively.
His vision changed.
For a brief moment, the arena became covered in lines.
Thin.
Almost invisible.
Mana flowed through the walls.
Through the floor.
Through the creature.
Through him.
Arthur blinked.
The world returned to normal.
Then he saw it.
The fang hound’s right foreleg had a concentrated knot of mana.
Not its heart.
Not its head.
Its leg.
Arthur understood.
That’s the weak point.
The creature charged.
Arthur waited.
Closer.
Closer.
Then—
He moved.
The hound’s claws passed beside his face.
Arthur stepped inside its reach.
He didn’t swing at its body.
He struck the leg.
Crack.
The creature collapsed.
Its momentum carried it across the stone.
Arthur stumbled after it.
He almost fell.
The hound struggled to rise.
Arthur raised his sword.
The creature bared its teeth.
For a moment, Arthur looked at it.
Then at the audience.
They were no longer laughing.
Most were watching silently.
Arthur looked back at the beast.
It was injured.
It couldn’t fight properly anymore.
He could kill it.
That would be easy.
He lifted the sword.
The interface appeared.
[Conduct Evaluation.]
Target is no longer capable of meaningful retaliation.
Excessive force is unnecessary.
Arthur’s hand stopped.
Interesting.
The system wasn’t stopping him.
It was judging him.
Arthur lowered the sword slightly.
He looked toward the instructor.
“Is the assessment complete if the target can no longer continue?”
Seraphine Voss watched him from the edge of the arena.
“Your assessment is whether you can survive.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
A few students murmured.
Seraphine’s eyes narrowed.
“The creature can still attack.”
Arthur looked down.
The fang hound was trying to stand.
One leg was shaking.
Arthur sighed.
“Then I’ll wait.”
Someone laughed nervously.
“Wait?”
Arthur didn’t answer.
The creature pushed itself upright.
It limped toward him.
Arthur kept his sword lowered.
The hound growled.
Then lunged.
Arthur stepped aside.
He struck the flat of his sword against its shoulder.
The creature collapsed again.
This time it didn’t move.
Arthur waited.
Nothing.
He lowered the sword.
“Now?”
Seraphine raised her hand.
The gate opened.
“Assessment complete.”
Arthur exhaled.
Only then did he realize how hard his heart was beating.
The crowd erupted.
Not cheering.
Arguing.
“Why didn’t he kill it?”
“He could have!”
“That was luck.”
“No, he saw the mana flow.”
“He doesn’t have that kind of perception.”
Arthur stepped out of the arena.
His legs felt heavier than they should.
The system appeared again.
[Combat Assessment Complete.]
Survival: Passed.
Efficiency: 61%
Conduct: 87%
Resource Management: 42%
Combat Knowledge: 18%
Overall Evaluation: 52%
[Result: Barely Acceptable.]
Arthur stared.
“That’s rude.”
A nearby student snorted.
Arthur looked over.
It was the boy who had spoken to him near the ranking board.
The broken nose.
He was smiling.
“You’re complaining about fifty-two?”
Arthur looked back at the interface.
“Yes.”
“You nearly got killed.”
“I noticed.”
“You don’t know how to use a sword.”
“I noticed that too.”
The boy laughed.
“You really don’t remember anything.”
Arthur studied him.
“No.”
The boy’s expression changed.
This time, Arthur saw something he hadn’t noticed before.
Pity.
Not much.
But enough.
The boy looked away.
“Then you’re going to die.”
Arthur nodded.
“That seems to be the popular opinion.”
The boy hesitated.
“Name’s Leon.”
“Arthur.”
Leon stared at him.
“I know.”
Arthur almost smiled.
“Right.”
Before either could continue, another voice cut through the hall.
“Vale.”
Arthur turned.
The boy from earlier stood several meters away.
The one who had shoved him.
Two friends stood behind him.
Arthur didn’t know his name.
The boy pointed toward the arena.
“You got lucky.”
Arthur looked at the broken leg of the fang hound.
“Yes.”
The boy frowned.
Arthur continued.
“Luck is very useful.”
A few students nearby laughed.
The boy’s face darkened.
“You think you’re funny?”
“No.”
Arthur glanced at the clock.
“I’m tired.”
The boy stepped forward.
Leon quietly moved away.
Arthur noticed.
Good decision.
The boy stopped directly in front of him.
“You don’t remember me?”
“No.”
“I was there.”
“Where?”
The boy’s jaw tightened.
“At the west tower.”
Arthur waited.
The boy leaned closer.
“You begged.”
The hall became quieter.
Arthur said nothing.
“You begged me to stop.”
Arthur felt something unpleasant twist inside his chest.
Not his memory.
Something deeper.
The original body reacted.
A flash.
Stone floor.
Blood.
Someone laughing.
A hand gripping his collar.
Arthur blinked.
The image disappeared.
The boy smiled.
“See?”
Arthur’s eyes hardened.
“You remember.”
“No.”
The answer came immediately.
“I remembered your face.”
The boy’s smile vanished.
Arthur looked at him calmly.
“I don’t remember what happened.”
He stepped closer.
“But now I know where to start looking.”
The boy’s expression changed.
For the first time, there was uncertainty.
Arthur walked past him.
Behind him, Leon whispered:
“You’re going to get yourself killed.”
Arthur stopped.
He glanced over his shoulder.
“Probably.”
Then he continued walking.
The hallway outside the training hall was quieter.
Arthur leaned against the wall.
His ribs hurt.
His arm hurt.
His head hurt.
He looked at his hands.
They were shaking slightly.
He hadn’t noticed during the fight.
That bothered him.
Fear wasn’t unfamiliar.
He had felt fear many times on Earth.
The difference was that there he had always known what he was doing.
Here, he didn’t.
He had no history.
No allies.
No money.
No fighting ability.
And everyone seemed to know something about his new identity except him.
Arthur closed his eyes.
“Excellent.”
A voice answered from behind him.
“You say that a lot.”
Arthur opened his eyes.
Seraphine Voss stood at the end of the corridor.
Arthur straightened.
“In my experience, it helps.”
She approached.
“You fought badly.”
“I know.”
“You survived.”
“I noticed.”
“You relied on observation instead of technique.”
“Also noticed.”
Seraphine stopped in front of him.
“Your previous assessment records say you were incapable of seeing mana fluctuations.”
Arthur said nothing.
She continued.
“Yet you identified the fang hound’s mana concentration.”
Arthur looked at her.
“Maybe I improved.”
“In one morning?”
“Busy morning.”
Seraphine didn’t smile.
“You’ve changed.”
Arthur met her eyes.
“Apparently.”
She studied him for several seconds.
Then:
“Be careful, Cadet Vale.”
Arthur raised an eyebrow.
“Of what?”
“People who knew you before.”
She walked past him.
Arthur turned.
“Why?”
Seraphine stopped.
She didn’t look back.
“Because some of them liked the person you used to be.”
A pause.
“And some hated him.”
Then she walked away.
Arthur remained in the corridor.
For the first time since waking up, he felt something colder than fear.
Curiosity.
He opened the interface.
The system was still there.
Quiet.
Waiting.
Arthur looked at his abilities.
Shadow Thread.
Echo of the Parlour.
Glint of the Monocle.
Three pathetic abilities.
One weak body.
An academy full of people who knew his past.
And an identity that apparently belonged to someone Arthur didn’t understand.
He smiled faintly.
“All right.”
He pushed himself away from the wall.
“If I’m going to survive here…”
His eyes hardened.
“…I should probably find out who I used to be.”
Behind him, unseen by Arthur, a tiny golden symbol briefly appeared on the black stone wall.
It looked like a crown.
Then it vanished.
Far above the academy, somewhere beyond the clouds, something opened its eyes.
And for the briefest moment— the enormous creature smiled.
Not because Arthur had survived.
Because he had shown restraint.
[Unknown Observation Recorded.]
[Candidate remains viable.]