CHAPTER 44: STRANGE DREAM

After that...

Nothing happened.

Leon simply walked away, his eyes slowly fading back to normal as the pressure in the air disappeared. The storm raged on, but the moment had ended. Just like that.

Days passed. Then weeks.

The school returned to its rhythm. Classes resumed, training sessions continued, and the halls echoed with the same mix of laughter, exhaustion, and battle cries.

Squad 12 was no different. Leon, Hiroshi, and Kami trained harder than ever—pushing their limits, sharpening their skills, healing through sweat and silence. Their bond grew tighter, stronger, more unspoken. No words were needed.

Since that day, not a single word had been exchanged between Squad 12 and the student council. It was as if a silent agreement had passed between them—to stay away.

Over a month had gone by. Leon hadn’t seen Lucas. Hadn’t seen Alexia. Not even a glimpse of their shadows in the corridors.

But he didn’t mind.

Some distances are meant to remain.

And some silences carry more than any words ever could.

In Class B’s training session, Squad 12 faced an artificial entity stronger than the one they fought in their previous sessions.

Hiroshi charged head-on, divine art boosting his strength. Kami stayed back, casting rapid-fire spells to restrict the entity’s movements. Leon dashed in close, sword in hand, slipping through openings and striking with precision.

The entity roared, its limbs shifting into jagged blades as it swung at Hiroshi. He blocked with crossed arms, skidding back but holding firm.

Leon seized the opening, sliding low and slashing at the entity’s leg. Sparks flew, but the blade barely cut through.

"It’s tough!" Leon shouted.

Kami’s voice echoed from behind. "Binding Chains!"

Magic chains burst from the floor, wrapping around the entity’s arms and halting its next attack. Hiroshi didn’t hesitate. His divine energy flared brighter.

"Crushing Blow!" He leapt, fist glowing, and slammed it into the entity’s chest.

The impact sent shockwaves through the training hall. The entity stumbled, armor cracking. Leon jumped in next, driving his blade into the weakened spot, pushing with all his force. With a final surge of energy from Kami, lightning burst down, electrifying the entity until it shattered into pieces.

Heavy breathing filled the silent hall. Then a bell rang—training cleared.

Hiroshi grinned, "That was insane!"

Leon looked at his hands. "Still not enough," he muttered, eyes narrowing.

Their combat teacher came forward, clapping. "Nice... nice. Hiroshi and Kami, you did well. Hiroshi, your divine art is a powerful asset, and Kami, your magic backup was solid."

Kami smiled, happy for both of them, but then asked, "What about Leon?"

The teacher’s expression shifted, less impressed. He looked at Leon. "You need to improve. You don’t have mana, so your only strength should be your physical power—and you couldn’t even cut through an entity that weak."

Leon looked at the teacher in silence, his expression unreadable. His grip on the sword tightened slightly, but he didn’t speak back.

Hiroshi stepped forward, his voice calm but firm, "Leon created the opening that let me land the finishing hit. Without that, I wouldn’t have even gotten close."

Kami nodded, "And he didn’t flinch, not even once. He charged straight in while the thing was going wild."

The teacher crossed his arms, not entirely convinced. "Intentions and bravery don’t matter if you can’t deliver results. On the battlefield, what matters is damage—kills, takedowns, efficiency. Courage without power gets people killed."

Leon’s eyes lowered for a second. He didn’t argue. He simply turned, walked outside the combat arena, and reached the garden and sat down in a bench, resting his sword across his lap.

Hiroshi clenched his fist. "Tch... Damn woman doesn’t get it."

Kami placed a hand on Hiroshi’s arm to calm him down. "Let it go. You know...Leon isn’t the type to chase praise."

Outside the combat arena, Leon stared quietly at his sword.

I don’t care if you see results. I’m not here for recognition.

I’m here... to never let another friend die.

After school, Leon visited the ancient weapon store. The place looked as usual—walls lined with various blades and tools—but Miss Tina was nowhere to be seen.

A soft glow caught his eye, coming from the blacksmith’s shed attached to the store.

"Miss Tina? You here?" he called out.

Suddenly—BADUM! A loud metallic clang rang out from the shed. Leon’s instincts kicked in and he rushed toward the noise.

Inside, he froze.

Tina stood there in soaked white clothes, her form clearly outlined beneath the fabric. The moment their eyes met, hers widened in shock. Her face flushed red, mouth opening—but no words came out.

Leon blinked, rubbed his eyes, then quickly shut the shed door behind him.

"Fucking hell..." he muttered under his breath, tossing his dark sword inside. "Sharpen it more. I’ll come back tomorrow and pay."

As he walked out of the Store, he heard a loud scream behind him.

"AAAAAAAHHH!"

He smirked slightly. That was definitely Tina.

Leon reached home and unlocked the door. The moment he stepped in, the silence greeted him.

Right... Nina’s at the Royal Guards’ training sector. She’s probably deep in her academy drills right now.

He made his way into the living room. The walls were painted soft pink, a red drawer stood to the left of the entrance, and a framed painting hung on the opposite side. At the center, a round carpet with mystical patterns lay beneath a set of red sofas and a low table.

Dropping his bag beside the couch, Leon walked into the kitchen.

It was simple, familiar. A washbasin to the left, with neatly arranged knives and a basket of vegetables nearby. On the right, the cooking area waited—quiet, unused since morning.

Leon rolled up his sleeves and opened the spice cabinet, revealing rows of glass jars filled with vibrant powders—crimson tikka salt, yellowish flame-curry dust, and a dark green herb powder known as niran masala. It wasn’t exactly Indian cuisine, but Nina had once said it "tasted like something from another life," and that was good enough for him.

He pulled out a pan, set it on the flame, and added a splash of reddish oil. As it heated, he chopped some sulma root—an earthy vegetable with a punch similar to ginger—and tossed it in. The sizzle filled the kitchen. He followed it with slices of marinated koru meat, tossing them with a wooden spatula until the edges browned.

The smell of spice filled the air—rich, warm, slightly smoky. Leon stirred in crushed flame-curry dust and a bit of water, letting the dish simmer. He reached for a packet of soft miru bread, placing it on the stove’s flat grill, flipping each side until warm and toasty.

Minutes later, the simple meal was ready. Meat curry with heat that settled in the chest and soft, spiced bread to scoop it up.

He sat down at the table, looked at the empty seat across from him, and muttered to himself with a half-smile,

"She better appreciate this when she comes back..."

After finishing his food, Leon washed the dishes with practiced ease. He covered Nina’s share in a magic temperature-pausing roll—an enchanted sheet used to preserve food without letting it turn cold or rot.

He headed into his room. It was small and minimal, just the way he preferred. The bed sat to the left of the door, wrapped in a red blanket over a plain white bedsheet. On the right was a mirror, and beneath it, a drawer desk with a chair tucked in. That desk was where Leon handled most of his homework and assignments. A few books lay open, half-read, and beside them sat a framed photo of him and Nina—one of the few sentimental things he kept around.

Above the mirror, the clock ticked quietly.

Without a word, Leon dropped onto his bed, arms spread, eyes closing slowly. The weight of the day pressed down on him, not painfully—but heavily enough to pull him into silence.

As Leon’s eyes shut, a memory—or perhaps a dream—rushed in like a wave.

The Person stood in a field of chaos, blade soaked, slashing through entities without hesitation.

SLASH!

A brained entity fell, cut cleanly.

"DON’T STOP, CHARGE AT HIM!"

An entity general barked, rallying his army.

The Person turned toward him, eyes glowing pure white. Before the general could even blink—

SWIPE!

His head rolled to the ground.

The Person stared down the rest of the army. He raised one hand, then slammed it into the earth.

"Divine Art: Ha—BEEP—"

The rest of the words were lost, muffled by static in Leon’s mind.

But the effect wasn’t.

A blinding light.

A massive force.

Everything crushed beneath a giant—BEEP—

BEEP! BEEP!

Leon’s eyes snapped open. Morning light spilled through the window, painting his ceiling gold. He turned his head. The clock read 6:46 a.m.

He sat up quickly, breath catching for a second. School.

He got out of bed and began preparing. But the lingering question buzzed louder than the alarm ever could:

What was that spell?

Why did his mind hide it from him?