"Did you enjoy it?" Soren asked.
"Yeah."
They were still sitting at the small table near the cafe window close to the academy, plates pushed aside, the last hints of syrup and butter clinging to the edges.
The warmth of the food still sat in Soren's stomach, grounding him in a way that felt almost strange after the night he'd had.
Soren and Amelia had just finished breakfast together after everything that had happened in the catacombs.
Amelia's expression was the same as always, calm, unreadable, but her ears twitched slightly whenever her eyes drifted over him.
It was a subtle tell Soren had learned to notice; she was watching him more closely than she let on.
"What are you going to do now?" he asked, leaning back in his chair.
Amelia shrugged, a small, loose motion of her shoulders.
"Not sure."
There was no urgency in her voice.
No plans, no long explanation, just that.
It was a weekend; that alone was reason enough for her to drift without a schedule.
Soren twirled his fork between his fingers for a moment, then set it down.
"Do you want to help me train for a little while if you have nothing better to do?" he asked.
Amelia looked at him for a second, as if considering whether he was actually alright enough to say that.
Then she nodded.
"Sure."
He let out a small breath he hadn't realised he was holding.
"Thanks."
Since they were already close to the academy, the walk to the training grounds wasn't far.
They stepped out into the courtyard, the morning light stretching across the stone paths.
The weekend atmosphere was slower than usual: fewer students, muted chatter, and the sound of distant weapons from the Martial Studies side of campus.
The training area they were heading towards wasn't the magical area he usually used for spell practice.
This one was different.
It was the wide, open ground reserved for Martial Studies students, warriors, weapon users, those who put their bodies on the line just as much as their mana.
The area was ringed with weapon racks, sand pits, dummies, and tracks marked into the dirt.
It was a space Soren had grown more used to ever since he met Amelia.
It still wasn't exactly his natural territory, but it wasn't foreign anymore either.
Upon arrival, they moved automatically.
They grabbed their training uniforms from the small changing room, Soren fumbling a little with the unfamiliar clasps while Amelia changed quickly and efficiently.
A few minutes later, they stepped back out, now wearing the academy's light training clothes, looser than their uniforms, easier to move in.
They headed toward the running track first.
The sun was a little higher now, the air still cool.
A faint breeze passed over the track, raising small puffs of dust from the ground.
They began stretching.
Amelia moved through the motions with practised ease, her muscles loose and controlled as she bent and held each position.
Soren mirrored her, copying the stretches he had watched a dozen times by now, feeling the pull along his legs and shoulders.
"What should I do?" Soren asked as he leaned into a hamstring stretch.
"Same as usual," she replied.
He nodded.
'Right. Same as usual…'
Since becoming friends, they had slipped into a pattern without really planning it.
On some mornings, and often after classes, they would come here together.
She would run and spar, he would do his best not to die keeping up.
Somewhere along the line, it had become normal.
'The first few times were hell, though.'
He still remembered those early sessions with a grimace.
Amelia, being a natural battle freak and a genius on top of it, had no idea where his limits were.
She had pushed him until his vision blurred, until his legs refused to move, until he could barely breathe.
Not out of cruelty.
Just because her sense of "too much" was completely skewed.
Back then, he had nearly passed out twice.
But ever since they had talked at the restaurant things had changed.
It was subtle, but he felt it every time they trained now.
She watched him more carefully.
She noticed the slight shift in his breathing, the way his steps dragged, the tiniest tremor in his arms when he was pushing too hard.
And she would call it off just before the line where he usually collapsed.
It was as if she had recalibrated him in her head and could now see exactly how far he could go.
Even when he tried to hide it, she caught it.
Thanks to that, training together had become bearable.
More than that, even.
'Fun…? Really?'
He exhaled and shook his head slightly at his own thoughts.
'What's happening to me…?'
He couldn't stop himself from looking back on how much he had changed since he transmigrated.
The person he had been before would have never chosen to run willingly, much less spar with a gauntlet-wielding monster of a princess on the weekends.
He would've found any excuse to avoid this kind of thing.
Now, here he was, asking for it.
After they finished stretching, they walked over to the starting line on the track.
Amelia glanced at him and raised her hand.
"Three… two… one… go."
The moment the last word left her mouth, Soren pushed off the ground and began running.
Amelia was already ahead, her strides smooth and efficient, body moving like it had been built for this.
Soren… was not like that.
His body was better than before, sure.
He had worked on it.
His stamina and strength had climbed steadily as his stats improved.
But even now, both were still lower than the average adult man in this world.
He knew that better than anyone.
He had been reminded of it repeatedly: running through forests with monsters on his heels, dragging himself across the midterm when his lungs screamed, swinging his axe when his arms felt like they would tear off.
He also knew how important stamina was.
You could survive a slow spell or bad technique, but not an empty tank in the middle of a fight.
And with how often he fought up close with his handaxe now, strength had become just as vital.
Of course, mana and agility were still his main focus; he was a magician first and foremost, and his build reflected that.
But the gap in physical ability was something he couldn't ignore.
"Huff… huff…"
Minutes passed.
The first few laps were manageable, his breathing steady if slightly strained, but after about fifteen minutes, his lungs began to burn more fiercely, his legs grew heavy, and his rhythm started breaking.
His breaths grew harsh, dragging in and out like he was running through thick air.
He could feel that familiar edge creeping up, the point where his body would start slipping out of his control.
Before he could hit it, however…
"Stop," Amelia said.
He stopped mid-stride and stumbled, letting his momentum carry him to a sluggish walk before he finally let his knees give way.
He collapsed onto the ground, panting, sweat dampening his hairline; his heart pounded in his ears.
He lifted a shaky hand.
"Aqua."
A sphere of clear water materialised above his palm, and he let it spill into his mouth, then onto his face, letting the coolness chase away the worst of the heat.
"Rest," Amelia said.
"Thanks," Soren muttered between breaths.
He lay on his back for a moment, staring at the sky.
In the time it had taken him to run two laps, Amelia had run sixteen.
Her breathing was barely elevated, and there wasn't even a speck of sweat on her face.
Her tail swayed lazily behind her, as if this had just been a mild warm-up.
The difference in their physical abilities was overwhelming.
If this had been a couple of days ago, that gap would've dug straight into his pride.
He would have watched her and felt small, pathetic, frustrated at himself for being so far behind.
He would've counted every shortcoming and convinced himself he was useless.
Now, though… he was relaxed.
The gap was still there, maybe even more obvious than ever, but that crushing sense of being chased had faded.
It was like something that had been gripping his throat had finally let go.
Amelia noticed it too.
As she watched him sprawled out on the track, her eyes lingered on his face.
Soren didn't have that desperate edge in his expression anymore; even exhausted, he looked… lighter.
A faint, almost invisible smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
She turned away before it could grow too obvious, pretending to look at the far edge of the training grounds.
She was glad he was doing better.
Soren rested for about five minutes, letting his breathing settle.
The burning in his legs dulled to a tolerable ache.
Finally, he pushed himself to his feet again.
"What's next?" he asked, rolling his shoulders and flexing his fingers.
"Sparring," Amelia replied.
He nodded.
They walked over to a clear area made specifically for duelling practice.
The ground there was more worn, scuffed by countless matches, weapons, and spells.
Wooden dummies lined part of the perimeter, and there were faint burn marks from stray attacks.
As usual when they sparred, they started simple.
They faced each other, a few metres apart.
Amelia's posture was relaxed but alert, her hands loose at her sides.
Soren already knew how this would go: they took turns attacking and defending, never going all out, just pushing his limits without breaking them.
He summoned his handaxe into his right hand, feeling the familiar weight settle against his palm and fingers.
In his left, he prepared to shape mana, his mind quietly visualising the circle he needed.
He waited for Amelia's signal.
"Go," she said.
The word had barely left her lips before he moved.
Soren pushed forward, his mana flowing into the axe in his hand.
The weapon began to glow faintly as he called up the technique he had been forcing his body to learn.
「Einhardt Axemanship - Crescent」
His body twisted with the swing as he drew a clean horizontal arc toward her midsection.
This skill had taken him weeks of trial and error to get right; he had stolen it from observation alone, watching the Martial Studies lessons he wasn't even allowed to attend.
Only after his fight with Alex and repeated attempts had he finally managed to reproduce it with some consistency.
Clang!
Amelia raised her arm and blocked the attack with ease, absorbing the force like it was nothing.
"Good," she said.
Just that one word.
But there was something different in the way she said it this time.
No gentle, forced encouragement.
Just a straightforward assessment that acknowledged he had done it correctly.
This wasn't the first time he had tried to use [Crescent] in their sparring.
In fact, from the moment he first began copying its movements, he had tried to slot it in whenever he could.
Back then, it had been clumsy, unbalanced, half-wrong more often than not.
Now, it was finally starting to resemble the real thing.
Wooongg—
Mana pulsed faintly at his feet.
Normally, after an attack was blocked like that, Soren would have stepped back immediately, putting distance between them to create space for his spells.
Running headfirst into melee again with someone like Amelia was usually a terrible idea.
But now… he didn't retreat.
"「Breeze」"
Light green wind burst under his left foot, the magic circle flaring to life.
Whoosh–!
Soren's body shot forward.
It wasn't perfect; his balance as he moved was unsteady, the force uneven because he could only form the circle under one foot, but it was still a speed he couldn't have reached before.
He launched himself around Amelia's side, forcing her to adjust.
As he accelerated, he began forming another magic circle in the air in front of his right hand.
The glowing lines drew themselves together quickly.
From an outside perspective, it looked like he was about to fire a spell straight at her face.
Shatter.
The circle broke before he finished it, fragments of light scattering and fading.
It had only ever been a feint.
The moment Amelia's attention was drawn to the forming circle, he broke it and swung his handaxe toward her with all the strength he could muster.
He put his whole body into it, the rotation of his shoulders, the twist of his hips, the faint push from [Breeze] still lingering on his foot.
Grab!
Her hand closed around the handle just below the blade.
She stopped the strike cold.
"Time's up," she said.
The restraint in her grip told him she could have countered at any moment.
"Hah… hah…"
Soren exhaled heavily, letting the axe dissolve back into his inventory.
His heartbeat thudded in his ears, but it wasn't the wild panic of running from death. Just exertion.
He dropped to the floor with a rough sigh and leaned back on his hands, drawing in deep breaths.
"Hooo… So how did I do?" he asked, looking up at her.
"Decent," Amelia replied.
Just one word again.
But it felt different.
Until now, the best he had earned from her was "fine."
The kind of thing you said when someone was trying hard and you didn't want to crush them.
A soft evaluation, not a real one.
This time, though, there was no softness in it.
Just honesty.
And because it was honest, it meant more.
Soren smiled, a small but genuine expression that lingered longer than usual.
His efforts were paying off.
For once, he could feel it.
————「❤︎」————