Vale stepped toward the white door of the locker room, adjusting the new black compression shirt that clung tightly to his frame. The short sleeves left the maze of scars along his left arm exposed and his mechanical right arm gleamed openly in the bright light, its metal plates shifting almost like living muscle. He exhaled once, wondering if the sight might unsettle people… then straightened, eyes sharpening with resolve.
With a single smooth motion, he pushed open the door and stepped into the gymnasium.
Dozens of students still lingered across the spacious hall, and the instant Vale appeared, the room became heavy with whispers. Their eyes locked onto him, some filled with jealousy, others with fear or irritation. But mixed among them shone admiration, curiosity, even awe. Vale ignored all of it. His steps were calm, even, as he walked toward the center of the gym where Julian, Nym, and Korin were waiting.
Nym had changed clothes as well. Her previous outfit was gone, replaced by white training shorts and a matching compression shirt. The athletic fit revealed her toned build and made her green eyes seem even sharper. She stood tall, arms crossed, a faint smirk curling her lips as Vale approached.
Vale allowed himself the smallest of smiles in return.
To his mild surprise, none of the students seemed shocked by his strange features, at least, not enough to speak up about it. That alone eased a tension in him that he hadn't even realized he'd been carrying.
He stopped beside the trio just as Julian, the short, stern-faced instructor, took a pair of cloth ribbons from his pocket, one red, one blue.
"So," Vale said, keeping his tone respectful, "Sir Julian. What rules will this duel follow?"
Julian held out the ribbons. "Tie these around your arms. Whoever removes the opponent's ribbon first wins. No abilities of any kind are allowed. Pure technique only."
Vale accepted the ribbon and nodded. Nym grabbed the other one with a cocky grin, quickly tying it above her elbow with practiced ease. Vale did the same.
Nym leaned forward slightly, grin widening. "So," she teased, "are you ready to give it your all?"
Vale mirrored her expression. "Only if you prove to be enough of a challenge."
Julian raised one hand between them, his voice ringing across the gym.
"Combatants, are you ready?"
Both Vale and Nym dropped into matching squared stances, muscles coiled, eyes fixed sharply on each other.
"Yes," they answered in unison.
Julian's hand sliced downward. "Begin!"
The air changed instantly. The world seemed to shrink, silence folding around them as the two locked into a state of absolute focus. Neither rushed. Instead, they approached each other with slow, deliberate footwork, testing, watching and waiting.
Students leaned forward in anticipation. Korin's massive frame tensed; he was completely absorbed in the moment.
Finally, Vale and Nym reached each other, and their hands met in a firm grip.
Everything erupted at once.
Nym tightened her hold with surprising force and immediately attempted to pull Vale forward. Vale responded by twisting his hips, trying to flip her over his shoulder. But she didn't move, she was rooted solid, like a fortress.
Vale's eyes narrowed. She pulled him in closer, her free hand snapping toward his face in a sharp strike.
Vale turned his body, letting the blow slide past his cheek by mere centimeters. Dropping his weight low, he dipped under her center of gravity and surged upward, lifting her clean off the floor.
Nym released him mid-air and flipped, landing lightly on both feet. She rose slowly, green eyes burning with challenge and vigor. Vale wiped the corner of his mouth where her knuckles had grazed him, though the grin on his face never faltered.
Their playful expressions were gone. What replaced them was intent, Determination and hunger.
They circled each other.
Vale lunged first, low and fast, aiming directly for the ribbon tied around Nym's right arm. At the last second Nym spun, her movement tight and graceful like a trained dancer, avoiding his grasp entirely. She countered with a powerful roundhouse kick.
The impact struck Vale's ribs like a hammer, sending him sliding back several meters. He inhaled sharply, pain flaring across his side, but he didn't fall. Instead he steadied himself, posture firming, his eyes sharpening even more.
Around them, students gasped. Some whispered in disbelief.
They clashed again.
This time there was no hesitation. Hands darted like vipers, fingers swiping for the colored ribbons. Their feet hammered the ground in rapid steps and pivots, their movements blurring into a fierce and beautiful rhythm. Every dodge, every counter, every shift of weight told a story of instinct and experience.
Nym struck for Vale's ribbon. but she reached too far.
Vale saw the opening instantly and twisted, catching her wrist with a tight grip before she could retract it.
A murmur swept through the crowd.
Nym allowed the momentum for half a heartbeat, adjusting her stance, and then she snapped a brutal kick toward Vale's head.
Vale leapt over it, the wind of her strike brushing beneath him. In that suspended moment he reached for her ribbon, her balance compromised, her guard open,
This was his chance.
And he went for it.
However, Nym had other plans.
The grin slid back onto her face, sharp, mischievous, and far too confident. The moment Vale saw it, something in his gut twisted. That grin never meant anything good. His eyes narrowed, fingers stretching toward the ribbon in a final desperate swipe,
But he was too late.
In a single, fluid motion, Nym spun her body, hooking her legs around his left arm. Her momentum dragged him forward, her thighs locking down with crushing force. It was the exact same leglock Vale had used on Caesar earlier that day, only she applied it faster, cleaner, and with a level of ease that made a ripple of surprise run through him.
They hit the ground in a tangle of limbs. Dust scattered across the polished training mats.
Nym's wicked smile widened as she felt his arm trapped beneath her. She exhaled triumphantly, already imagining the moment she tore the ribbon free.
But then her eyes drifted downward.
And her victory froze.
She had locked the wrong arm.
Vale's ribbon wasn't tied to the flesh-and-bone limb caught between her legs—it was tied to the mechanical right arm that was still completely free.
Vale's grin spread slowly, smug and unhurried.
"Wrong arm," he murmured.
Her eyes widened, but only for a fraction of a second before Vale twisted sharply, slipping out of the leglock while she was still adjusting. He rolled his weight over her, pinning her down with a surprising blend of force and precision. Nym gritted her teeth and fought back with fierce determination, but Vale shifted his center of gravity and pressed both of her wrists behind her back.
Nym struggled like a trapped storm, every muscle coiled with resistance, yet inch by inch Vale overpowered her. With one hand he held both her wrists; with the other he reached forward toward her ribbon.
His fingers brushed cloth.
Nym ceased struggling instantly. Her body loosened as she released a long breath, her stubbornness melting into reluctant acceptance.
The ribbon slid free.
Vale rose to his feet, breathing heavily yet grinning as the adrenaline faded. Nym rolled onto her back and stretched out an arm toward him in quiet acknowledgement.
He arched a brow at her defeated expression, then took her hand and pulled her up, matching her faint smile with one of his own.
"That was a good match," she said, bowing with a rare hint of solemnity.
"Likewise," Vale replied, returning the bow.
But as he straightened, a sharp bolt of pain shot through his side, the exact spot where Nym's kick had landed. The ache flared more than he wanted to admit, sending a thin line of sweat trickling down his spine. He pressed a hand subtly against his ribs, hoping neither Nym nor Julian noticed.
Nym noticed immediately.
"You okay?" she asked, suspicion flickering across her face.
"Yeah, yeah," Vale said quickly, forcing a steady tone. "Just a bruise. You're stronger than you look."
Nym's lips curled into a pleased smile. "Thanks."
Teacher Julian stepped forward, hands folded behind his back. His voice echoed through the gymnasium.
"I declare Vale, the Rose of Skill, the winner of this match."
A wave of cheers rolled across the room. Vale scanned the crowd; the students applauded but none stepped forward. Perhaps out of respect. Or fear. Or uncertainty. He wasn't sure.
Korin approached moments later, clapping with a warm, genuine smile.
"That was a good match," he said cheerfully, then scratched awkwardly at the back of his head. "But Vale should probably head back to his room now. It's getting late."
Nym scoffed lightly and nodded. "Yeah, you're right." Her gaze shifted back to Vale, her expression suddenly complicated, somewhere between concern, admiration, and something he couldn't quite place. "Get your stuff. We'll bring you back."
"Sure," Vale said, forcing the pain in his ribs aside as he turned.
He walked toward the locker room, hearing Teacher Julian sigh deeply behind him, his gaze clearly fixed on Vale's bruised side. Vale only chuckled faintly.
Inside, he moved quickly, grabbing his armor from the counter by the sinks. As he turned to head back toward the door, preparing to leave with Korin and Nym, a sharp whistle echoed from the shower area.
Then applause.
Slow, deliberate, and almost mocking.
"Well, well," a young masculine voice called out, smooth and confident. "You sure are as good as I've heard."
Vale's pulse jumped.
He pivoted sharply.
A tall boy stepped from the shadow of the tiled showers, broad-shouldered, tanned skin gleaming faintly under the harsh lights, and bright red hair falling over eyes that burned with challenge.
Vale recognized him instantly.
Eskar.