There were thirty of us in class. Everyone had already stepped into their designated arenas, yet their attention was clearly focused on one place: Yukie and me. Dozens of eyes dug into us from the edges of the field, as if waiting to see whether I would endure or be crushed instantly.

I wondered just how unlucky I could be. Out of thirty students, how was I paired against her in my very first match? There was no world where I could fight her without relying on my cheat skill or something dirty.

But maybe this was an opportunity. I had to face her properly in a real fight, to break whatever fear of her I still carried. Besides, she was forbidden from using her ice powers in this training.

Yukie's weapon was a sword, a long thin blade almost identical to the one I was holding now. The match had technically begun ever since Violet gave the signal, but Yukie had not moved an inch.

I finally spoke, trying to hide the tension in my voice.

"Are you not going to attack me, Yukie?"

She did not answer immediately. Her eyes swept from my head to my feet, studying every change in me. Then, in the same icy tone she used back when she used to torment me, she said, "Why do you keep appearing in front of me? Why don't you just die and kill yourself somewhere?"

The words hit like a whip across my face.

But this time, I did not lower my head or tremble. Instead, I met her cold stare with fire in my eyes.

"I am not going to die, Yukie. Not before I make you pay for everything. Every insult, every beating, every moment you tortured me."

Her eyebrow lifted slightly, surprised by my defiance. But the expression vanished quickly.

"So you finally have a little courage. Do you think anything has changed just because you awakened?" She stepped closer, her voice lowering into something needle-sharp.

"You are still the same pathetic person. Even now I can see your body trembling just from looking into my eyes. Maybe I need to remind you how to behave."

Her words irritated me, but I forced myself to stay calm. Deep down, I scoffed at her, remembering how that same filthy mouth of hers had just been wrapped around my dick earlier, swallowing my seed.

I took a basic stance, left foot forward, both hands gripping my sword at my side. What surprised me was that Yukie mirrored the exact same stance. She was serious. She was not underestimating me at all, even though she knew I had only just awakened.

That only made this fight harder.

We waited.

Neither of us moved.

Neither of us breathed too loudly.

The air froze between us until Yukie realized that I would not make the first move.

She stepped forward casually, then in an instant delivered a simple diagonal slash from the right.

CLANG.

I blocked it, my body pushed back a little. I countered with a quick horizontal slash, trying to ride the momentum, but Yukie stepped aside effortlessly, dodging as easily as breathing.

We clashed immediately.

KLANG. KLANG. TING.

One step from her forced three steps backward from me. She was pushing me relentlessly, and of course she was. She had always been the strongest in class.

What was unusual was that I was not collapsing instantly.

I moved. I defended. I even slipped in small counterattacks, enough to force her to adjust her rhythm. Our swords collided again and again, throwing sparks into the air.

The others began to notice. Even in the middle of their own fights, they kept glancing our way in disbelief.

"W-what… Adam is holding his own against Yukie?"

"Since when can he use a sword like that?"

"Was he secretly training all this time?"

"..."

They seemed to forget something.

I was the son of the Sword Saint. My father's blood flowed in my veins.

Even so, I was still struggling. Every time our blades met, her strength and technique pushed me further back. She did not hold back at all. If anything, she was becoming even more brutal.

Every strike was meant to crush my resolve, to force me back into the old Adam: weak, silent, obedient.

Her blade swept low. I blocked it. She rotated her wrist, pressed down from above. I blocked again. She slid left with footsteps that barely made a sound and thrust straight at me. I twisted my body to avoid it.

But the wounds began to pile up. Cuts along my arm, a tear on my shoulder, a few shallow stabs that burned and throbbed with pain.

What confused me most was how similar our styles were.

Our footwork matched. Our swings had the same angles. The way we shifted our weight, rotated our hips, raised our elbows—everything was identical. As if we had been trained by the same teacher. Or practiced the same sword style.

The people around us started to notice it too. Whispers spread across the field, and Violet narrowed her eyes at us.

"Their movements are the same," one student muttered.

"But Yukie's are cleaner and more natural," another said.

There was only one problem.

Our style might be the same, but our skill levels were not.

Yukie was far faster than me.

Sharper in her execution.

More efficient in every motion.

Yukie then changed her attack pattern. Instead of constant pressure, she took a step back as if giving me space. I, now accustomed to the previous rhythm, reflexively stepped forward to fill the gap.

But suddenly, she swung her sword downward as if for a vertical strike. I reflexively parried from above… but it was a feint. Mid-swing, her movement changed sharply, twisting as her blade rose again in a narrow, unpredictable arc I hadn't foreseen.

SLASH!

A hot line tore across my face.

I felt blood flow from near my temple, then the world on my right side went completely dark. My consciousness instantly knew: one of my eyes was gone.

"AAAAH!" I cried out, unable to suppress it.

But Yukie did not stop.

As her blade descended, she twisted her hips and brought the attack lower. A flash of metal sliced toward my wrists.

CRACK—SLASH!

Her sword cut clean through both of them. A burning heat shot up my arms, followed by numbness and then an explosion of pain.

Both my hands were severed. My sword dropped to the ground with a dull thud. I fell to my knees, overwhelmed by agony.

"STOP!" Violet shouted, sprinting toward us.

But before she reached us, Yukie was already standing in front of me. Her cold eyes bored into me, waiting for me to return to the weak, submissive Adam she had broken before. Waiting for me to bow my head, beg for mercy, cry in fear.

But no. Not this time.

With strength I did not know I still had, I lifted my head. Blood poured from my injured left eye, but my remaining eye locked onto hers with blazing hatred. My lips curled into a bitter smile as I faced her stare with absolute resolve.

"I am… not… done… with you…" I hissed through clenched teeth.

Yukie froze.

For the first time, her face did not remain expressionless. There was something there. Annoyance? Surprise? Fear?

I did not know and I did not care.

One thing was certain.

I would never be the Adam she destroyed ever again.

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