A private training room in the noble's dorms.
There, while mostly everyone else was fast asleep, Roland clutched his blade and stared at a training dummy. "One more time." He murmured and then let out a slow breath to recall that sensation. The Art that his grandfather had used in the past, and that Roland had learned properly in the recreation within that Gate.
*I don't know the truth, Grandson. Whether we were once descended from angels, carry the blood of a brave hero, or were just a talented group of warriors. But, I know this...*
"Master this blade and even fate can be severed..." Roland finished the words his grandfather had said and then swung his sword.
Silver light flickered for a moment before cutting towards the training dummy. The sound of shearing paper echoed... but then it stopped.
"...Not enough still." Roland let out a frustrated sigh and lowered his blade, watching as the training dummy regenerated itself.
Like everything else in Starlight Academy, the training dummy was specially designed by Headmistress Lux. This one in particular was the sturdiest training dummy, rated to be able to withstand a blow up to a Rank 8 spell or strike.
The fact that Roland was able to cut it was definitely praiseworthy. But when he remembered what he saw in that recreation, in the so-called 'Advanced Trial' that was really just what his dear friend Alex had experienced in the past...
"It's far from enough." Roland murmured.
The oppressive terror that erupted from that obsidian dragon. The unfathomable pressure from the single limb that had clawed out through space for the briefest of moments before being pushed back by an unseen force...
"The sky is still too high, Grandfather." Roland let out a deep sigh and ran his hand through his crimson hair. As he did, dried blood flaked and fell down, revealing freshly healed skin.
The Gate had given a proper reward.
Roland had already reached Rank 4 from training since the start of the semester. And now he was Rank 5. A very respectable level and progress for someone who was still below twenty years of age.
Roland already knew that his parents would be ecstatic if he told them. His younger sister, Angela, would be over the moon that her big brother was finally as strong as their father.
But...
Roland let out a slow exhale and raised his blade again. "Not enough. This is far from enough."
If it was before, then yes.
Roland would have celebrated. If he had achieved this level at the start of the academy, or even before going on the Gate expedition with Alex, Roland would have felt proud of himself. But... "Alex had been even weaker back then. And he lived."
The cold hard truth.
Alex had lived through that hell. Somehow, someway, he had survived.
Roland could still remember it. Something Alex mentioned in passing, but now made far too much sense.
'He had just been a civilian. A normal, untrained young man living an ordinary life.'
...Yes. Alex had not come from a family of Heroes or Villains. He did not come from a distinguished family of Mages like Marisa. He was not royal like Evelyn. He did not even come from a third-rate Barony like Roland.
Just an ordinary civilian. One who watched everything he knew and loved vanish. One who saw the Empire fail him. One who saw the Heroes fail to save his family. And one who decided to become the hero who he wished had saved everything he loved back then.
Silver flared around Roland's blade once more. But this time, a faint crimson haze joined it. Roland's blood itself, evaporated from him burning mana through his body to enhance it. "...How can I just sit on my laurels when Alex did that?"
Desperation.
Roland thought he had it. Since his family was a simple Barony, the title wouldn't be inherited. And though Roland would be fine, it meant that his little sister Angela would have to marry into some other nobility in order to secure a proper life.
He didn't want that. And so he trained his body to its limits in order to enter Starlight Academy. To either become a famous Hero who could provide everything for his baby sister, or attain a proper noble title that could be passed on. With that, Angela could be protected from those scheming dastards.
And yet...
"...I wasn't desperate. You were, Alex."
Roland murmured, still remembering it.
That cute, shy, but intelligent young girl. One who was even younger than Angela.
Alex had saved her in the trial. But in reality... he hadn't.
Because at the time, Alex had been nothing. And from nothing, he became who he was today, out of desperation-
"No. It wasn't desperation. It was courage. Determination." Roland let out a slow exhale and the crimson haze began to spiral around the silver light on his sword. "A determination to undo that cruel fate. To ensure it never happened again... and to find her. Right, Alex?"
The sound of a pure bell. And for a brief moment, soft crimson feathers drifted through the air.
But Roland didn't notice it, still thinking of his friend. Of the reckless, almost foolhardy, but undeniably strong friend who threw his very life into the fray with every fight. Who undoubtedly wracked his mind every night to look for any avenue he could improve. Who was a genius just like Marisa and Evelyn, but who had started too late in life and now had to burn his life to catch up...
"...I will help you, Alex." Roland murmured and tightened his grip on his sword. "So that if something like that happens again. So that if you once more risk losing all that you have..."
He swung his blade.
Roland felt his veins burn. He felt his bones crack. His vision turned red for a moment as blood erupted from the overflowing mana.
But-
*sching*
...A smooth and clear sound echoed as the training dummy was split in half and didn't regenerate.
Roland let out a deep exhale as he instinctively cast healing magic on his body, restoring and strengthening it in the process. "...I'm at the door now."
It wasn't the same.
Roland's grandfather had used the Art differently.
In his grandfather's hand, the technique had been elegant. Refined.
What Roland had just done was messy. Chaotic and unruly. But...
"It's fine."
Roland raised his sword again and murmured. "I know what strength really is."
Alex had shown him. Victory was messy. Oftentimes bloody. And even if you won, you could be wrecked in the process. Like Alex had been when he defeated the Rank 5 monster. Like how he had been when he had solved the incident in the mid-term.
The only time that Alex had come back from an incident clean and unscathed had been that Gate. But even then, while physically he looked fine, mentally he must be shattered. So...
"I don't want to be promised victory, Grandfather. I don't want a miracle. All I want." Roland gripped his sword tight enough for his bones to crack and got into a proper stance. "...All I want is to cut it down. That unreasonable future. The cruel past. And the present that says that's the way it has to be. So..."
Again.
Again.
And again.
Roland had to do it. Swing his sword, reproduce that Art, and do it until it was ingrained in his very being.
Because...
'I have to do at least that much when Alex has done even more...'