Chapter 64: Training
Click...
The door closed, yet the sound echoed endlessly in Selene’s ears.
Her chest rose and fell unevenly, her fingers clutching at the sheets until her knuckles turned white.
"...Why?" she whispered again, her voice trembling, almost breaking.
Gray’s touch still lingered on her skin as her lips still burned from his kiss.
Every part of her screamed to run after him, to hold onto him, to demand that he didn’t leave her behind.
But then another image stabbed into her mind.
Her boyfriend... his smile... his voice.
The warmth of his hands whenever they held hers.
Her stomach twisted violently.
"I... I can’t... I shouldn’t..." Selene muttered, shaking her head, yet her body betrayed her, shivering with need.
The memory of that first night came unbidden, the alcohol, the heat, the way Gray’s weight had pressed her down as he claimed her completely.
She remembered the shame, the tears... but also the unbearable pleasure that had drowned her until she passed out in his arms.
Her face burned red.
"No, no, no... I love him. I... I do love him," she whispered, hugging herself tightly, as if her arms could keep the truth from spilling out.
But the truth was cruel.
Her heart beat faster not when she thought of her boyfriend, but when she thought of Gray...
His little smirk, his cold eyes, the way he toyed with her was like she was nothing more than a plaything.
Her thighs pressed together instinctively, her body betraying her again, pulsing with the memory of his hand sliding down her leg.
Selene covered her mouth, her eyes trembling.
"Why him? Why... does it have to be him?" she whispered desperately.
Tears welled in her eyes, but even through the blur, all she could see was his shadow... Gray walking away, leaving her behind like she meant nothing.
That hurt more than anything.
Her boyfriend would never leave her like that.
He loved her, he cared, he was gentle... he was safe.
But Gray... Gray made her feel alive. He made her heart race, made her stomach twist, made her body burn until she couldn’t think straight.
It was wrong.
It was selfish.
And yet, the thought of him never touching her again... hurt more than the guilt.
Selene buried her face in her hands, muffling a broken sob.
"I’m... disgusting..." she whispered.
But beneath the self-loathing, another voice slithered inside her.
Soft, poisonous, and clearly undeniable.
You want him.
Her tears fell harder.
And though she tried to push it away, tried to cling to the memory of her boyfriend, one image repeated in her mind... Gray’s little smirk as he walked out the door, not even looking back.
Her heart clenched painfully.
She didn’t want him to look at anyone else that way.
She didn’t want him to leave her again.
Selene’s nails dug into her palms as her lips trembled.
"Gray..." she whispered through her tears.
.
.
.
.
.
.
After leaving the infirmary, Gray redirected himself toward the training grounds, as there were no classes today because of the exam.
His objective was obviously to try and train the [Nine Illusionary Dream Steps]. Just from the title alone, one could know that there were nine levels.
And if the first level already increased one’s speed by fivefold... what could the other eight levels grant?
Gray’s lips curled into a faint grin at the thought as he reached a quiet corner of the grounds.
Then, he directly read the first instruction.
Step without leaving a trace. Move as if the body is not bound to earth. The illusion must mirror reality until even you cannot tell where you are.
Gray shifted his stance, lowering his body. Mana poured into his legs like rushing fire, his focus sharp.
He clenched his jaw.
"The first move... let’s see it."
He pushed off...
...But his body didn’t blur. He didn’t vanish... and didn’t move an inch.
Instead...
Crack!!
"—Ghuh!!"
A sharp, sickening sound split the air. Gray’s eyes widened as searing pain exploded up his thigh.
His left leg bent the wrong way, bone snapping violently under the sudden, unnatural strain.
Thud!
He collapsed onto the dirt, clutching his leg. White-hot agony coursed through him, his vision trembling at the edges.
"F-fuck...!" He hissed, cold sweat dripping down his forehead.
His hand pressed against the twisted limb, the skin already swelling, veins throbbing with pain.
The manual’s words echoed mockingly in his head.
Do not force it. Do not run from earth; let earth carry you.
Gray’s breathing came ragged, his nails digging into the dirt as he forced himself not to scream again.
"D-dammit..." he spat between clenched teeth.
"So this is what it means to be beyond my limit."
But then, he laughed.
After all... he didn’t expect to be able to use the first move of a god-level technique on his first try.
"...Heh." His lips curled into a sharp grin, teeth stained faintly with blood he had bitten into his own tongue.
"My leg already broke once. It can’t break again, right?"
With sheer force of will, Gray pushed himself upright, one hand bracing his mangled leg.
His face twitched, his grin looking almost insane as he forced himself to stand on trembling knees.
"This damned thing won’t kill me."
He took a breath, then pushed mana down his legs again.
...Nothing.
Just silence.
His brow furrowed, the faint grin fading.
"Tsk... what the hell, did I miss something?"
Gray looked down at the manual again, his eyes narrowing at the pages.
The text was sparse, riddled with vague phrases that seemed more like riddles than instructions.
But at the very bottom, faintly sketched symbols showed the figure of a man stepping light, airy, like he wasn’t even touching the earth.
Gray squinted, studying the small motions, the flow of energy around the figure. The longer he stared, the more he noticed details he had missed before.
"...Wait."
His finger slid under the final sketch, tracing the thin scribbled note beneath. The handwriting was faint, like it had been written as an afterthought.
You can’t direct mana to your legs. Forcing it will destroy you.
Instead... you must coax it. Make the mana willingly gather around your legs. When it accepts you, your steps will be soundless, and your shadow will not follow. The first level...
"Cloud Steps."
Gray’s lips parted slightly, then curved into a quiet laugh.
"...So that’s it, huh?"
"I was trying to dominate it... when I should’ve seduced it."
He shut the book slowly, clutching it at his side, his other hand tightening into a fist.
"Alright... Cloud Steps," he muttered, his grin twitching back onto his face.
He closed his eyes, letting mana slip free from his core, coaxing it down toward his legs.
He imagined it swirling, gathering, wrapping around him like mist. He pictured his steps leaving no sound, no trace... like clouds drifting across the sky.
He raised his foot.
Step...
...Nothing.
The dirt crunched loudly beneath him, his body stiff and heavy, no blur, no afterimage.
Just failure.
Gray clicked his tongue.
He tried again, his breathing sharper now, brows furrowed. Mana swirled, pooled... he stepped...
Crunch.
Still nothing.
"..."
His eye twitched.
Again. Step...failure.
Again. Step and failure.
Again. Failure.
Gray’s lips trembled into a dry laugh.
"...Hah. So that’s how it is, huh?"
His body finally gave out, his leg screaming from the earlier break.
He staggered, nearly fell, then caught himself with one hand pressed into the dirt. His fingers clenched tight, blood from his nails staining the soil.
"I can’t even make the first step..."
For a moment, he thought about forcing it again.
To shove mana until his bones shattered all over again.
But then he remembered, his body wasn’t infinite, and wasting himself here like an idiot wouldn’t get him anywhere.
"Guess, I’ll need to go to the infirmary..."
Gray pushed himself upright, limping away from the training grounds with that broken grin still on his lips.
His leg was useless, but he didn’t care.
In this academy, broken bones were nothing more than an inconvenience.
With the healers’ cursed arts, even a mangled body could be restored in seconds.
That was the only reason he dared to risk it in the first place.
However...
"GRAY, YOU DAMNED FUCKER!"
It seems that Gray wouldn’t get to the cafeteria so easily.
Fwip!
Two axes were thrown towards his way. Gray barely glanced at them before grabbing his rapier and swinging at them.
Clang!
They were parried, falling to the ground, but just as Dexter stretched his hand, the two axes shot towards his hand once again.
He spun on his foot before arching his back as he swung both of them at Gray’s head.
"Sigh..."
Gray sighed deeply.
"[✧Swap✧]"
He switched positions with a nearby rock, making Dexter swing his axe at it.
"Ah... you damned fucker, stop fucking running! You can’t escape our duel now!" Dexter cursed, pointing one of his axes at Gray.
At this point... Gray’s eyes narrowed slighly.
’Should I kill him?’
The thought itched at him.
"...Shadowless Sword Art..."
He muttered absent-mindedly.
"Phantom Sword."
He vanished slighly, as a blur of silver trailed behind...
SHIIING!
Gray’s rapier halted mid-swing, the air shuddering as if an unseen blade had clashed with steel.
For the first time in a long while, his black eyes widened.
"...!"
His Phantom Sword... was parried.
And not by Dexter.
Standing between them, holding a gleaming longsword with casual ease, was a golden-haired man.
His stance was unhurried, his expression calm, but his eyes burned with a quiet interest.
"...What an interesting move you have," the man said, smiling lightly.
Gray’s grip tightened on his rapier as he instinctively stepped back.
His instincts were screaming at him...
’This man is dangerous.’