Training Days

It was an hour after class ended, and Quill found himself among other students in the changing rooms.

Besides the uniform, Sentinel also provided clothing for training.

Like Quill, other students were eager to evaluate themselves further.

After all, Sentinel's system was based on rank—a ranking that didn't only offer better dorms and accommodations but also more opportunities and benefits as starting Hunters.

At this moment, Quill didn't know if he wanted to strive for a higher rank, not that he was sure he could.

He was Elias Rosental, a normal human trapped in a world of superhumans.

Naturally, he didn't have the skills and experience Quill Nocturne possessed, which on their own didn't seem all that impressive.

But more importantly, he needed to defend the rank he currently held.

Stepping out of the changing room, Quill made his way to the personal dorm training area.

It had everything one would expect in a top-tier fitness studio, but more efficient and modern.

The moment he entered, he felt a surge of awe at the sight of the advanced equipment.

The treadmill, for example, was surrounded by a capsule that could simulate different environments, including natural effects like wind and smell.

Quill watched as a student ran inside, the screen displaying a dense forest, complete with the sound of rustling leaves and the scent of pine.

In another corner, reactive fighting dummy bodies responded to impacts with fluid movements, helping to improve one's combat skills.

These dummies weren't just targets; they adapted and countered, providing a realistic training experience.

In one word, it was impressive.

'Focus, Elias. You have to make the most of this,' he reminded himself.

He started with basic drills, his movements fluid and precise.

Despite his worries, his body remembered the training he had received, both as Elias and as Quill.

Each strike, each block, felt natural. But he knew this wasn't enough. He needed to push himself further, test his limits, and find out where he truly stood.

After warming up, Quill decided to practice with his Gift.

He took a deep breath and summoned some cotton threads from his pocket, feeling them respond to his will.

He needed to master control without relying on his gauntlet as well.

He started with simple exercises, manipulating the threads to form basic shapes.

A cube, a sphere, and a pyramid floated in the air before him, the threads weaving and unweaving with precision.

Next, he focused on changing the strength of the threads.

He wrapped one around a weight and lifted it, feeling the resistance as he adjusted the thread's hardness.

The weight lifted smoothly, the thread holding firm.

Satisfied, he let the weight drop and softened the thread, watching it return to its original, supple state.

Quill moved to the reactive fighting dummies, ready to test his threads in combat. He extended a thread towards the nearest dummy, wrapping it around its arm.

With a thought, he hardened the thread and pulled, the dummy's arm jerking in response.

He moved quickly, sending another thread to the dummy's leg, pulling it off balance.

The dummy countered, striking at him with a swift punch.

Quill reacted instinctively, using a thread to deflect the blow.

He felt the impact through the thread, the vibration traveling up his arm.

It was a strange sensation, but he welcomed the challenge. He dodged and weaved, using his threads to block and counter the dummy's attacks.

He focused on precision and control, guiding his threads to wrap around the dummy's limbs, constricting its movements.

He could feel his confidence growing with each successful maneuver.

The threads became extensions of himself, responding to his thoughts and commands seamlessly.

Quill paused, wiping the sweat from his brow.

He felt a mix of satisfaction and frustration.

There were still gaps in his technique, areas where he needed improvement. He knew he had a long way to go, but this was a start.

"Wow, you're pretty hard-working," a familiar voice interrupted Quill's flow.

He turned around to see the blue-haired student, Silas, standing at the entrance of the training area.

'What is he doing here?'

Throughout the novel, Silas was always described as hating training. Quill wasn't even sure if he ever attended the training facility at the academy in the story.

'I guess he wouldn't really need to...' Quill mused. Due to the specifics of his Gift, Silas didn't really need a strong body. It would still be helpful for a Hunter, though.

"...Just some frustrations to let out," Quill said simply, not denying the main reason he wanted to come.

Silas nodded, his usual carefree demeanor slightly more subdued. "Well, understandable after whatever happened yesterday."

Quill felt a twinge of embarrassment. "I'm sorry. I must've made it really weird."

"Mmh, no, not at all. You being gone was for the better, actually."

'Ouch.'

"Ah, what I meant was... eh..." Silas stammered, realizing how his words had come out.

"It's alright. I understand. I've got a lot to change in my life," Quill said, referencing what he had told Silas the first time they spoke.

"Hahaha, yeah, you're right," Silas laughed, though it sounded a bit forced. "Well, I won't bother you any further." With that, Silas waved and left.

Quill watched him go, a puzzled expression on his face. 'Huh. That was weird.'

Not only did the conversation feel forced, but Silas wasn't even wearing training clothes.

Then again, it wasn't a strict rule to wear training uniforms in the facility, but it was still strange.

Looking around to make sure nobody was watching, Quill summoned the blue window. It would have been odd for others to see him tapping the air, but Quill doubted his reputation could get any worse.

Maybe people would think he was going insane, which might actually be a better reputation than whatever he had now.

The blue glow of the window illuminated his face.

He scrolled through the list of available traits, each description offering a tantalizing glimpse of potential power.

After experimenting a bit, he decided on which trait he wanted to choose.

While he hadn't had a real fight yet and wasn't sure which combat trait he would truly need, waiting until one happened might be too late.

Death comes quickly.

[Camouflage]

= A trait not adding anything to your character, but to your threads. Anyone with a keen eye can see your threads, but now you'll be able to hide them as they will cloak themselves with the environment. If anyone can still see them, you'd already be an idiot for initiating a fight with them. You can turn it off at will.

"..."

'Again, the description has a character, an attitude almost.' 

But it wasn't a problem for now, and hopefully, never would be.

Confirming his choice, another window popped up, surprising Quill.

[The limit of 5 Traits in Grade E has been reached. You won't be able to pick a Grade E Trait anymore. Grade D will be available from now on.]

"Wait, what?" If Quill had known that, he would have explored all of them. There were still many he hadn't even looked at.

"Damn it, couldn't you have told me sooner?" he whispered to the window, knowing there wouldn't be a response. 

"Whatever." He was tempted to look at the Grade D Traits bar, now unlocked, but it wouldn't be possible to choose anything yet, so there was no point in exploring what he had to wait for anyway.

/||\

The week passed in a blur of rigorous training and meticulous planning for the upcoming field trip.

Quill dedicated every moment to honing his abilities, pushing his limits with his cotton threads, and strategizing for potential encounters.

The looming presence of Erisa Nocturne was a double-edged sword; her formidable skills were an asset, but her presence added an unpredictable variable to the mix.

Erisa was known for her unwavering loyalty to the Nocturne family.

Quill hoped that this loyalty would extend to him, providing a crucial ally in the challenges ahead.

According to his knowledge and what Quill's grandfather had told him, he hadn't been disowned or anything, making him still a member of the Nocturne family. 

The field trip was a pivotal arc in the novel, designed not only to introduce the Reapers but also to forge strong bonds between the characters.

Quill saw this as an opportunity to mend his fractured reputation.

Besides Violeta, who Quill randomly met outside of class and who stared at him with angry eyes—probably because of their spar and the consequences it brought upon her—he hadn't really been confronted by anyone else.

Not that it was surprising.

He had made acquaintances with Emrys, but that was purely formal. Oliver Arc wasn't even in his class, and Quill didn't speak to him while they were in the same room. Frankly, Sev Sieben was just annoying, and contacting Weiss was simply unthinkable.

Even Silas, who was the one actively seeking Quill's attention, was strangely quiet this week.

'There is definitely something wrong with him.'

He didn't know what was going on, but he was sure everything would come to light during the field trip.

Tomorrow was the day.