Nocturne vs Sol: The First

Somehow managing to escape the awkward conversation with Silas, Quill headed to his room.

Having the cafeteria in the same building was quite efficient, making it easy to retreat to his sanctuary whenever needed.

Lying on his bed, which had become his haven for recollecting his thoughts, he stared up at the ceiling, trying to piece everything together.

'I overestimate my knowledge.'

It was as simple as that.

Something he should have realized much earlier. He didn't need any special [Insight] to understand that his perspective was limited.

The Purple-Eyed Prince was written in the first person, offering only the protagonist Emrys' viewpoint. Everything else—what other characters did or didn't do—was beyond his knowledge.

'Idiot.'

Maybe this was a canon event. Maybe Silas was supposed to talk to Quill Nocturne in the novel.

'Right about now, Emrys should be in a fight with some nobles...'

Another cliché the novel adopted was the envious relationship between the nobles and the protagonist, leading to frequent confrontations over the smallest things.

The nobles would pester Emrys, claiming he had no right to be there, especially not with a high rank.

Unfortunately, narrow-minded people like them never considered that a renowned academy wouldn't simply admit just anyone and most definitely wouldn't mess up the rankings.

So, the fight resulted—or will result, better said—in an overwhelming win for Emrys... which just sets off more of the snowball effect.

'But that is not for me to care,'

Rather, he would have to think about tomorrow.

Professor Mendoza had already mentioned it, but naturally, Quill knew about the sparring matches that would take place tomorrow.

The problem was, he knew he would be beaten to a pulp and ridiculed.

'There is no way I can hold my own against any of them.'

Especially since he wasn't even adapted to his own Gift.

One thing Quill did appreciate was that his Gift was more than it seemed. If used correctly, it was actually a powerful tool.

But that was the point—Quill had no idea how to go about it.

Obviously, he had never had such abilities in his arsenal. What if he misused the sharpness of the threads? What if he miscalculated their durability? What if there were any limits?

So many risks were involved with so little time to find answers to all of them.

Luckily, thanks to his [Workaholic] trait, he was more than willing to practice and train.

His body was already vehemently begging him to do something, anything but just lie down like he did yesterday.

He decided to train in his own room, avoiding the dorm's training facility.

He doubted Silas was there given how Silas hated to train, but Quill didn't want to take any risks.

Just imagining Silas's hyperbolic antics in front of students from different classes was... unsettling, to say the least.

Standing up, he brought out his gauntlet on his right arm.

"Alright, let's see what I can do."

/||\

"Alright, my dear students, stand up!" Professor Mendoza called out loudly, his neatly pressed gray suit looking as impeccable as ever.

It seemed he had a wardrobe full of identical suits.

Which he did.

"As promised, we will start a little sparring," Professor Mendoza continued.

They were currently in the class 1-C personal gym, a spacious area designed to accommodate all 28 students with plenty of room for their activities.

"We won't be doing one at a time since that would take too long and, to be blunt, it wouldn't have much of a learning effect for those watching since you all are beginners. Hence, everybody will choose their own sparring partner, take an empty place, and spar. Though I will keep my eye on you, remember: this is sparring, not a real battle."

With a whirl of his index finger, Professor Mendoza signaled everyone to begin.

'Can't you just assign pairs yourself?' Quill nagged inwardly, already dreading the hassle of searching for a partner.

He noticed how everyone seemed to distance themselves from him, quickly pairing off.

It felt like they were avoiding him, confirming his conclusions.

'Maybe I should take those rumors more seriously...' 

Wouldn't anyone challenge a Nocturne, hoping to win and earn honor?

Normally, that would be the case, but for some reason, nobody even glanced in Quill's direction.

'Well, we are 28, so eventually a partner will show up.'

As if summoned, someone did call his name. "Quill Nocturne?"

Hearing the soft voice, Quill turned around, only to wish he hadn't. "Do you mind being my sparring partner?" asked the redhead, her hair tied in its usual ponytail with a golden bow.

Quill didn't answer immediately. Instead, he looked around, hoping to find anyone else who was free, but unfortunately, everyone was already engaged in their sparring.

"My, are you hesitating, Nocturne? I always heard the Nocturne family was known for their boldness and bravery. But perhaps those were just stories from the past," she said, her tone seemingly innocent.

'And that is exactly why literally anyone else would have been better...'

Violeta Sol.

Like the Nocturne family, known for their powerful lineage of legendary Hunters, the Sol family held a similar reputation.

The Nocturnes and the Sols were rivals, and it would have been best to avoid her completely.

Though Quill didn't care much about the Nocturne name or its reputation—something he seemed to share with character of Quill Nocturne—there would be consequences if he lost a sparring match against a Sol.

Even in a simple sparring match, losing to a Sol would spread through the academy like wildfire, exacerbating the conflict between their families.

Such was the intensity of the conflict between the two families that rumors were sure to spread, even when it seemed unlikely.

"I apologize; it seems I've frightened you. There's no shame in seeking a weaker opponent—"

"There is no need to worry, milady," Quill interrupted, his voice steady and calm. Violeta's eyes narrowed slightly, more surprised by his respectful tone than irritated by the interruption.

'Just put on the mask you know best.'

"There is also no need to seek anyone weaker as I doubt that would be possible," Quill said, his voice dripping with formal arrogance.

The mask of formality was something that had been ingrained in him deeply.

The worlds might be completely different, but humans were still humans.

And it seemed his taunt worked. Violeta's expression hardened. "Such arrogance. But fine, let's not waste any more time. Others are already having their fun."

Quill despised this charade.

The way she spoke. The way he had to respond. The arrogance, the incessant belief in superiority—no, the relentless need to prove oneself better.

'Even in a different reality, I have to put on the same act... What irony.'

Though he knew it wasn't fair to direct this frustration toward Violeta.

She was not like the arrogant people he had known in his own life. She was a heroine in the main cast—proud, but also kind. A loyal ally, but a snake to her foes.

Before moving to a free spot, Quill picked up one of the many practice weapons available. It wasn't anything fancy, just simple swords, spears, and bows for those who lacked or had forgotten their own.

'Time for all those fencing lessons to pay off.'

Though a rapier would have been ideal, he had to make do with the longsword.

Both stood in position.

"Let us start," Violeta initiated the sparring.

'Alright, just keep your distance.'

Unlike Quill, Violeta was blessed with her family's trademark Gift.

Violeta's Gift allowed her to absorb the sun's heat, enhancing her strength, speed, and agility.

She could also harness sunlight to create beams of energy, though indoors or nights she relied on concentrating her body heat to generate intense, melting heat at her touch.

Committing himself to the en garde position, Quill readied himself, but before he could react, Violeta was a blur of motion.

She closed the distance between them in an instant, her speed overwhelming. With a swift kick, she sent his longsword flying from his hand.

"My, it seems like I took you by su—"

Not waiting to miss the chance, Quill threw a jab with his right hand.

His fist shot out, aimed directly at her.

The punch startled Violeta, but she gracefully dodged, flipping backward to create space between them.

'Dammit, it almost felt like she was tearing my arm apart!'

At that moment, Quill realized that it wasn't just that Quill's body was well-built; it was far sturdier than a normal human body.

'This is good. I need to be humbled. I need to understand the difference between reality and my fantasy.'

Violeta didn't waste a second, launching herself at Quill again with incredible speed.

Her movements were fluid, almost too fast to track.

"Whoaaaa!" she exclaimed as she suddenly lost her balance and fell hard onto the ground with a resounding SLAM.

Violeta's hands flew to her face, clearly trying to hold back tears of pain.

Meanwhile, Quill tried his absolute best to hold back his laughter.

"Pfffff."

But he failed.

"Ahahahahaha."

'I can't believe that worked!'

Previously, when Violeta unarmed him, Quill had reacted with a quick jab.

He knew he wouldn't actually hit her, but that wasn't the goal. Instead, he had pressed the button on his gauntlet, shooting a thin cotton thread.

After that, Quill only had to let the thread levitate vertically, acting as a nearly invisible tripwire.

To his luck, she was too fast and didn't pay attention to her surroundings. Combined with the thin, barely visible cotton thread, she was bound to fall over it.

As Violeta slowly stood up, clearly in pain, she shot Quill a deadly stare. "You bastard."

"That doesn't seem very ladylike," Quill retorted, a smirk playing on his lips.

He was playing with fire, quite literally.

And he genuinely didn't even know why.

It would have been far more beneficial to befriend her as a member of the main cast. But...

'This is too much fun!'

Adrenaline coursed through his body.

"I admit," Violeta began, returning to her fighting stance. Since she didn't use any weapons, her body was her weapon; she simply raised her hands and adjusted her feet accordingly. "You seem to be wittier than the last time."

'Wait, last time?'

The mention jolted Quill's cool-headed mind back into focus. 'Maybe I can get a bit of information about Quill out of her.'

"Milady, might we indulge in a little bet?"

Violeta's eyes narrowed in suspicion, her form even more concentrated. Taking the silence as an opportunity, Quill continued.

"If I win, you allow me to ask any question, and of course, you can choose whether to answer. And if you win, I will publicly declare you, a Sol, superior to me, a Nocturne."

"Ha, that is very amusing, Nocturne, but do you honestly think people don't know that already? You have done plenty of work for your reputation, I must say."

'This again. At this point, it's certain that Quill Nocturne was a pain in the ass.'

"Hmm, is it that you don't want to, Violeta Sol? I always heard the Sol family was known for their pride and strong will. But perhaps those were just stories from the past," Quill grinned, throwing her own words back at her.

"Ha, really? You think something this child—"

"Afraid?" Quill interrupted, his voice cutting through her retort.

The constant interruptions were clearly making her even angrier.

"Fine, as you wish! We begin immediately!"

If he were honest, Quill didn't know how he was going to win.

He wasn't even sure if it was possible at all.

The first time, sure, luck had been on his side, but it wouldn't work a second time.

But winning the sparring match wasn't his main objective.

Quill needed someone to test some of his theories and attacks on.

If he won, it would be a bonus; if he lost, it wouldn't change anything significant.

At this point, it was evident that Quill wasn't favored by anyone, making Violeta's earlier statement true.

Nobody would care if Quill declared her as better; most, if not all, were probably already sure of that.

Once again, Violeta readied herself for a fast rush, paying close attention to the ground. She started to ru—

"WAIT!" Quill shouted, making Violeta stumble upon her feet, almost falling again.

"WHAT?" she shouted back, visibly annoyed.

"I forgot to pick up my weapon."

"..."

Ignoring her dumbfounded expression, Quill walked over to the longsword on the ground and picked it up.

"Are you sure you'll be able to use it this time?" Violeta asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Well, as long as it's the sword on the ground and not my face, I'll take my chances," Quill teased.

Was that too much? Probably. But Quill wasn't just trying to get on her nerves out of pure mischief, not entirely.

One of the most important variables in a fight, if not the most, was maintaining a calm mind. Emotions could be helpful but also a liability if they clouded judgment.

Making Violeta angrier by the second increased the chances of a slip-up.

Though he was certain that if she managed to land a punch, he would be seeing nothing but darkness.

As they squared off again, Quill readied himself, focusing on his strategy.

He couldn't rely on brute strength or speed, but he could use his wits and his ability to think on his feet.

Without hesitation, Quill pointed his arm in Violeta's direction, pressing the little button through his uniform.

A thin cotton thread shot out rapidly, aimed at her.

Though she couldn't clearly see the threads, it was obvious that Quill was hiding something underneath his uniform.

But it didn't change that the thread was able to reach her, prompting Quill to wrap the string all around her. 

There was one uncertain element, though.

Quill didn't know how much to harden the thread. He didn't want to actually hurt her or, even worse, cause lasting injuries.

But those concerns were moot, he realized, as he saw her right arm quickly melting the thread that had bound it, freeing her from the entanglement.

"You really think that would have worked?" Violeta scoffed as she lowered her arm's temperature.

'Of course, I didn't think that would work!'

In fact, Quill's disadvantage wasn't just the massive gap in experience between them, but also his limited range of movement.

Spending the previous night trying all sorts of techniques, he had quickly learned that he could determine the outcome of a battle before it even began... depending on location and situation.

His room was cube-shaped, allowing him to spread his threads wherever he wanted and manipulate them freely.

He couldn't replicate that here.

The gym was too large, and his control wasn't precise enough, making it a real possibility to accidentally interfere with other students or, worse, injure someone.

"Playtime is over, Nocturne," Violeta declared, her voice laced with determination. She sprinted towards Quill, her fist visibly steaming as heat radiated from it.

'...This is going to hurt, isn't it?'

He raised his arm and shot threads at her, but Violeta moved with astonishing agility, dodging most of them and melting the ones that got too close with a touch of her right palm.

"You know, it's pretty obvious when you aim your arm directly at me," she taunted, her eyes glinting with confidence.

Quill didn't respond. Instead, he stood his ground, calculating his next move as Violeta closed the gap between them with alarming speed.

Her right fist, now a blur of heat and motion, was aimed directly at his face, closing in with deadly precision.

"You were really aiming for my face?"

But the impact never came.

Violeta's eyes widened in surprise as she felt a sudden, heavy resistance against her right hand. She glanced down to see a thin, nearly invisible thread wrapped tightly around her elbow, pulling her arm back.

"Huh...?" She barely had time to react before another thread wrapped around her left elbow, pulling her off balance and bending her body to the left.

'Well, lucky she didn't melt all of them.' 

The threads Violeta had dodged hadn't simply vanished; they had fallen to the ground, lying in wait and ready to be used again.

Quill wasn't reliant on his gauntlet.

Violeta's frustration was evident as she quickly raised the temperature in her right arm, melting the thread around her elbow.

Steam hissed from her skin, and the thread disintegrated.

Quill's mind raced as he analyzed her movements. 'She only heats specific parts of her body at a time.'

The answer was clear: she hadn't yet mastered the ability to heat her entire body simultaneously to create a protective heat armor.

At this point in the story, she was still developing her skills.

Seizing the moment, Quill lunged forward with his longsword.

Violeta dodged the blade, but it was clear she was overwhelmed by the combination of his attacks and her own limitations.

Melting the other thread with a surge of heat on her left arm, Violeta finally regained her footing and swiftly retreated, creating distance between them.

'This isn't good...'

Though Quill had managed to gain the upper hand throughout the spar, it was due more to petty tricks than actual skill.

'If Violeta weren't so hesitant, I would have been defeated long ago.'

Which brought up a critical question:

'Why was she so hesitant?'

The Violeta he knew from the novel was bold and aggressive in her attacks, a perfect fit for her Gift, which excelled in close combat.

'...Maybe she's cautious of the original Quill? Perhaps he was known for being underhanded in battle...' Quill mused, conveniently ignoring that his own tactics during the spar couldn't exactly be called knightly either.

But it seemed like this was it for now.

"Alright, my dear students, let us take a break from the fights. Come gather in a circle," Professor Mendoza called out.

"It seems like you got lucky for now, Nocturne," Violeta pouted.

'...Actually, yeah, I did. I don't know what else I could've tried to avoid getting hit by your damn fire fist.'

"I suppose I did," Quill replied nonchalantly, catching her by surprise as she had expected a different reply.

As everyone joined in a circle, Professor Mendoza began, "I have witnessed quite some interesting things today. Some interesting techniques," he glanced over to two girls standing next to each other, "some very unique ones," his glance wandered to Ophelia Sunshower, who gently accepted the compliment, "but also very surprising ones," he looked towards Silas, who was simply staring at the ceiling, clearly in his own world.

"Unfortunately, also very strange things," his gaze turned towards Sev Sieben, who instantly averted his eyes, "and lastly, also very amusing ones," this time he looked straight at Quill.

"Before we conclude today's training session, I want you to analyze and study the fights of these two talented individuals." Professor Mendoza pointed to a dark brown-haired, tousled student with purple eyes and a stern-looking, long orange-haired young man. "Please, Mr. Caster and Mr. Ivanov, show us a simple sparring match."

Emrys and Luca glanced at each other, both standing in opposite directions, then walked into the center of the circle.

"There is no need to hold back since I will be overseeing this with my full attention. But remember, this is still sparring."

Both nodded, taking their positions.

"Alright, the rest of you, please make some distance."

The circle widened, giving Emrys and Luca ample space to maneuver. They moved to their starting positions, facing each other.

"Alright, begin!" Professor Mendoza shouted.

The atmosphere grew tense as the two students readied themselves, their eyes locked in silent determination.