Assistant of oni
The training hall was a massive, vaulted space that felt like an ideal place for violence.
Rows of enchanted wooden dummies stood like silent soldiers in the center of the room.
“Adjust them.”
Selene commanded, pointing to a stack of mana-crystals.
“One by one. You need to touch the core of each dummy and sync it to the Academy's main leyline.
It requires precision. And since your left arm is useless, you'll have to do it with your off-hand.”
I looked at the pile. There were at least fifty dummies.
“Instructor… this will take all night.”
“Then you had better start,” she said, sitting on a bench and pulling out a whetstone.
Scritch. Scritch. Scritch.
The sound of her sharpening her blade was the only music in the room.
I got to work.
Touching the mana cores was exhausting
Each time, a small jolt of electricity shot through my body, making my fried circuits scream.
But I noticed something. Every time I touched a core, the System chimed in my ear.
[SYSTEM MESSAGE]
Mana Core Detected. Analyzing…
Syncing… 2%… 5%…
Note: Constant exposure to raw mana leylines is stimulating your damaged circuits. Passive repair speed increased by 0.5%.
I stopped. I looked at Selene. She was staring at her blade, her face a mask of indifference.
Was she… helping me?
Was this “punishment” actually a way to force my mana circuits to heal faster through low-level stimulation?
I looked back at the dummies. If I finished all fifty, my arm might actually be functional by tomorrow.
“Don’t stop,” Selene said without looking up.
“The ‘math’ doesn’t do itself, Casper.”
I smiled. Maybe this world was a nightmare, and everyone hated me, but as I moved to the next dummy, I realized one thing
there was still hope.
Huh-huh.
When I reached about the 38th mana core, I understood another thing.
I definitely overestimated my endurance. These mana-crystals weigh about 3kg each.
Try lifting that with one arm, fifty times, while your mana circuits are being electrocuted.
My shoulder felt like it was being held together by wet tissue paper.
I wanted to stop. I needed to stop. But then I looked at Selene.
She hadn’t looked up, but her blade was catching the torchlight in a way that screamed keep working.
I was terrified she might actually bite me if I quit.
I take it back. I have no hope.
This is how I die: killed by a wooden dummy and a beautiful woman.
I dragged my feet toward the final dummy. My right arm was trembling so violently I had to use my chin to help steady the mana crystal against the wooden chest.
Click.
The 50th dummy pulsed a soft, steady blue. The circuit was complete.
[SYSTEM MESSAGE]
Syncing Complete. 50/50 Dummies Calibrated.
Passive Repair: 18% Complete. Movement restored to left fingers.
Good boyy
Whaat!
I slumped against the base of the dummy, my lungs burning. The silence of the hall was heavy, broken only by the steady scritch of Selene’s whetstone.
I looked at her really looked at her as she sat on that bench.
She wasn’t just a “personality” or a beautiful woman anymore. She looked like a soldier waiting for a signal.
“Ma’am,” I croaked, my voice scratching my throat
The whetstone stopped. She didn’t look up, but the air in the room seemed to get five degrees colder.
“Speak, Casper.”
I took a breath, the words feeling heavier than the crystals I’d spent all night carrying.
“You said it in class. About finding out who will survive the war.
You aren’t just talking about exams or ranking matches, are you?”
I leaned my head back against the wood.
“A war is coming. A real one, isn’t it?”
For a long moment, the only sound was the flickering of the torches. Then, Selene stood up.
And said yes
She sheathed her blade with a metallic shink that resonated through the vaulted ceiling.
She walked over, her boots clicking
rhythmically on the stone, and stopped just a few feet away.
For a second, I didn’t respond.
Not because I was shocked.
Because she had just confirmed something I already knew—and desperately hoped I was wrong about.
I pressed my head back against the dummy, staring up at the ceiling beams carved with old sigils of victory and sacrifice.
I recognized them instantly. I’d seen them before. Not here but on paper.
In the book.
I remembered how many students trained beneath those symbols.
I also remembered how few of them lived long enough to earn names of their own.
“So it’s already started,” I said quietly.
Selene didn’t ask what I meant.
That told me everything.
“The world doesn’t announce wars,” she replied.
“It just starts asking harder questions.”
I almost laughed.
In Hero of Erynthia, this was the quiet arc.
The chapters readers skimmed.
Training sequences. Rivalries. Small humiliations meant to build character.
Moments designed to make future victories feel earned.
Everyone believed the danger came later.
They were wrong.
Later was just when people started dying on the page.
The war didn’t begin with an invasion or a declaration.
It began here—inside the Academy—when instructors stopped teaching ideals and started teaching survival
Of course, the hero survived it all.
No matter how bad things became, he always lived.
Ambushed? Rescued at the last second.
Outmatched? A hidden power awakened.
Cornered? Fate itself bent to give him room to breathe.
If he was homeless, the story handed him a home.
If he was desperate, the world provided a solution.
That was plot armor.
Thick. Invisible. Absolute.
But I wasn’t the hero.
I was a background variable that wasn’t supposed to look ahead.
And now Selene was telling me the war arc had already begun.
Which meant one terrifying thing.
This world no longer cared about following the story.
And if the plot wasn’t protecting me—
Then every mistake from here on out would be fatal.
She looked at my bandaged arm, then back to my eyes.
"The reason I pushed you tonight wasn't to punish you for being a 'plumber.' It’s because the people who fight with 'spirit' and 'tradition' are the first ones to die when the real monsters arrive.
Only the efficient survive. Only those who understand the 'math' of killing stay standing."
She turned away, heading toward the massive oak doors of the hall.
"Go to sleep, louise. Enjoy the peace of the night. Because h Your sleepless nights are coming
I didn't move for five minutes after the heavy oak doors slammed shut. The silence that followed Selene was worse than the sound of her whetstone.
It was a thick, suffocating quiet that made her words—the math of survival echoed in my skull.
I dragged myself upright, my joints popping like dry twigs. My right arm was a numb
As I stumbled out of the training hall, the moonlight hit the courtyard. Erynthia Academy looked different at 2:00 AM. In the daylight, it was a palace of ambition.
At night, with the shadows of the spires stretching like long, black fingers across the grass, it looked like a tomb.
I wasn't alone.
Halfway to the dorms, near the fountain of the First Sage i sensed someone
Then I remembered.
I didn’t have a sword. I had a half-eaten protein bar and a very expensive bandage.
I stood there for a second,
awkwardly clawing at my empty hip like I was trying to scratch an itch that didn't exist.
My fingers gripped nothing but air and the fabric of my academy trousers.
[SYSTEM MESSAGE]
Host, are you trying to intimidate the intruder with 'The Invisible Blade' technique?
The voice was cool, melodic, and hummed with a terrifying amount of natural authority.
Elena von Hestia.
The Rank 1.
She was leaning against a marble pillar, her golden hair looking like spun silver under the moon.
She wasn't wearing her academy blazer,
just a simple white training tunic that did nothing to hide the fact that she was the most powerful student in our year.
"Rank 1," I grunted
What are you doing right now
She stepped into my path. She didn't look angry; she looked... curious. Like she was trying to solve a puzzle that was missing half its pieces.
I was practicing," she said, her eyes tracing the way I favored my left side. "And I was thinking about your 'math.' Pressure and Velocity. It’s crude. It lacks the elegance of true mana-weaving."
"Elegance doesn't cut through shields," I shot back, too tired to be polite. "Speed does."
Elena stepped closer. The air around her was warm a natural side effect of her high fire-affinity.
"Tell me one thing. If you knew the recoil would break your arm, why did you do it? Was humiliating Theo Brandis worth becoming a cripple?"
I looked her dead in the eye. "It wasn't about humiliating him. It was something i proved to my self
A small, genuine smile touched her lips. It was beautiful and dangerous. "Then heal quickly, Louis Casper. Because Friday is coming. And I want to see if your 'math' can survive next friday
