The sun hung high above the training field, its rays baking the ground beneath a crisp blue sky. Today was the long-dreaded day: the Physical Education endurance test.

  A marathon.

  Ethan stood with the rest of the css near the starting line, already feeling his legs ache in anticipation. He gnced to the side and saw Oliver stretching nervously. Daniel, of course, looked like he was born for this—grinning and chatting with a few of the girls as if they weren’t about to run their lungs out.

  Professor Rhea stood ahead of the group, arms crossed, eyes sharp. Her crimson ponytail shimmered in the light like fire, and her toned arms flexed each time she adjusted her clipboard.

  "Listen up!" she barked, silencing the chatter in an instant. "This isn’t a race. But that doesn’t mean you can sck off. This is a test of endurance. Everyone must finish. No excuses."

  A collective groan rippled through the students.

  Ethan took a deep breath, trying to calm the unease boiling in his stomach. He already knew how this would go. For the past month, he’d trained hard—ran every day, pushed through the soreness—but despite all his effort, he hadn’t improved. At all.

  It was like his body had a limit, one that wouldn’t budge no matter how much sweat he poured into it.

  He had even approached Professor Rhea privately about it. Her answer had been as blunt as her attitude.

  "Don’t sck off just because results take time. Some people grow faster. Doesn’t mean you get to quit."

  But he could tell something was off. She had hesitated. There was something she wasn’t telling him.

  "Line up!" she called out.

  The students filed into pce.

  Ethan positioned himself near the back, not because he wanted to—but because he knew that’s where he’d end up anyway.

  A sharp whistle cut through the air, and the test began.

  The crowd surged forward, feet pounding the packed earth. Daniel took off near the front with a confident stride, while Oliver stayed close to Ethan’s side, panting quietly even though they had barely begun.

  One p. Two ps. Three.

  By the fourth p, Ethan’s legs felt like sandbags.

  "Ugh… My male pride wants me to keep going, but my legs are filing an official compint," he muttered, sweat already dripping down his face.

  Oliver let out a wheeze beside him. "I feel like I’m gonna die…"

  Meanwhile, Daniel was practically jogging. That bastard. Not even breathing hard.

  Ethan gritted his teeth as he started falling further behind. One by one, the students overtook him. Even Oliver managed to push a little farther ahead.

  Despite all his efforts over the past month, here he was… in st pce.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  The thought rang bitterly in his head. He wasn’t zy. He trained. He worked. He tried.

  But nothing ever changed.

  Even the zy stories from his previous life had more character growth than he did right now.

  Still, he didn’t stop.

  Lap after p, breath ragged, vision blurry. He kept moving. His legs screamed in protest, his arms filed for bance, but he didn’t stop.

  "One! Two!" he gasped aloud, trying to will his body forward.

  Every step echoed in his mind like a hammer against stone.

  People had already finished. Others were rexing, drinking water, watching the stragglers. Oliver had finished too, colpsing in the shade.

  And Ethan… was still running.

  Noon passed.

  Then came afternoon.

  The sky turned orange, the shadows stretched long across the field. And still, Ethan ran.

  A dull throb pulsed in his ears. His heart felt like it was about to punch through his chest. His legs—numb and trembling—moved only by instinct.

  He didn’t even remember why he was trying so hard. He didn’t want to be an adventurer. That had never been the goal.

  So why?

  Why did he keep pushing forward?

  There was no answer. Just… movement.

  Instinct.

  Resolve.

  A drive buried somewhere deep in his soul.

  Finally, as the sun dipped low into the horizon and a faint crimson hue painted the sky…

  He saw it.

  The finish line.

  One more step.

  And another.

  Then—

  Puff.

  Everything went dark.

  When Ethan woke up, it was to the all-too-familiar sight of white curtains, potion bottles, and the faint medicinal scent that clung to the infirmary like a stubborn fog.

  He groaned softly, blinking away the haze in his vision, only to catch voices—sharp and rising—from behind the curtain beside his bed.

  "Don’t tell me to calm down, Alric! You saw it! He ran himself to colpse! His body can’t grow, no matter how much he trains!" Professor Rhea’s voice was livid, crackling with frustration.

  Professor Alric’s dry, unimpressed tone followed. "Of course I saw it. Doesn’t mean yelling at me will make a miracle happen."

  "You’re the healing expert! There has to be something we can do!"

  "There isn’t," Alric said ftly. "I already expined this to you. Unless the boy dies and trains in dark magic, nothing will change."

  Ethan’s breath hitched.

  They’re talking about me.

  That single realization filled him with cold crity. They knew what was wrong. They’d known all along.

  He gritted his teeth and pushed himself up, ignoring the dull ache through his limbs. His hand yanked back the curtain, revealing the two professors mid-argument.

  Rhea froze mid-sentence, pale as a ghost. Alric, on the other hand, just raised a brow and sighed.

  "You're not supposed to be up," Alric muttered. "But since you're here..."

  Ethan stared them both down, his voice steady despite his exhaustion. "Please. Just expin it to me. What’s wrong with me? And why do I need dark magic to fix it?"

  Professor Rhea opened her mouth to object, but Alric cut in smoothly.

  "Boy, your body is tangled up in curses. Layers of them. It’s like a twisted ball of thread no one else can unravel. No potion, no spell, no miracle healer can fix you from the outside. But—if you learn dark magic, if you can manipute the death mana that’s locking the curses in pce... you might be able to loosen those threads yourself."

  Rhea stepped forward, visibly distressed. "Professor Alric, you’re oversimplifying! It’s far more complicated than that!"

  Alric shrugged. "Is it? Not in my book. The kid learns, breaks his own curses, and walks away. Problem solved."

  "Learning dark magic is forbidden by w!" Rhea snapped. "Even if we ignore the consequences—who’s going to teach him? And what happens if someone finds out?"

  Alric grinned, tapping his cane. "Rex. I’ve got a candidate in mind."

  "You make it sound like you’re a dark mage!"

  Alric chuckled, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Dark mage? Hah! It’s been decades since anyone called me that. I prefer schor. One who seeks the truth, regardless of where it hides. Some truths lie in the light... and others, in shadow."

  Rhea narrowed her eyes. "So that's it. You’re grooming him to be your successor."

  "Wrong again, dear girl. I already have a successor. A little devil more promising than you could imagine. This boy? He's his own case. Now—" He turned to Ethan, his tone suddenly serious. "What do you want to do?"

  "STOP!" Rhea cut in. "You can’t just ask him that! He’s a student!"

  Alric gave her a look. "He’s a human being with the right to choose. That’s more important than any bel."

  Ethan, still trying to make sense of it all, looked between them. "Sorry... I’m confused. Can you expin again? What are my choices?"

  Alric didn’t miss a beat. "Simple. You die… or you learn dark magic."

  "...What?"

  Alric gestured casually. "We kill you—temporarily, mind you. Death wipes away the curses. Then we bring you back using a specialized ritual. You’ll be free of the curses… with a few side effects."

  Rhea bnched. "That’s insane!"

  Ethan stared at him, appalled. "Yeah… I’d rather not die, thanks."

  Alric smiled. "Thought so. Then your only other option is to learn dark magic. Sign here"—he produced a form from seemingly nowhere—"and report to my office on Sundays."

  Rhea stepped between them. "Ethan, listen to me. Learning dark magic is illegal. If anyone finds out, you could be imprisoned—or worse, used by someone as a tool!"

  Ethan frowned. "Is there any way someone can tell if I know dark magic?"

  Alric shrugged. "Not unless you’re sloppy. Dark magic doesn’t leave a mark. No glow, no brand, nothing. Use it discreetly, and no one will know."

  "...So there’s no side effect?"

  "Not unless you start raising corpses in the town square. And something tells me you're not that kind of fool."

  Ethan fell quiet for a moment.

  Then he reached forward and took the pen.

  "Then, please teach me Dark Magic."

  Hearing my words Professor Rhea turned pale while Professor Alric smiled.

  The silence sted less than a second before the fight between the two Professors broke out again, but now that my own stance was clear Professor Rhea started losing ground until finally she relented on the conditions that she herself reviewed all content that would be taught to me and reserved the right to ban any content she judged inappropriate.

  Ethan stepped out of the infirmary, the crisp afternoon air brushing against his face like a wake-up call.

  His limbs still ached faintly, but nothing compared to the absolute exhaustion that had colpsed him just hours ago. Thanks to the potions—and maybe sheer stubbornness—he felt like himself again. Maybe even better.

  More importantly, his mind buzzed.

  A curse... it was a curse all along...

  He clenched his fist, staring at it as though it were something new. For so long, he had believed he was just weak. That his body didn’t respond. That no matter how hard he worked, he'd never catch up.

  But now he knew.

  He was cursed—eightfold. And buried in that terrifying truth was something else: hope.

  He wasn’t broken.

  He could fight back.

  As long as I master Dark Magic... I can beat this. I can stand on equal ground with the others.

  His pace quickened, a strange lightness pushing him forward as he crossed the Academy courtyard. The red evening light painted long shadows across the stones. Students moved here and there, heading to dinner or back to their dorms.

  That’s when he spotted Daniel.

  Standing in the middle of the walkway, Daniel was animatedly talking to two girls—both second-years by the look of their uniforms. One had long red hair tied in a ponytail, bright green eyes and a lean, muscur build, while the other had silver-blonde braids, sharp golden eyes and a casual air about her despite her athletic build. They ughed at something he said, though one of them—the Silver-blonde one—looked more annoyed than amused.

  "Ethan! Perfect timing!" Daniel waved him over like he’d been expecting him.

  Ethan blinked, startled. “Eh? What’s going on?”

  Daniel slung an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into the group.

  “Ethan, meet Cra and Fiona! I was inviting them on a double date, but they told me two guys were required. And guess what? You’re here! It’s fate!”

  “…What.”

  Cra looked like she wanted to melt into the ground. “We weren’t serious, Daniel. That was a joke.”

  “Too te,” Fiona chimed in, smirking. “You said it only if there were two guys, and here we are.”

  Cra gred at her. “You were supposed to back me up.”

  “Sorry,” Fiona shrugged. “It’s been a boring week.”

  Ethan stood stiffly, overwhelmed by the chaos he’d just been thrown into. “I… uh… I guess I don’t mind. If it’s just a café visit…”

  Daniel beamed. “See? The man’s in.”

  And somehow, just like that, Ethan found himself swept away into town, completely unprepared for the turn his day had taken.

  Fifteen Minutes Later – A Cozy Café Near the Market

  “…And now we’re here,” Ethan muttered to himself, seated at a corner table with a cup of tea in front of him.

  Fiona and Cra sat across from him, with Daniel lounging beside Ethan like he owned the pce.

  “So,” Fiona said, stirring her drink, “first years, huh? Which css?”

  “Healer,” Ethan answered casually.

  Daniel puffed out his chest and grinned. “Warrior.”

  Ethan didn’t even look up from his teacup. “No, he’s not. He’s a Healer too.”

  Daniel froze.

  Fiona blinked. Cra raised an eyebrow.

  “I—I mean—technically, yeah,” Daniel stammered. “But I train with swords! You’ve seen me, Ethan!”

  “You can barely hold a sword for more than five minutes without compining your arms hurt,” Ethan replied with a ft look.

  Fiona burst out ughing, nearly spilling her drink.

  Cra shook her head, smirking. “A Healer trying to py Warrior, huh? That’s cute.”

  Daniel slouched a little in his seat, grumbling under his breath. “Traitor…”

  “Don’t try to show off next time and you won’t get caught,” Ethan said with a grin.

  “Ugh… you’re the worst wingman.”

  “And you’re the worst liar,” Ethan shot back.

  The table erupted in ughter again, even Cra letting out a small chuckle despite herself.

  Daniel sighed and sank further into his chair. “Fine, fine. I’m a Healer. But I still think swords are cool.”

  “You can be a cool Healer,” Fiona said, resting her chin on her hand. “Just don’t pretend to be something you’re not.”

  “Exactly,” Cra added. “Confidence is good. But honesty’s better.”

  Daniel muttered something about being “ambushed on all sides,” but the mood remained light, the ughter lingering as the conversation moved on.

  "So, what about you two? Swordmen, I presume?" Daniel asked.

  Cra nodded. “Indeed—Warrior Css. Second year. We just got back from a goblin subjugation quest this morning.”

  “Really?” Ethan leaned in. “How was it?”

  Cra frowned. “Messy. Seven goblins had holed up in a barn on a farm just south of town. We had to sweep the whole area. I led the assault, Fiona fnked. Clean and fast.”

  Fiona grinned. “Not too fast. One of them ran for it. I had to throw my sword to stop him.”

  Daniel whistled. “You threw your sword?”

  Fiona winked. “Didn’t miss.”

  “That’s kind of amazing…”

  “They’re like roaches,” Cra muttered. “You kill a batch, more show up. No matter how many we put down, there’s always another nest hiding nearby.”

  “I heard they multiply fast,” Ethan said.

  Fiona nodded. “Yeah. First time I ever saw a goblin, I was with my uncle’s hunting party. We were tracking a group that’d made a nest in an old well. I was just there to carry supplies, but…”

  She paused, her gaze distant.

  “One of them came at me. I barely managed to raise my shield. Thought I was dead, honestly. My uncle pulled me out, but that goblin left a scar on my arm.” She lifted her sleeve to reveal a faint white line just under her elbow.

  Daniel leaned back and grinned. “Man, you girls are cooler than most of the guys in our year.”

  Cra huffed. “Obviously.”

  “Speaking of goblins,” Daniel said, gncing at Ethan. “We’ll be dealing with them in Monster Biology tomorrow, right?”

  “Oh, right,” Ethan perked up. “Yeah, we just finished a marathon earlier today. Tomorrow’s goblins… Any tips?”

  Fiona leaned forward. “If you’re dealing with a live one, go for the neck or stomach. Avoid the head—it’s tougher than it looks.”

  Cra added, “And never let them get behind you. They’ll use anything they can as a weapon—rocks, cws, even other goblins.”

  Ethan nodded, remembering these were exactly the same advice he heard in css.

  Daniel straightened up in his chair with a grin that could only mean trouble.

  “Well, goblins are boring!” he decred, waving a hand dramatically. “Let me tell you about the time I participated in a raid against a kobolt settlement!”

  Fiona perked up, curious. Cra leaned back, arms crossed but listening. Ethan just raised an eyebrow, knowing better than to trust Daniel’s stories blindly.

  “It was st year,” Daniel began, his voice dropping slightly as if conjuring an epic tale. “There’d been reports of kobolts taking over an abandoned mining vilge at the edge of the western ridge. So, a group of seasoned adventurers organized a raid—and I, being the brave and generous soul I am, volunteered to help.”

  Fiona leaned in slightly. “You were there for real?”

  “Absolutely,” Daniel nodded. “The captain of the squad was a woman named Raska Ironwind—a beastkin with a hammer twice her size. She led the charge without fear. The warriors stormed the front with steel and fme, smashing kobolt defenses. The mages stayed back, casting fire spells to block escape routes.”

  He gestured broadly, mimicking explosions with his hands.

  “The kobolts fought back, of course—desperate little beasts. They used slings, smoke bombs, even had a few traps set around the vilge. But it wasn’t enough. Our forces pushed through, house by house. By the end, not a single kobolt was left breathing.”

  There was a short silence after his vivid retelling. Cra narrowed her eyes.

  “And what did you do, exactly?”

  Daniel blinked.

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you. In all that glory and chaos… what were you doing?”

  Daniel scratched the back of his neck and let out a sheepish chuckle.

  “Well, technically speaking... I was, uh… observing. From a safe distance.”

  Fiona squinted. “So… you just watched?”

  “I was twelve!” Daniel defended himself. “I wasn’t allowed to fight, okay!? But I was there! And I cheered really hard!”

  Cra snorted. “So you were the moral support.”

  Daniel groaned. “You people are ruthless.”

  Ethan grinned. “Says the guy who tried to pass as a warrior ten minutes ago.”

  More ughter followed, lightening the mood once again as the group continued to talk. Despite his dramatics, Daniel’s energy kept the table alive, even if the details of his heroic tale were more imaginative than factual.

  Daniel, still red from embarrassment and stung by the ughter, crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at Ethan. “Fine, smart ass,” he huffed. “Your turn now. Tell us one story.”

  Ethan blinked. “Huh? Me?”

  “Yeah, you. Let’s hear about your epic adventure.”

  The two girls turned their attention to him with amused smiles. Caught in the spotlight, Ethan scratched his cheek and gave a soft, nervous chuckle.

  “Well, I don’t have any big battle stories like you three,” he admitted. “I mean, I lived in a small farming vilge... not much happened there.”

  “Even small vilges have stories,” Fiona said kindly.

  Ethan nodded, eyes drifting toward the table as he began to speak. “There was this one time, when I was a kid… I must’ve been around seven. I snuck out with someone—though I can’t remember who it was—and we wandered into the forest. Pretty deep, too. I remember trees so tall they blocked out the sun, and then… a cave.”

  The table grew quiet.

  “There was something strange inside,” he continued slowly. “A… statue, I think? Big. Old. Broken. But…”

  He frowned.

  “…who broke it? Did I break it? No… no, it wasn’t me, was it? Someone else?”

  His voice trailed off. He stared bnkly at the table, expression growing tense. A sharp pulse of pain shot through his skull. He winced and pressed his fingers to his temple.

  “Ethan?” Cra leaned forward, concerned.

  He didn’t respond.

  The more he tried to focus on the memory, the more it slipped away—like water through his fingers. A dull throbbing filled his head, and his skin turned a shade paler.

  “Hey.” Daniel’s tone shifted, calm but firm. “It’s fine, man. You can tell the story another time.”

  Ethan blinked, coming back to his senses.

  Daniel gave him a light jab with his elbow and grinned. “Anyway, I’m starving. First date and all, right? I said I’d pay, didn’t I? So enjoy yourselves, dies. Order whatever you want.”

  Fiona’s eyes lit up. “Even that triple-yer chocote cake?”

  Daniel’s grin faltered slightly upon seeing the price. “Uh— Of course!”

  “Thanks, Daniel,” Cra added with a sly smile. “I’ll take the fruit tart tower.”

  Ethan gave a short ugh, finally recovering from the strange headache. “Maybe I should ask something as well!”

  Daniel tried whispering in a desperate voice "Please spare me!"

  But his voice was not low enough, making everybody ugh.

  Night fell, painting the cobbled streets of the city in hues of amber and shadow. The small café near the market square was beginning to quiet, the mps casting a warm glow through its windows.

  The four of them—Ethan, Daniel, Cra, and Fiona—stepped out into the cooling night air.

  “Well,” Fiona stretched her arms above her head, clearly satisfied, “that was fun. Free food and good company? What a luxury.”

  Cra smirked. “Let’s do it again sometime—if you’re footing the bill again, of course.”

  Daniel ughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Y-Yeah, sure! Anytime!”

  Ethan gave a tired chuckle, but said nothing. He had a bad feeling forming in his gut.

  The two girls waved and strolled away into the evening, chatting between themselves, their ughter echoing down the quiet street.

  Ethan and Daniel remained behind, waiting by the café door as the waiter returned with a slip of parchment in hand.

  “Here’s your bill, sirs.”

  Daniel snatched it up and read it—then froze.

  “Uh…”

  Ethan raised an eyebrow. “What’s the damage?”

  Daniel turned to him slowly, like a man about to confess a crime. “So… funny story. I may have… slightly underestimated how much all of that would cost.”

  Ethan narrowed his eyes. “How much, Daniel?”

  Daniel grinned weakly and turned the parchment toward him.

  Ethan’s jaw dropped. “Four hundred and fifty silver!?”

  “I didn’t know the cake was per piece.” Daniel hissed.

  “We only ordered three pieces!”

  “And don't forget the six juices.”

  Ethan ran a hand down his face, groaning loudly. “Unbelievable…”

  Daniel leaned in, eyes pleading. “C’mon, buddy… Just this once. I swear I’ll pay you back…”

  Ethan stared at him ftly for a few seconds… then sighed and pulled out his coin pouch.

  "How much do you need?"

  "150 is enough!"

  “That's half my damn wallet, Daniel!”

  “I’ll make it up to you! I promise!”

  Ethan spped the coins into the waiter’s hand and watched with a pained expression as the pouch grew depressingly lighter.

  “I’m never letting you pn anything again.”

  Daniel beamed. “Fair. But admit it—best accidental double date of your life?”

  Considering it was his first double date, the answer would be yes, but Ethan didn’t answer. He just turned and started walking toward the dorms.

  “…That’s a yes, right?” Daniel called after him.

  Silence.

  “I’m taking that as a yes!”