CHAPTER 64: COMBAT TRAINING [III]

By the time the finish line came into view, I was no longer running.

I was... existing in some awkward state between life and death. My legs weren’t legs anymore — they were two sticks of boiled pasta that someone had forgotten to drain properly. Every step squelched like they were about to give out.

But giving up? No. I was the North Star. The legend. The unshakable icon. And what kind of star quits before the finish line? A dead one. Exactly.

So I pressed on. My run had devolved into something that looked suspiciously like interpretive dance. Arms flailing, knees buckling, wheezing like a broken accordion. Somewhere behind me, I heard laughter. Somewhere else, I heard gasps. The audience couldn’t tell if I was making a fool of myself or inventing a brand-new combat technique.

Stumble. Wheeze. Stumble again. The ground tilted like it wanted me gone, but I staggered forward anyway. The world shrank until there was only me, the finish line, and the rapidly approaching certainty that my lungs were about to file for divorce.

And then finally I crossed.

Collapsed flat on my chest, arms splayed like I’d just wrestled the gods themselves. Dust puffed up around me in a dramatic little cloud, which I decided was nature applauding.

"Victory," I croaked into the dirt. "Told you... strategy."

Some students clapped. A few laughed outright. One whispered that I must’ve been conserving my strength for a secret technique. Good — let them think that.

Because the truth was, I was too weak to even roll over. My face stayed planted in the dirt, breathing through the taste of gravel. But as far as I was concerned? I had won.

I was still eating dirt when a shadow fell over me. A familiar voice followed.

"...Are you actually dead, or just making a scene again?"

I groaned, lifting my face just enough to spit out a pebble. "Freya... my number one fan. You came to congratulate me, I see."

She crossed her arms, staring down at me like I was something the janitors had forgotten to sweep up. "Congratulate? You nearly tripped over your own feet the entire race. You looked like a possessed scarecrow."

"Ah, but did I finish?" I pointed weakly at the line I’d crawled across. "The North Star does not stop halfway. He burns on, no matter the cost. You should be honored to witness history."

She blinked. "...History of what? Embarrassing yourself in front of the entire class?"

I coughed, dramatically clutching my chest. "Embarrassment is temporary. Glory is eternal. Besides, admit it—you were impressed."

Her lips twitched. Not into a smile, but into that dangerous smirk she wore when deciding whether to mock me or bury me. "Impressed? I’ve seen carriages pulled by donkeys move with more grace."

"Strong donkeys?" I asked hopefully.

She facepalmed. "Unbelievable."

"Unbelievably resilient," I corrected, rolling onto my back with all the elegance of a dying turtle. "Tell me, Freya, did my determination stir your heart? Even a little?"

"No," she said flatly.

I grinned anyway. "I’ll take that as a yes."

Freya’s shadow fell over me while I was still catching my breath. She folded her arms, her smile sharp. "For someone with the title North Star

, you run more like a falling rock."

I wiped the sweat from my forehead and gave her a lazy grin. "A star still shines, no matter how it falls."

Her eyes narrowed. "If that was shining, then I dread to see you actually collapse."

"Oh, you’ll see it soon," I said, pushing myself up to a wobbling stand. "But when I collapse, I do it with elegance."

She gave a soft, mocking laugh. "Sure you do. You always stumble into elegance, don’t you?"

That was dangerously close. She didn’t say it outright, but the way her gaze lingered a fraction too long on my chest level told me she hadn’t forgotten.

I clutched my chest dramatically. "Cruel words, Freya. Cruel words aimed at a man who has just conquered death by cardio."

She tilted her head. "If only words could kill, you’d already be buried."

I flashed a grin. "If I’m still standing here after your insults, doesn’t that make me stronger?"

She scoffed and turned, her hair swinging like a whip across my arm. But I caught the faintest twitch at the corner of her lips before she walked away.

"Face it," I called after her, shameless as ever. "You’re secretly impressed by my endurance."

Her only answer was a dismissive flick of her hand.

Still, I counted it as a win.

Just as I was basking in the glory of my imagined victory over Freya, a voice like grinding stone cut through the courtyard.

"Enough warm-up. Training has only just begun."

Instructor Iron Fang’s voice could have cracked a mountain in half. His presence alone was heavier than my legs after three laps.

I froze. My smile died faster than a gambler’s last coin.

"Just begun?" I whispered to myself. "What kind of sadist uses the word just after making us run until our souls left our bodies?"

Iron Fang strode forward, his boots thudding like war drums. He didn’t look tired. He didn’t even look human. The man probably ate gravel for breakfast and washed it down with molten steel.

"Form ranks!" he barked.

Around me, the students straightened up, brimming with energy. Some even looked excited. Monsters, the lot of them.

Meanwhile, my knees wobbled like a newborn deer’s. My lungs were still negotiating peace talks with oxygen.

"This is it," I thought dramatically. "This is where the North Star burns out, extinguished in the cruel dawn of cardio."

I clutched my chest and stared at the sky. "Remember me, heavens. Remember the boy who ran... and then ran no more."

Freya, of course, walked past me with the faintest smirk. "Still alive?" she murmured sweetly, just loud enough for me to hear.

I gave her my most tragic look. "Alive, yes. But at what cost?"

Iron Fang’s glare landed squarely on me. "North Star!" he roared. "On your feet! Training starts now."

I wanted to protest, to explain that I was already a ghost haunting this training ground. Instead, I dragged myself upright, my face twisted into the expression of a condemned man.

Somehow, I knew this was only the beginning of my suffering.