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The Iron Wall of the Greatsword.

Aisha Bizvel.

A first-year student, hailed as the top talent in Martial Arts Studies.

And now, this very person is kneeling in front of me, head bowed low.

“S-Sorry! I didn’t know anyone was there.”

The enormous sword that nearly split me in half.

It was a greatsword Aisha had accidentally thrown.

I was stunned at first, but I’ve calmed down now that some time has passed.

On the other hand, Aisha still seemed flustered, probably because she almost hit someone with a weapon.

“It’s fine. You can get up. I’m not hurt.”

First, I need to calm her down.

If the others see her like this, who knows what they’ll say.

But Aisha stayed rooted to the spot, still bowing deeply.

“I’m so sorry. Feel free to contact me if there’s any problem, and I’ll cover all the costs. Truly, I’m very sorry.”

Was Aisha always this apologetic?

In the game, the narrative revolved around Lucas, so I didn’t get to know the personalities of the underclassmen in detail.

“Really, it’s okay. I’m completely fine. But how did you end up throwing your sword?”

At my question, Aisha flinched noticeably.

Curious, I raised an eyebrow.

Is there some embarrassing story behind this?

But Aisha, seemingly unwilling to hide things from someone she almost injured, answered while still bowing.

“Well, you see... I was doing windmill spins and lost my grip.”

Her next words made me blink.

Windmill.

So, Aisha was spinning her greatsword around in circles.

True to her “Iron Wall of the Greatsword” image, she always exuded a heavy, stoic vibe.

But imagining her yelling “Spinning Whirlwind!” while twirling around...

Honestly, it cracked me up a little.

‘That does sound fun.’

Spinning something around wildly has a primal kind of joy.

Though usually, that’s a pastime people outgrow as kids.

Judging by how red her ears are, Aisha’s fully aware of how silly this sounds.

She buried her face deeper, like a rabbit diving into its burrow.

“C-Could I ask you to keep this a secret?”

“That’s not hard, but…”

Come to think of it, Aisha is only 17.

A high schooler—a time when people randomly engage in silly antics.

And also a time when they’re old enough to feel embarrassed about it afterward.

With that in mind, it made perfect sense.

“Oh, right.”

An idea suddenly came to me.

I almost called her by name but caught myself.

It wouldn’t make sense to know her name already.

I should be careful.

“What’s your name?”

“Aisha Bizvel. I’m a first-year student.”

Feigning ignorance is harder than I thought.

“I’m Hannon Irey. I transferred in as a second-year yesterday.”

“You’re my senior!”

“You’ve been at the academy longer, Aisha. Feels like you’re the senior here.”

“M-Me, a senior?”

She didn’t seem to mind the idea, her eyes darting around with a slight blush.

Kind of cute.

If it weren’t for the massive greatsword stuck in the ground beside her, that is.

“Do you train every morning, Aisha?”

“Ah, yes, it’s part of my routine.”

Diligent as ever.

Rain or shine, Aisha trains here every morning.

Knowing this, I gave her a smile.

“Would you mind if I joined your training?”

“Join my training?”

“Yeah, I’d like to build up my skills a bit.”

In Flame Butterfly, there’s a concept called stats.

These increase naturally through repeated actions or mastery of certain skills.

Sadly, no matter how much I focus, I can’t see any kind of stat window in front of me.

I’ve tried yelling for every kind of system window imaginable.

Nothing appeared.

‘Well, this is reality now.’

I’ve accepted there’s no visible stat screen.

But I’m convinced the concept of stats still exists here.

I verified this before transferring to the academy through several incidents.

‘Repeated actions and skill mastery do increase stats.’

My body can feel the difference even if I can’t see them.

‘In a way, this is just like real life.’

For example, there’s a tangible sense of breaking through barriers.

Additionally, I’ve come to one more conclusion:

‘In this world, talent determines how fast your stats grow.’

The more innate aptitude someone has in a field, the faster their related stats increase.

Training is crucial.

My strength lies in stamina.

If I’m to function as a part of Martial Arts Studies, I need to improve my combat skills.

‘There’s a mock battle exam coming up in a few days.’

To fulfill Lucas’s role, I’ll need combat prowess.

Aisha, the “Iron Wall of the Greatsword,” is among the top students in the first year.

And I know her main stat.

‘Same as mine: stamina.’

Aisha’s unique trait, Iron Wall.

Training with her will definitely help.

“Training... partner?”

Aisha’s eyes lit up, even though this could have been an annoying request.

Her gaze swept over me from head to toe, as if evaluating my fitness.

It felt eerily similar to when a gym veteran sizes up a newbie.

“...Are you sure you’re okay training with me?”

Aisha asked hesitantly, though her rising smile betrayed her excitement.

Her eyes gleamed with a kind of predatory enthusiasm.

The intensity was unsettling.

Was this a mistake?

Still, this is an opportunity I can’t afford to miss.

“Yeah, I’d appreciate it.”

Might as well dive in.

Aisha clenched her fists tightly.

“Great! If I can help you in any way, I’m more than happy to!”

“Well, that’s a relief.”

Her eyes are a bit too intense, though.

Regardless, I’ve found myself a reliable training partner.

“What... what are you doing?”

At that moment, I heard a familiar voice and froze.

When I turned my head, there stood a woman in casual clothes, as if she had stepped out for a quick walk.

Honey blonde hair reminiscent of the sun.

Below it should have been her usual sunflower-bright face.

But what I saw were dark circles under hollow eyes and messy hair.

Isabel Luna.

The protagonist, Lucas’ childhood friend and one of the main heroines.

‘Looks like she hasn’t been sleeping again.’

After Lucas’ death, Isabel developed insomnia and couldn’t sleep properly.

Thanks to that, her once bright appearance had been replaced with a gloomy demeanor.

She probably went out for a short walk to cope with her insomnia.

And she just so happened to run into me.

For some reason, her eyes widened in shock.

Then I belatedly realized my situation.

Aisha was still kneeling in front of me, head bowed.

I had left her like that since she wouldn’t get up despite my prompting.

To others, it would look like a second-year male student forcing a first-year female student to kneel.

Obviously, not a good look.

Normally, I’d try to clear up the misunderstanding right away.

But the problem was the person in front of me.

Isabel.

“Ah, w-wait a minute, this is…”

Aisha, realizing the situation late, tried to explain.

But I stepped in front of her.

Instead, I shot Isabel a cold, insolent look.

This was my chance.

w

A chance to severely lower Isabel’s favorability.

“I made her apologize for inconveniencing me. Got a problem with that?”

“What?”

Isabel stared at me, dumbfounded.

She had probably expected me to explain the situation, not to ask what the problem was shamelessly.

“I was wronged, so I received an apology. I don’t see how this concerns you, Isabel Luna.”

In Flame Butterfly, addressing someone by both their first and last name is a form of warning.

A warning not to meddle unnecessarily.

Isabel’s lips quivered slightly.

Then, she clenched her fists, her eyes filled with seething rage.

“You really are trash.”

“Frankly, I’m confused. I got an apology for something worth apologizing for. Yesterday too—you sure like to meddle.”

“Getting angry about someone disrespecting Lucas—how is that meddling?!”

Isabel exploded.

The typically cheerful girl, often called a sunflower, rarely showed this much anger.

Even I had only seen her this furious when Lucas returned from dangerous missions.

But right now, her anger was exactly what I needed.

I had to draw out her emotions by any means necessary.

“Then what are you to Lucas?”

Isabel froze.

“A sibling? Or maybe… a lover?”

“…A friend.”

She glared at me, as if daring me to challenge her answer.

I said nothing.

I simply gave her a look of disdain.

“Birds of a feather, huh.”

Whoosh!

That’s when I noticed Isabel’s fist right in front of my face.

The breeze from her punch gently stirred my hair.

She’s unbelievably fast.

I’ve trained in hand-to-hand combat for a long time, but I could barely track her movements with my eyes.

She was among the top students in the second-year Combat Arts class.

Her movements were well beyond human limits.

“I warned you.”

Isabel’s voice was low and menacing.

“Don’t you dare insult Lucas again.”

I quietly stared at her fist.

Had it connected, I’d probably be sprawled on the ground by now.

This was her final warning.

“Then prove it.”

I lightly tapped her fist away and glared at her.

“Prove that your friend’s strength and sacrifice weren’t in vain.”

Isabel slowly lowered her fist.

A quiet determination burned in her eyes.

“The upcoming mock battle.”

She referred to the upcoming test.

“I’ll crush you into a pulp there. Let’s see if you’ll still say the same thing.”

Typical Isabel.

Even in her fury, she chose to settle things in the mock battle rather than here.

No matter how angry she was, she wouldn’t recklessly throw punches outside of a proper setting—her kindness shining through.

“Just so you know, Lucas was far stronger than someone like me.”

I watched Isabel’s retreating figure in silence.

Then I exhaled deeply.

Man, that was exhausting.

I’d kept my face so tense that it felt stiff.

‘More importantly, the mock battle.’

It was right around the corner.

All I could do was laugh dryly.

‘I guess I’ll have to accelerate my plans.’

Otherwise, I’ll end up being humiliated by Isabel.

“Um, excuse me…”

That’s when I remembered Aisha was still there.

“Oh, sorry for dragging you into this mess.”

Contrary to my serious demeanor earlier, I apologized so easily that Aisha seemed disoriented by the difference.

“Are you… not on good terms with Isabel?”

Aisha asked cautiously.

It seemed she was well aware of Isabel’s reputation as a prominent figure among the second-year Combat Arts students.

“Pretty much.”

It’s complicated.

“Hmm… Sounds like there’s more to the story.”

“If you feel like this is too much trouble, you don’t have to help with my training.”

I had no intention of causing unnecessary trouble while training.

But Aisha shook her head firmly.

“No way! I made a promise, and I always keep my promises!”

She was a remarkable young woman.

Aisha fidgeted with her fingers, her tall frame slightly hunched.

“Besides, I don’t think you’d act without reason, Senior.”

“How would you know? You barely know me.”

“Women’s intuition.”

I prefer edible intuition.

“Well, then, I’ll be counting on you for training, Aisha.”

“Of course!”

“Now… could you stand up, maybe?”

“Ah.”

Aisha shot to her feet, her face turning bright red.

Standing tall, she dusted off her knees, which had been pressed against the ground.

For a moment, her collar shifted, drawing attention elsewhere, but I quickly diverted my gaze downward.

Her knees were red and raw.

She must’ve stayed kneeling for a long time.

“So, um… Senior, when do we start training?”

Aisha’s eyes sparkled with anticipation, her breathing slightly intense.

…Did I make the wrong choice?

w