Damon woke in his own bed.

The familiar ceiling of his dorm room greeted him. The same he’d stared at for two years while his system refused to work.

It felt smaller now.

Or maybe he’d grown.

He sat up, rubbing the stiffness from his neck. The journey back from Verdant’s Edge had been uneventful.

Lena had been waiting at the platform. She’d checked his injuries with the efficiency of a field medic, pronounced him "surprisingly intact," and shoved a fresh batch of D-Rank recovery draughts into his hands before he could protest.

Sera had watched the exchange with the amused expression of someone watching a mother hen fuss over a very large, very dangerous chick.

Damon had spent the remainder of yesterday reviewing his updated schedule. Matthew hadn’t been lying. Dueling class was listed in bold red text, scheduled for [8:00 AM] the following morning.

The instructor was Professor Cain.

Someone Damon had only heard about in rumors, a former A‑Rank Slayer who retired after sustaining a strange injury from an undead monster, one that refused to heal.

Now, morning had arrived.

Damon dressed in his academy uniform, the same one he’d worn for two years, though it fit differently now. Small reminders of a month of relentless training.

He had almost forgotten that he was now buff.

He checked his system out of habit.

[SYSTEM STATUS – RESONATOR: DAMON PERSIVAL]

[CLASS: STORM SOVEREIGN (HYBRID)]

[LEVEL: 5]

[STR: 21]

[AGI: 29]

[VIT: 20]

[MAG: 30]

[STAT POINTS AVAILABLE: 0]

[TRIBUTE: 413]

"Damn, I forgot how much tribute I had..."

[SOVEREIGN’S STRIKE: 125 TRIBUTE] — Increases damage scaling by 150%.

[SOVEREIGN’S LEADERSHIP: 100 TRIBUTE] — Allows two skills gained from each subordinate instead of one.

[HYBRIDIZATION: 1500 TRIBUTE] — The Sovereign may hybridize with two of his subordinates’ classes

"A new one, huh?"

[PURCHASE SUCCESSFUL]

[TRIBUTE: 413 → 288]

[SOVEREIGN’S STRIKE: 625 TRIBUTE] — Increases damage scaling by 200%.

[TIER 3 BOUGHT, SUBTYPE UNLOCKED]

[SOVEREIGN’S THUNDER] — Skill now casts [LIGHTNING LANCE] upon impact.

"W-Wait, seriously? That’s insanely broken!"

Damon stared at the screen, his mind racing through the implications.

Sovereign’s Thunder.

The upgraded version didn’t just hit harder now. It cast Lightning Lance on impact. Every punch, every kick, every strike of his blade would now be accompanied by a bolt of lightning.

And with the Storm Sovereign hybrid’s fifty percent damage boost to all lightning-based skills, that meant every single melee attack now carried a lightning bolt at enhanced power.

"How much tribute did I have again?"

[288]

He’d spent 125 on the upgrade. Steep, but the returns were already proving worth it. The next tier sat at 625, which meant he wouldn’t be touching that for a while.

He dismissed the screen and grabbed his bag.

Dueling class started in forty minutes.

And he had overslept for his usual morning routine.

"D-Damn it!"

***

The combat arena was already half-full when Damon arrived.

Students lined the elevated seating that ringed the central sparring floor, a wide circle of reinforced metal etched with barrier runes to contain stray abilities.

The air hummed with the low thrum of active magic as students warmed up in their seats, ensuring they wouldn’t misfire once they stepped into the arena.

Morning light poured through the high windows, casting long rectangles of gold across the floor.

A few heads turned as Damon entered. He recognized some of them. Faces that had whispered behind his back for two years. The students who’d laughed when Matthew shoved him into walls.

"Persival."

The voice came from the arena floor.

Professor Cain stood at the center of the sparring circle, arms folded behind his back.

He was tall, with dark skin and red eyes. His left arm was wrapped in bandages from elbow to fingertip, the fabric yellowed with age but clean. The undead injury that had ended his career.

He moved with the deliberate precision of someone who’d once been very dangerous and had lost none of his skill, only his stamina.

"You’re early," Cain said. "Good. Take a seat. We start when the clock hits eight."

Damon found a spot near the front, close enough to see the barrier runes pulsing along the floor’s edge. A few seats down, a second-year girl with a [Blade Dancer] armband glanced at him, then quickly looked away.

More students filtered in over the next twenty minutes.

Matthew arrived with his usual entourage, though smaller now, only two lackeys instead of the usual four.

And he spotted Damon immediately, and his expression flickered through several emotions before settling on the usual smug grin, taking a seat on the opposite side of the arena.

Kara arrived a few minutes later. She gave Damon a quick nod and a thumbs-up before joining her brother.

Ren Halwick entered quietly, his massive frame somehow making no sound as he found a seat in the back. His tower shield was absent, but his arms were as thick as ever.

And then, just before eight, one more familiar face appeared.

Harris.

The former bully, now support-track assistant instructor, slipped through the door with a tablet in hand. He didn’t sit with the combat students.

Instead, he made his way to a small desk near the barrier controls, logging attendance with the same nervous efficiency he’d always had.

Their eyes met briefly. And now what seemed to be their routine, they gave each other a small nod.

"Eight o’clock," Professor Cain announced, his voice cutting through the low murmur of conversation. The room fell silent. "Dueling class is now in session."

He paced the perimeter of the sparring circle, his bandaged arm hanging at his side.

"For those of you who’ve never taken my class, let me make one thing clear. This is not practicals. This is not formation drills. This is not portal farming. Dueling class is about one thing: learning to fight other Resonators."

His dark eyes swept across the assembled students.

He stopped at the center of the circle.

"Today’s session will be simple. I call two names. You come down, and you fight. No killing blows and permanent injuries, anyone who disobeys will be swiftly removed and punished."

A ripple of murmurs passed through the students.

"First match." Cain pulled a tablet from his coat. "Kara Voss and Damon Persival."