I hurl the rock.

  It collides with her blade midair—

  crack.

  Silence follows as the stone shatters and falls to the ground in pieces.

  Horikita’s gaze locks onto me.

  “That’s enough,” I say.

  “There was no need to go that far. You made your point.”

  “And who are you to decide that?” she replies calmly.

  This was a mistake.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “Well?” she continues. “Why the sudden silence?”

  Maniko steps in front of me.

  “Horikita, that’s enough. He’s new. Just let it go.”

  Idiot. He’s only making this worse.

  “Step aside, Maniko,” she says.

  “Before I send you to the infirmary.”

  I catch the hesitation in his eyes. Fear.

  So that’s how she keeps control.

  “Horikita,” I say, “you’re in the wrong. This has gone far enough.”

  Her expression sharpens.

  She moves.

  I barely react in time, stumbling back as her strike slices through the air where I stood.

  Too close. I need to read her rhythm—or I won’t last.

  I regain my footing, my fingers closing around loose sand and another stone.

  If I blind her—even for a moment—and land a clean hit to the head, it’s over.

  Assuming she stays conscious.

  She scoffs.

  “Sand?”

  “Why not use your attribute?”

  That Light attribute…

  Refined. Controlled. Dangerous.

  “Why so quiet?” she presses. “Afraid to answer?”

  I move.

  I circle, narrowly evading her next strike, then fling the sand. It catches her eyes—just long enough.

  An opening.

  I slip behind her, the stone raised—

  “Enough.”

  The command cuts through the air.

  Sentinel authorities restrain us both, forcing us apart.

  As they drag me away, my eyes return to Horikita.

  That Light attribute…

  If only I’d been born with it.

  I glance once at Maniko.

  He’s no longer relevant.

  --

  I’m still early into this story and wa

  nt to improve it as much as possible.

  What should I focus on most going forward?