Sword Arts class—no surprise it topped every academy’s popularity charts. The auditorium was packed to the rafters. Mistflower wasn’t with me this time, nor any familiar classmates. I sat alone in an inconspicuous seat, listening to the instructor dissect basic swordsmanship.

From his boastful self-introduction at the start, this middle-aged teacher was a locally renowned swordsman who’d supposedly hunted dragons with major adventuring parties. He did have genuine skill, though. Even while teaching common fundamentals, his vivid explanations sparked real insights. I realized my own understanding of swordsmanship had significant gaps—that’s why I’d lost to Saches.

As the lecture neared its end, the swordsman scanned the long student roster.

"Next is free practice. I’ll assign groups, and you’ll move to designated training rooms. Apply what I’ve taught today—let understanding dawn through action." The practice rooms lay behind the auditorium, separated chambers accessed through a small door. After theory sessions, instructors always had students drill in groups. I’d done this before with Mistflower in Divine Arts Department class.

The moment he finished speaking, a stream of young people emerged behind him—some in uniforms, others in adventurer gear. The audience buzzed with chatter.

"Free practice time! I pray the gods let me train under the master himself," gushed a starry-eyed girl beside me.

"Don’t dream too hard," her male classmate countered. "Teachers only personally guide pure swordsmen—and only a few. As a magic swordsman, you’ll get an assistant. Honestly, I hope for a pretty one."

"Assistant?" I tapped his shoulder. He turned, eyes lighting up at my face. "When groups form, each has a direct instructor. The teacher handles only one group; assistants cover the rest. They’re seniors approved by the academy. Some earn Scholarship Points while studying; others are graduates staying on, maybe becoming teachers later."

I knew about Scholarship Points—the academy’s convertible currency. Top students earned them directly, helping the poor continue studies. Others gained points through tasks: assisting classes, maintaining equipment, sustaining magic arrays. Even the enchanted runes on my acceptance letter were likely a magic student’s Scholarship Point hustle. Points could be exchanged for cash (common for needy students), advanced weapons, or skills—items students often donated to earn points. The academy profited handsomely from this cycle. Clever system.

Unlike my classmates, I didn’t care about assistants. Beyond the master swordsman, skill levels were similar. I’d accept anyone—even a plain-faced senior.

Fate had other plans. I landed in a beautiful senior’s group—the last person I wanted to see. Liyue. Dressed in her skimpy uniform, she stood rigidly, her longsword planted point-down on the floor.

*Of all the assistants, why her? Is my luck truly this rotten?*

I glanced around. All thirty-plus groupmates radiated gentle, luminous auras—clearly holy knights, light magic swordsmen, or warrior-clerics. Even another angel stood among us, though her aura marked her as a first-tier, double-winged member of another church. She stared at me with open worship.

*Ah.* The swordsman had grouped by vocation. No wonder that boy said magic swordsmen never trained under the master. Tailored teaching was wise—but disastrous for me.

Liyue strode straight to me. *Haven’t I stayed hidden? Why single me out first?*

"You’re the angel from the Divine Arts Department—Lady Lefur, correct?" Her tone was unexpectedly deferential. "My apologies for not greeting you then. The crowd was overwhelming, and I didn’t wish to disturb you. My foolish brother Imet caused you trouble." My prepared retort died on my lips.

"I’m astonished the Church sent a Six-Winged Angel to the academy. Within the Divine Church, I should address you as senior. I’m interning with the Sun Knight Order now—please look after me in the future." She fidgeted nervously.

*Ah. She mistakes me for some high-ranking Church figure.* Truthfully, I was a novice. But a Six-Winged Angel did outrank her trainee knight status. Not that I could sabotage her career—if only I could.

"Senior Liyue is too kind. I’m no one important. Within the academy, we follow academy rules. Please begin the lesson." Her face flushed crimson. She cleared her throat sharply, then straightened with renewed vigor.

"Students, I’m Assistant Liyue. Today, I’ll guide you. First, three volunteers for sparring—I’ll critique your form." She clearly wanted to impress me.

She picked a light magic swordsman. "Light magic lacks raw power and rarely focuses on blades. Pre-battle buffs are essential. Prepare your enhancements, then attack me."

Eager to show off for the pretty senior, the boy chanted while glowing arrays seeped into his body. Light magic offered weaker buffs than Divine Arts, yet he spent a full minute casting.

He charged with a roar, sword flashing impressively—only to be sent flying moments later, his uniform’s chest torn open. Even I saw his messy technique; he relied entirely on buffed stats. Liyue’s raw power overwhelmed him.

"Your shared flaw? Over-reliance on buffs. No light enhancement can match pure swordsmen, warriors, or knights. They have hardened bodies, potent Battle Aura or Rage—traits external factors can’t fully replace. What you lack is fundamental swordsmanship. Who here has formal training?"

A sword-belted warrior raised his hand—a multi-class student.

Fueled by Rage, he actually exchanged several solid blows with Liyue. She held back, matching his speed and strength. Their clash grew intense.

"Your swordsmanship is adequate," Liyue noted mid-fight, "but insufficient for a true warrior. You’ve rushed into advanced techniques without mastering basics." The boy grew flustered, pressed recklessly, and instantly lost his sword to Liyue’s flick. His face turned ashen.

"Lefur, spar with him next. Both go all out—and bring your shield."

*Of course.* Warriors needed shields. The boy pulled a round shield from his storage item, stance firming. A soft glow emanated from him—like all in Liyue’s group, he followed a light deity, though not as a Holy Cleric.

I drew my weapon from the Collar: an elegant Rapier. Its crescent guard bore intricate engravings—a noble’s decorative piece, yet my true specialty. Against Saches, I’d used a one-handed greatsword out of habit; this blade would unleash my full potential.

The warrior tensed visibly, half-cowering under my six wings. He raised his shield, refusing to strike first.

I raised the Rapier vertically before my face and gave a slight bow. Then I lunged. *Clang!* The blade struck his shield, driving him back three steps despite his braced stance.

I pressed the assault, my Rapier falling like rain. Yet his shieldwork was solid. Calming himself, he blocked every strike and even countered occasionally.

"Good shield-sword coordination," Liyue praised. "As a defensive warrior, your fundamentals are strong. But master swordsmanship too—you must stand alone someday." I judged his skill inferior to Saches’, yet his overall strength might surpass him.

"Now observe Lefur," Liyue continued, eager to flatter me. "Her immense power dominates, yet her technique is flawless—thrusts, slices, and parries flow seamlessly, always leaving escape routes. She’s clearly practiced with partners. Someone with her physical prowess could neglect swordsmanship, yet she trained diligently. Emulate this." Her praise soared wildly; I was far from her level. My skill came from pre-reincarnation training under a master.

But the sparring ended there. A defensively specialized warrior, once pressured, rarely reversed momentum. His role was to hold enemies for teammates. After ten minutes, his stamina faded. He surrendered. I halted.

"Both performed well," Liyue said. "Earlier, the master emphasized ‘insight’—because after decades of daily practice, sword and self become one. His art has no flaws; advancement comes through sudden epiphanies. That advice is for pure swordsmen who’ve already drilled endlessly. You’re different. Master fundamentals first. Don’t reach for advanced techniques. Even if swordsmanship isn’t your primary weapon, solid basics suffice..."

Liyue’s lesson captivated everyone. After class, students clamored for her to teach again. She suggested advanced courses in the Knight or Warrior Departments. Several looked eager to enroll.

I just wanted to escape. But Liyue cornered me, forcing out my room number and contact details. My future looked bleak.