Chapter 195: A Different Kind of Progress

The next morning, Noah arrived at the training hall earlier than usual.

The academy was still waking up.

A few students crossed the courtyard carrying equipment, while others hurried toward their first classes.

Noah preferred the quiet.

He stepped into the training hall and found several empty practice areas.

Perfect.

He picked up a wooden sword.

For a moment, he simply stood there.

His body felt better than it had yesterday.

The exhaustion from Hrafnvier was still present, but it no longer weighed on every movement.

He raised the sword.

One swing.

Another.

A third.

His movements gradually became faster.

He shifted his footing and performed a series of strikes he had learned during his earlier training.

His final swing stopped inches above the practice dummy.

Noah exhaled.

"Better."

"Talking to yourself now?"

Noah turned.

Eric stood at the entrance.

"I wasn’t talking to myself."

"You literally said ’better.’"

"I was evaluating."

"That’s a fancy way of saying talking to yourself."

Noah rolled his eyes.

Eric walked into the hall and picked up his own sword.

"Come on."

They began sparring.

Unlike the evaluation, there were no constructs.

No special rules.

Just two friends testing each other’s progress.

Eric attacked first.

Noah blocked.

Eric swung again.

Noah stepped aside.

Their weapons collided repeatedly.

Eric’s movements had become sharper.

Noah noticed immediately.

"You improved."

Eric grinned.

"I’ve been training."

"So have I."

Eric attacked again.

Noah blocked and countered.

Eric barely avoided the strike.

"You’re still faster."

"You’re stronger."

"Not enough."

The exchange continued.

Neither wanted to lose.

Neither wanted to admit it.

Eventually, both stepped back.

Eric was breathing heavily.

Noah wasn’t doing much better.

"Draw?" Eric asked.

Noah considered it.

"Draw."

Eric dropped onto the floor.

"Good."

Noah sat beside him.

For several moments, neither spoke.

Then the doors opened.

Sophia entered.

She stopped when she saw them sitting on the floor.

"Already tired?"

Eric raised a hand.

"We’re conserving energy."

Sophia smiled.

"Sure."

Laura entered behind her.

Then Luna.

Then Damien.

Noah looked around.

"Everyone’s here."

Luna smiled.

"Training together?"

Eric immediately stood.

"Absolutely."

Noah looked at him.

"You were exhausted ten seconds ago."

"I recovered."

"Impossible."

"Natural talent."

Damien laughed.

The six of them began training together.

There was no instructor.

No evaluation.

No ranking.

They simply practiced.

Laura worked on precision.

Sophia focused on speed.

Damien concentrated on defensive techniques.

Luna experimented with her abilities.

Eric pushed his physical limits.

And Noah worked on control.

Not power.

Control.

He remembered Professor Astrid’s words.

Power without control is a liability.

He understood them better now.

Ragnarok had given him immense potential.

But potential wasn’t mastery.

He had learned that the hard way.

Noah lowered his sword.

He looked at his friends.

"I’m going to stay after everyone leaves."

Eric looked at him.

"Again?"

"Yeah."

"You really don’t know when to stop."

Noah smiled.

"Not yet."

Laura watched him carefully.

"Just remember to rest."

"I will."

She gave him a look.

Noah sighed.

"I promise."

The training continued.

Outside, sunlight slowly crossed the academy walls.

Another ordinary day at Valhalla had begun.

And Noah was finally learning that becoming stronger wasn’t always about surviving something terrifying.

Sometimes, it was simply about showing up the next morning and trying again.

The training hall was nearly empty by sunset.

Most students had already returned to their dormitories.

Noah remained.

A single practice dummy stood in front of him.

He raised his sword.

Strike.

Step.

Turn.

Block.

Counter.

Again.

His movements were becoming smoother.

Not dramatically stronger.

Not faster than everyone else.

Just cleaner.

That was what Noah wanted.

He had spent too much time relying on power he didn’t fully understand.

Ragnarok had changed everything about his life.

The Dead Zone had changed it even further.

But his body was still his own.

If he wanted to control the power inside him, he needed to control himself first.

Noah attacked the dummy again.

The wooden sword struck its chest.

THUD.

He stepped back.

His breathing was steady.

"Again."

He attacked.

Another strike.

Another.

Then his grip loosened.

The sword dropped from his hand.

Noah stared at it.

His muscles were tired.

Not dangerously.

Just tired.

He bent down and picked it up.

"Enough."

Noah froze.

Dead Zone.

The voice came from somewhere deep inside his consciousness.

You’ve done enough today.

Noah looked toward the empty training hall.

"I’m fine."

That’s not the point.

Noah remained silent.

Strength isn’t measured by how long you can hurt yourself.

That sentence made Noah pause.

Dead Zone rarely spoke like that.

Noah sat on the edge of the training platform.

"Since when did you become responsible?"

I am responsible.

Noah smiled.

"That’s debatable."

You are exhausting.

"Likewise."

The presence inside him went quiet.

Noah leaned backward.

For a few minutes, he simply rested.

The doors opened.

Laura stepped inside.

Noah looked over.

"You came back?"

"I forgot my book."

She walked toward one of the benches and picked it up.

Then she noticed Noah sitting there.

"You stopped."

"Eventually."

Laura smiled.

"That’s progress."

Noah raised an eyebrow.

"Stopping?"

"Knowing when to."

He looked at the wooden sword beside him.

"Maybe."

Laura walked toward the exit.

Before leaving, she paused.

"You’re getting better."

Noah looked at her.

"At fighting?"

"At controlling yourself."

She left before he could respond.

Noah stared at the doorway.

For some reason, those words stayed with him.

He stood and placed the training sword back on the rack.

Outside, the evening sky had begun turning orange.

Students were returning from their classes.

Some laughed.

Others complained about homework.

A group of freshmen rushed past Noah, arguing about tomorrow’s training schedule.

The academy was alive.

Noah walked through the courtyard alone.

He passed the fountain.

Passed the dining hall.

Passed several students he recognized from the recent evaluation.

Some nodded at him.

He nodded back.

A few days ago, he had barely noticed them.

Now their faces were becoming familiar.

Valhalla was slowly becoming more than an academy.

It was becoming a place where people knew his name.

Noah stopped beneath the courtyard lights.

He looked up at the enormous towers.

For the first time since inheriting Ragnarok, he wasn’t desperately trying to understand what he had become.

He was simply trying to become better.

One day at a time.

One training session at a time.

And perhaps that was enough.

Noah continued toward the dormitories.

Tomorrow would bring another class.

Another training session.

Another ordinary day.

For now, he welcomed it.