The SSS-rank Guide Doesn't Need Saving

Class 7-D didn’t have much on their schedule compared to the other classes. Most of their afternoons were left open, filled only with whatever the students chose to do with the time. Some hung around the courtyard. Others camped out in the cafeteria long after the food ran cold. A few, like Vesper, made a habit of heading straight for the training field.

Today, the four of them ended up there together.

The field stretched out behind the main academy buildings, a wide stretch of packed earth ringed by tall metal fencing, dotted with training dummies shaped like monsters from different threat classes. Racks of weapons lined one side, everything from short blades, long spears, and guns of different sizes and shapes, each one humming faintly with stored psychic energy when handled.

Overhead, a translucent dome shimmered faintly, some kind of barrier meant to contain stray attacks from getting out of hand.

”Loses buys lunch for everyone,” Vesper announced, already stretching his body.

Sabel scoffed, loosening her collar and sleeves. ”You’re going to lose and then complain the whole way to the cafeteria.”

”I never complain!”

”You complained for twenty minutes after Reign broke your nose.”

Vesper choked.

It was the previous fight when he almost got sacked out of the academy. Fortunately, a professor was nearby and stopped it from escalating.

”That was different! I was in tremendous pain.”

Sabel rolled her eyes but agreed to the bet anyway, tying her hair back and walking to the center of the field where the mock combat ring was marked out in faint blue light. There were several other rings in the field. A few were already occupied by other students who’d skipped their classes.

Aisha watched them square off for a moment, then let her attention drift toward the weapons rack instead. She walked closer, studying the array laid out there. Some were plain and utilitarian, others etched with faint runic patterns that glowed when she got too close.

She’d never seen anything like this in her old world. There, weapons had been whatever people could scavenge: kitchen knives, pipes, and the occasional gun with dwindling ammunition they’d either get from someone’s house or dead bodies.

Sometimes, when there was nothing left to hold and defend themselves, a slipper would make a good makeshift weapon.

They’re good enough to swat mutated flies coming at you with a foot-long stinger.

Here, on the other hand, every blade looked purpose-built, designed with actual thought behind it.

If something like this had existed back then, would people still have been at the mercy of the mutation eating away at everything? Would her little brother still have—

She cut the thought off before it could finish.

”Guides don’t need combat training as sentinels do,” Kane said, coming up to stand beside her. He must have noticed where her attention had gone. ”But we’re still required to know basic defense. In case a sentinel goes down and we’re the last one standing.”

Aisha nodded absently, still studying the weapons with an expression that had gone a little too fond.

Kane picked up a short, curved blade from the rack and turned it over in his hands. ”This one’s for close combat against fast, low-threat creatures. Good for anything that swarms instead of hitting hard.” He set it down and picked up another, longer and heavier. ”This is for anything with a thick hide. You need the extra weight behind the swing. Only sentinels use this.”

Aisha glanced at the one he picked up, trying another one of them in her hand. The weight was considerably heavy, just as he had said, but it was not impossible to carry. If she were to come across a reptilian creature and needed to fight it, this would be a nice thing to have.

An item was already made it on her list of things to buy.

He reached for a third weapon, a slim polearm resting near the edge of the rack, and started to explain what it was meant for.

However—

Something cut through the air before he could finish.

Aisha felt it before she could see it, a wrongness in the space around them, sharp and immediate. Her instincts shot up high, blaring at her like a siren.

She grabbed Kane’s arm and shoved him sideways, stepping back herself in the opposite direction at the same fluid moment.

A long spear buried itself on the ground exactly where they’d been standing, close enough that she felt the wind of it against her cheek.

From somewhere across the field, a voice called out, unmistakably annoyed.

”Fuck, I missed!”

Aisha turned toward the voice.

A young man stood at the far end of the training field, scratching the back of his head and kicking at the dirt in frustration. Two others stood beside him, laughing loud enough to carry across the whole yard.

”You actually missed it!”

”I told you it wasn’t as easy as it looks.”

The student who’d thrown it scowled, glancing between his friends and the space where his weapon used to be.

”Shut up, it’s just one throw,” Corwin scowled.

They’d apparently made a bet, tossing a weapon from a distance to see who could land it cleanly back into the rack without going over. It was a stupid game, the kind bored, and overconfident students invented when they had too much free time and not enough sense.

And even now, seeing Aisha and Kane standing right there, neither of the throwers seemed to think that mattered.

He hadn’t warned them when he could.

He didn’t even tell them to move before throwing the weapon.

He’d simply aimed at the rack like it was a target, and everything standing near it was fair game, an afterthought not worth his attention. As if the space around his mark existed only in his eyes.

His friends laughed again, one of them clapping him on the shoulder. ”Come on, we’ll let this one slide. Try again.”

Corwin, humiliated at having missed and eager to save face, agreed without hesitation.

He didn’t run over to check if anyone had been hurt by his throw. Didn’t so much as glance in Aisha and Kane’s direction with any concern. Instead, he raised his voice, calling out across the field like he was addressing servants.

”Hey! Bring my spear back here.”