Chapter 62: Laughter
Ever since arriving in this world, Azriel had accomplished many things—most of which he was proud of.
Yet, there were still countless goals he needed to achieve, challenges that lay ahead.
Some would be difficult, but none so pressing as the one task he had neglected since his arrival...
Training.
It wasn't that he was weak.
With the combined memories of Leo and Azriel, he was a formidable fighter.
He was strong.
But not strong enough.
And so...
Bam—!
Bam—!
Bam—!
The sound of Azriel's fists slamming into a heavy bag echoed through one of the Academy's gym rooms.
Red lightning crackled around his knuckles, intensifying the force of each strike.
He was dressed in black pants and a matching black t-shirt, both soaked with sweat.
It was 4 a.m., and the room was empty, save for him.
Unable to sleep, Azriel had decided it was time to train—really train—for once.
And what exactly was he working on?
Bam—!
Bam—!
His speed.
One of the first things he noticed upon arriving in this world was that he was faster than most of his peers.
He could even keep pace with Caleus, who also relied on his speed and was stronger than Azriel.
As long as it was a contest of skill, that is.
But if there was one thing Azriel wanted to improve, it was his speed.
Even in his previous life, when he played games with Nathan, the first thing he'd always upgrade was his speed stat.
It was a childish thought, perhaps, but wouldn't it be cool to defeat an enemy before they even realized what happened?
He had tried to do just that with Cadet Kai back at the Celestial Arena, but he wasn't fast enough.
He wanted to be faster.
Bam—!
Bam—!
He kept punching and kicking the bag, each strike aimed at increasing his speed.
'Faster... I'm not fast enough.'
And so, the only sound that filled the room was the relentless pounding of Azriel's fists against the punching bag, driven by an unyielding desire to become faster.
*****
The entire night, Jasmine had been buried in work required of her as the student council president.
With the new school year, she also needed to recruit new members from the first-year batch.
It was now 5 a.m., and she finally decided to take a break.
It wasn't that being the student council president was so demanding that Jasmine couldn't even sleep.
It was just that… she procrastinated.
Too much.
Now, she had to sacrifice her sleep to actually get some work done.
Realizing that it was too late to go to bed, she decided to head to one of the gym rooms. If she wasn't going to sleep, she might as well train.
And since it was still early in the morning, no one would be there.
The corridors were empty and dimly lit as she arrived in front of a familiar gym room. Reaching the door, she opened it and stepped inside.
Bam—!
Bam—!
"Huh?"
As soon as she entered, she heard the sound of something heavy being struck.
Curiosity piqued, Jasmine walked toward the source of the sound.
When she found it, her eyes widened in shock.
Bam—!
"Not"
Bam—!
"Fast"
Bam—!
"Enough"
Bam—!
At the far end of the boxing area stood a familiar figure she instantly recognized.
His back was hunched, and a pool of sweat had formed around his feet.
Drip... Drip...!
But it wasn't just sweat.
Blood was seeping from his knuckles, which crackled with red lightning.
Bam—!
Bam—!
Bam—!
Ever since his return, Jasmine had noticed how much Azriel had changed. Whether that was for better or worse, she wasn't sure.
He smiled, he laughed, he sighed.
"More."
Bam—!
But she had never seen him like this before.
His face was filled with determination, frustration, and… anger.
Such a raw expression made everything else he'd shown her seem almost unreal.
Her feet felt rooted to the spot as she watched him punch and kick the bag faster and faster.
'Why isn't he getting tired? How long has he been here? What about his mana—hasn't it depleted yet? …Why is he pushing himself so hard?'
Nothing made sense.
There was something about him that made Jasmine unable to tear her gaze away.
The longer she watched, the more she began to realize what he was doing.
He wasn't just punching the bag.
No.
The tips of his hair were…
White.
It was incredibly hard to notice, but when Jasmine did…
Her blood ran cold.
'He's… he's crazy!'
Cra...Crackle—!
There.
She saw it.
Only for a few seconds.
The red lightning… turned white.
It was just for a moment, but in that moment, she felt like she was dreaming.
'He… he's merging his affinities!?'
It was such an absurd thing to witness.
And yet…
She couldn't move a single step forward.
All she could do was one thing.
Watch.
.
.
bam—!
.
.
Ten minutes.
.
.
Bam—!
.
.
Twenty minutes.
.
.
Bam—!
.
.
Thirty minutes.
.
.
Bam—!
.
.
Forty minutes.
.
.
Bam—!
.
.
One hour.
.
.
At exactly one hour, it happened.
Bam—!
The entire punching bag… turned into ice.
Jasmine's mind went blank.
At the same moment, Azriel collapsed onto the floor, breathing heavily and coughing.
Jasmine snapped out of her daze and moved toward him, but then...
"Hahaha!"
Azriel laughed, ignoring his own state and sitting amid the pool of blood and sweat.
No.
He just kept laughing.
He watched as the punching bag turned to ice upon contact with his lightning.
Azriel's eyes shone brightly, his laughter echoing through the room.
Jasmine's mind froze once again.
The expression on his face…
She had never seen such joy from him before.
It was the first time since his return that she had seen him so... happy.
"I did it! I actually fucking did it...!"
He continued to laugh, like a child discovering something wondrous for the first time.
Jasmine could only blink, unable to comprehend what to do.
When his laughter finally subsided, he fell back, still breathing heavily.
Yet the smile never left his face.
Noticing Jasmine's gaze, Azriel turned his head towards her.
The air between them instantly grew awkward.
Azriel's mouth moved as if he were struggling to find words.
"..."
"...H-how long have you been watching?"
Jasmine wanted to lie and say she hadn't seen anything, but...
She couldn't bring herself to lie.
She attempted a smile, but it faltered instantly.
So, she told the truth.
"An hour."