The Extra's Rebellion
Chapter 96: Progress

Chapter 96: Progress

Zephyr gulped.

He stood stiffly at the edge of the marble-floored gymnasium, the early morning cold air biting faintly at his exposed ankles.

Across from him, Samantha was already mid-stretch, rolling her shoulders and bending side to side in long, smooth motions. She wore the standard combat uniform— black pants, a white shirt, and a reinforced training vest, practical and restrained.

Zephyr, on the other hand, was still in his white pajamas—with the same standard vest thrown over them like a poorly executed attempt at looking serious.

In his excitement to test his new weapon, it had completely slipped his mind that he was still wearing his pyjamas.

He had asked—politely, even—for a minute to change. Samantha had flatly refused.

"Nice try," she’d said. "You’ve pulled that ’changing clothes’ stunt four times this month. Not again."

To be fair, she had a point. He had used it before to bail on training sessions. This time, though... he actually meant it.

Zephyr swallowed again, trying to look anywhere but directly at her. But failing.

Her vest may have been reinforced, but it did absolutely nothing to keep her assets from giggling at him with each motion.

He wanted to look away— wanted not tried.

"Focus". He muttered to himself.

"—I’m ready now," Samantha said, interrupting his mental spiral.

"Huh? Oh. Okay."

She raised an eyebrow at his blank stare, then just rolled her eyes. He always had that dazed, detached look during combat. And it drove people nuts.

How would you feel fighting someone that clearly looked disinterested, or had a look that clearly stated that he was thinking about something else.

Zephyr exhaled and walked over to the weapons rack. He picked up a blunted katana, plain but weighted properly. He had started training with the katana after his brutal fight with Noctis—a fight that exposed just how flawed a scythe could be in close combat.

The scythe was powerful. But get too close, and it became dead weight.

Holding the katana in one hand, he flexed his gauntlet with the other. Inside, a custom projectile was already pulsing faintly—primed.

He’d spent months refining it— spiral-shaped metal projectiles, carved into it’s body is a hollow Art and a delay seal. The gauntlet would pour Aether into each components, and then—when the time was right—launch them with a burst of force. Timing was everything. Fire too soon, and it fizzled inside the barrel. Fire too late, and it missed entirely.

"You know the rules". Samantha called. Her tone was casual, but her steps were light, poised—like a dancer preparing to strike.

"No quitting. No stepping out. If you loose your weapon, your loss. And no running off toward the edge again."

Zephyr didn’t answer.

He knew his reputation. When forced to train— especially after the first three months— he had a bad habit of just walking out of the sparring ring.

"Too troublesome," he’d say. Apparently, that excuse had a shelf life.

Victoria, the girl from his squad with black hair and black eyes and an attractive face. She was still wearing the same white shirt and black pants and the reinforced vest that did nothing to hide her voluptuous figure which he always caught himself gazing at.

Not that they knew, his now evolved space sense track everything in real time, from her movement towards them to her giggling assets, he could track the entire movement despite not looking at her.

He was on his way to becoming the ultimate per— spy.

Victoria stepped between them holding a white handkerchief.

"As soon as this hits the floor," she said, "the match starts."

She tossed it, then she moved out of the ring.

Silence.

Then—flutter, flutter... drop.

They both moved instantly.

Samantha dashed forward, posture clean and aggressive.

Zephyr moved backward, feet sliding, trying to create space. But Samantha didn’t give him the time of the day.

He hastily raised his hand and pointed it at the rapidly approaching Samantha, his Aether flooding into the gauntlet.

Whrrr—click.

With a sharp whirl, the spiral-shaped projectile launched.

"What— . Samantha immediately stopped, seeing the projectile approach her, she jumped backwards.

Samantha’s eyes widened in surprise. She hadn’t expected it to actually work—his prototypes never had. She’d even stopped considering the gauntlet a weapon.

But instincts took over. She jumped back just in time.

The round fizzled out just shy of her old position—then pulsed releasing a thin aether shield, scattering lavender particles into the air.

He didn’t bring his dangerous ammo, he didn’t want to accidentally hurt her— well the main reason was that he didn’t expect it to work.

Zephyr sighed.

"Tch. Still too early," he muttered, ejecting the spent shell and sliding in a new one. "Needs a half-beat delay."

Then—

Requiem — Howl of the Night.

Samantha invoked her Art. Her Aether flared, a radiant pale-gold halo wrapping around her like a divine cloak.

Then it split.

Two golden wolves, spectral and snarling, erupted from the radiance with a piercing howl. They charged forward, claws scraping against the gym floor, with Samantha calmly advancing behind them.

Zephyr didn’t flinch. At a glance, he could tell—they were probes, distractions, cannon fodder to test the lethality of his new weapon.

She could make better and bigger wolves, these weak ones clearly had no value.

He aimed at one.

Whrr-click!

The shot screamed through the air—only for the wolf to juke sharply to the side, dodging it.

"Tsk," he muttered. As expected—they were semi-intelligent and could actively adapt to any situations.

But the delay did its job. One wolf was a fraction behind.

He tossed the katana into his right hand and pressed off his back foot moving backwards from his previous position. The beast lunged at him, intent on clamping it’s jaw around his neck.

A grin spilt Zephyr’s face, in a swift motion, Zephyr coated the dull blade with his Aether, giving the blade a lavender gleam.

Limbo — Border Jail.

Space folded beneath him, locking the floor into a frozen plane. He used it as a springboard, launching himself forward in a burst of unnatural speed.

Steel flashed.

The blade sank under the wolf’s jaw—piercing through it’s pure aether body— and with brutal force, Zephyr dragged the katana down, slicing the creature’s body in half.

It burst into mist, dissipating like smoke in moonlight.

’One down’. Then in the same breath, he ducked under the second wolf’s claw, twisting to avoid the blow.

Steel flashed again.

The beast’s limb flew through the air, already beginning to reform—but too late. Zephyr spun, his katana tearing through its midsection. Another burst of gold mist.

’Two down’. Before releasing his held breath, the shifted the blade to his left hand.

Clang.

Sparks scattered as his katana collided with Samantha’s longsword. Zephyr twisted his wrist, scraping the blade along hers, aiming to disarm by severing the grip around her hilt.

Samantha held her ground—her weapon gave her the advantage in reach.

But then her blade passed through something... off.

Her eyes widened. She had stabbed through his body.... his body had now turned to a Spector.

Limbo — Hollow Breath Transition.

’Gotcha’ Zephyr’s face lit up with a grin.

With just enough distance to avoid hurting her, he nearly claimed the win— until her expression hardened.

Requiem — Lunar Grace.

Her Aether surged again. But this time, it didn’t take the shape of wolves. It fractured—her body scattering into countless miniature wolf-lights that spread in all directions around him.

She reassembled a moment later, several feet behind, she had successfully escaped the fate of having her fingers cut off.

But her expression wasn’t triumphant. It was grim. Her sword... lay on the ground at Zephyr’s feet.

And one of the rules was clear— lose your weapon, and you lose the match.

Zephyr stared at her grinning, waiting for her to announce him the winner, instead she straighten herself walked directly towards him and stood in front of him.

"How did you do that". Zephyr grin flattened. This doesn’t sound like a congratulating speech.

"Do what". Zephyr asked his tone clearly showing his annoyance.

"You clad you weapon with your Aether. You aren’t supposed to be able to do that". She said in a matter of fact tone.

’so that’s what’s this is about’. At his stage right now— Elpison grade 3, he wasn’t supposed to be able clad his weapons with his Aether yet. He was supposed to be only able to reinforce his body with it.

"It’s related to weaving".

"Teach me".

"I can’t". It took him a year to manage it. Aether would refuse to be molded out of the body until Delta rank, it was a natural limitation and nobody bothered about it, why would they bother about something that would come naturally to them at Delta rank.

But Zephyr was desperate and he sought for solutions. On a certain day with his ’eyes’ activated he found a solution.

When he was weaving, little thread of aether would be extended from his hand, so he theorized that if he was able to expand that thread then he could clad his hand and weapons with his Aether.

That was how he expanded the barely visible thread to large pipes that he could clad his hand and weapon in.