The training field buzzed with excitement.
Students gathered around the black-and-white grid, forming a wide circle.
Duels weren't rare here—but seeing a King without a House challenge a Knight-class student right after arrival?
That was worth watching.
Mira stood at the center of the grid, hands on her hips, fiery hair blazing in the sunlight.
Yuuji stepped onto the field opposite her, relaxed, casual, almost lazy.
But inside, his mind whirred.
Opening strategy.
Control the center.
Force her into predictable movement.
He glanced up.
Above the field, magical glyphs activated—recording the match, establishing the basic rules:
1v1 Match – First to Check (Defeat or Immobilization)
Abilities limited to assigned movement styles
No outside interference
Yuuji exhaled slowly.
This wasn't pure brawling.
It was chess—translated into live, dangerous magic.
A booming voice echoed from the sidelines, probably a senior student acting as referee.
"Combatants ready? Begin!"
Mira didn't hesitate.
In a blur, she darted forward—moving in a sharp, L-shaped leap, exactly like a Knight piece.
Fast.
Efficient.
Deadly.
Yuuji smiled faintly.
He sidestepped at the perfect moment, predicting her angle exactly.
Mira's attack sliced through the air where he had stood just seconds before.
"Tch!" she clicked her tongue, twisting midair to launch a follow-up strike.
Yuuji calmly took two steps diagonally backward—mimicking a Bishop's retreat—staying just within the magical movement allowance.
The crowd gasped.
"He's using Bishop moves?"
"But he's a King!"
Mira growled, landing heavily.
"Quit running, coward!"
Yuuji shrugged.
"Not running. Positioning."
He tapped the side of his head.
"Strategy beats strength. Every time."
Mira snarled—and launched again, another rapid L-shaped strike.
But Yuuji was already moving, weaving through her attacks, forcing her into awkward positions.
After three exchanges, it was clear to everyone watching:
Yuuji wasn't stronger.
He was smarter.
Every time Mira attacked, she wasted a little more energy.
Every dodge pulled her one step closer into a perfect trap.
And Mira—hot-headed, proud—was too furious to notice.
Yuuji smiled.
One more move.
He stepped left—diagonal, again—and Mira lunged.
Straight into the invisible boundary he had calculated.
As she crossed the threshold, a trap glyph activated—one Yuuji had subtly baited her into—snaring her in shimmering chains of light.
The field blared:
CHECK. VICTOR: YUUJI SERIZAWA.
The crowd erupted.
Some in awe. Some in disbelief.
Mira struggled against the chains, growling.
Yuuji approached casually, hands in his pockets.
He leaned down slightly.
"Still not interested in my offer?" he asked, voice low.
Mira glared at him furiously—then sighed, defeated.
"...Fine. You win, King without a clue."
"...For now."
Yuuji grinned.
First piece on the board.
Mira stood with her arms crossed, her gaze skeptical.
"So, what now, Your Highness?" she said, practically dripping sarcasm.
Yuuji cracked his neck casually.
"Now," he said, "we build a team that can actually survive in this crazy world."
Mira snorted.
"Good luck. Most of the good ones are already claimed by other Houses."
Yuuji smiled lazily.
"Good. The harder the challenge, the sweeter the victory."
He pulled out a small crystal tablet Elvira had given him—an academy registry.
It displayed various students and their current House affiliations—or lack thereof.
Mira peered over his shoulder.
"You seriously think you can just ask someone to join you?"
"Of course not," Yuuji said with a grin. "I'm going to outplay them."
They scanned the training fields.
At the edge of a grassy arena stood a tall girl with long silver hair, calmly reading a floating spellbook.
Her uniform bore the sigil of a Bishop—a powerful magic sniper class.
Name: Clara Sylvelle – Bishop Class – Unaffiliated
She exuded cool, untouchable elegance.
Mira whistled low.
"Good luck with that ice queen. She turned down three Houses already."
Yuuji smirked.
"Bishops control the diagonals. If I want full board dominance, I need her."
Further down, practicing heavy impact spells, was a muscular girl with messy brown hair.
She wore heavy armor over her uniform, her Tower sigil gleaming in the sun.
Name: Ayaka Flint – Rook Class – Unaffiliated
She laughed loudly as she shattered a training dummy with a single hammer strike.
Mira grinned.
"Now she looks fun."
Yuuji frowned slightly.
"Fun... and stubborn. Rooks are all about brute force and endurance. Negotiations could get... physical."
As they plotted, a sudden gust of wind blew across the field—
—and with a perfectly timed, magical misfire from a sparring match, a stray water spell exploded nearby.
SPLASH!
Yuuji was instantly soaked.
Worse, the spell had been aimed at a group of students—and the blast had caught Clara completely by surprise, soaking her uniform, clinging dangerously tight to her slender form.
Time slowed.
Clara turned her head, ice-blue eyes narrowing, her soaked uniform outlining every—
SLAP!
Yuuji barely saw the spell circle form before a freezing gust of wind slammed him face-first into the ground.
Mira doubled over laughing.
"Way to make a first impression, genius!"
Yuuji groaned from the ground, cheek frozen to the marble.
"Tactical misfire... I'll recover."
Above them, from a rooftop balcony, a tall boy in black armor watched the scene unfold, a smirk on his face.
"A King without a House, playing hero already..." he muttered.
"Let's see how long you last, chess nerd."
"Cold... so cold..."
Yuuji peeled his cheek off the frozen marble, groaning.
Mira stood nearby, still laughing so hard she nearly fell over.
"You're killing it with the ladies, Your Highness!" she gasped between giggles.
Yuuji pushed himself up, brushing shards of frost from his hair.
Across the field, Clara Sylvelle stood tall, arms folded across her chest, her soaking uniform now dried by a small, elegant wind spell.
Her icy blue eyes locked onto Yuuji with the precision of a sniper.
Danger level: Maximum.
Yuuji took a deep breath and approached, hands raised in a peace gesture.
"Hey, listen," he said. "That was a total accident. I didn't mean to—"
"Save your excuses," Clara interrupted, voice sharp and cool as ice.
She stepped forward, gaze calculating.
"You're the new King without a House, correct?"
Yuuji blinked.
"Yeah. That obvious?"
Clara tilted her head slightly.
"Only someone completely insane would challenge Mira Valentina in public... and win."
Mira, standing behind Yuuji, stuck out her tongue.
"Tch. Fluke win."
Clara ignored her.
"Why are you approaching me?" she asked directly.
Yuuji smiled lazily.
"Simple. I need a Bishop. Someone with precision, vision... and devastating firepower."
Clara raised an eyebrow.
"And what do I gain from following you?"
Yuuji tapped his chin, pretending to think.
"Hmmm. Maybe the satisfaction of watching me trip over my own ambitions?"
Mira coughed loudly to hide her laughter.
Clara didn't smile.
Not even a twitch.
Yuuji sighed dramatically.
"Fine, the real answer: I'm offering you something better than a House that sees you as a weapon."
Clara's eyes narrowed, curiosity flickering.
"What, then?"
Yuuji pointed at the academy grounds, where students practiced mindlessly under harsh instructors.
"Freedom.
A team that wins by brains, not just brute force.
You won't be just another pawn on someone else's board.
You'll be a force of your own."
The air between them crackled with tension.
For a long moment, Clara said nothing.
Then she raised her hand—and a tiny snowflake spun from her fingertip.
It floated towards Yuuji—and exploded harmlessly against his forehead.
Clara smirked—just slightly.
"You get one chance, King without a House," she said.
"Don't disappoint me."
Mira blinked.
"Wait, seriously? That worked?"
Yuuji grinned.
"Strategy, Mira. Strategy."
One more piece on the board.
With Clara reluctantly joining his side, Yuuji felt a tiny spark of momentum.
But two pieces on the board weren't enough.
He needed strength.
He needed someone who could hold the line when things got rough.
He needed a Rook.
Mira and Yuuji found Ayaka Flint exactly where expected—at the outdoor training fields, surrounded by shattered dummies and scorch marks.
Ayaka stood with a heavy training hammer slung over her shoulder, laughing loudly as instructors desperately tried to repair the wreckage.
She wore a slightly too-tight uniform stretched over powerful arms and legs—an absolute wall of muscle and energy—and her brown hair was tied in a messy ponytail.
Yuuji exhaled slowly.
"Alright. How do we approach a living wrecking ball without getting smashed?"
Mira grinned.
"You're the genius strategist, aren't you?"
"Right, right..."
Yuuji straightened his jacket, trying to look dignified, and marched across the field toward Ayaka.
Before he could even open his mouth, Ayaka spotted him—and grinned like a predator.
"HEY, NEWBIE!" she bellowed, pointing at him.
"Wanna SPAR?"
Yuuji blinked.
"I mean... I was hoping to—"
"TOO LATE!"
With terrifying speed, Ayaka charged.
SMAAASH!
Yuuji barely dodged the first swing, her training hammer smashing a crater where he had stood.
"She's fast—why is she so fast?!" he yelped, ducking under a wild horizontal sweep.
Mira was doubled over on the sidelines, laughing her lungs out.
Clara watched in icy silence, one eyebrow raised.
Ayaka laughed gleefully, chasing Yuuji around the field like a cat after a mouse.
"C'mon, King Boy! Let's see if you've got guts!"
"This is not how negotiations work!" Yuuji cried.
He tripped, stumbled—and Ayaka grabbed him by the collar with one hand, hoisting him effortlessly into the air.
Her bicep flexed dangerously close to his face.
"Heh. Not bad. You've got... decent running skills," she said, grinning wide.
Yuuji dangled helplessly.
From this angle, he could see way too much of her overly tight uniform, straining at every seam.
Internal Danger Alarm: MAXIMUM.
Ayaka smirked.
"You here to recruit me, huh?"
Yuuji nodded stiffly.
"Yes. Please don't kill me."
Ayaka dropped him roughly onto the grass.
"Alright, King Boy. You want me on your team? Prove you're tough enough."
She cracked her knuckles.
"Beat me in an endurance match."
Yuuji sat up, groaning.
"Define... endurance match."
Ayaka grinned wickedly.
"Simple.
You survive five minutes sparring with me without crying for mercy."
Mira hooted.
"You're dead."
Clara watched with cold amusement.
Yuuji sighed, brushing grass out of his hair.
"First ice storms, now death by muscle girl..."
He pushed himself up and stretched.
"Alright. Let's dance, Tower Girl."
Ayaka's eyes gleamed dangerously.
"Hope you like pain, King Boy!"
The training field erupted into chaos once more.