Prince of Gluttony: Born from Betrayal

Cain's next class used to be his least favorite. It wasn't one he could skip though as it was a core class that needed to be completed if he wanted to graduate.

Practical Combat Techniques. Known simply as Fighting 101.

The class was held outside in one of the school's many training grounds. Since he was already late, Cain could already hear the clash of metal and the smell of sweat in the air.

The combat Instructor for the class was surprisingly an elf. However, unlike most of his kin, Mr. Natorio lived by the blade. Elves as a mystic race were better known for their magical prowess that came at the cost of their physical strength.

Mr. Natorio was the exact opposite of that. Muscle training, Weapon training. Weight training. If it was physical, he was into it.

The result of his fascination was fascinating in itself. Elves were normally frail and thin while the instructor was the definition of a macho body builder.

His long silver hair was tied into a tight braid that hung down his back, and his pointed ears twitched at every sound. Despite his massive frame, he moved with the grace of a seasoned warrior. Every motion was efficient, precise, and practiced.

Cain hurried to the edge of the training grounds, hoping he wouldn't draw too much attention. The class was already underway, students sparring in pairs while Mr. Natorio walked between them, correcting stances and barking orders.

Cain tried to stay low as he approached the sparring grounds, but it was pointless.

"Cain!" a voice barked across the field like a war drum. "You're late."

Cain winced. There was no hiding from that voice.

Mr. Natorio turned with a scowl that quickly shifted into something else as he got a good look at Cain. His sharp green eyes scanned him from head to toe.

"What the hell happened to you?" he asked, tossing a wooden training sword with one hand. "You get bit by a demon or something?"

Cain fumbled the catch when he heard the word demon but managed to recover. "Something like that."

"You used to be built like a twig," Natorio said, circling him like a predator sizing up prey. "Now you look like you could bench-press a minotaur."

Cain scratched the back of his neck and let out a weak laugh. "Ah, I've been working out...?"

Natorio snorted. "Don't bullshit me."

Cain shrugged. "Fell into a dungeon. Came out looking like this."

That actually got a laugh out of the instructor. Short and rough, like rocks grinding together.

"Fine. Keep your secrets. It's about time that the class breaks up into pairs for some sparring sessions. No Abel with you today?"

Cain's expression immediately darkened.

"No. We're… not exactly on speaking terms right now."

Natorio raised a brow. "That so?"

Cain hesitated, then sighed. "I filed for a duel."

The instructor blinked. "You filed a what now?"

Cain looked him straight in the eye. "A duel to the death."

That stunned the instructor, who stared at Cain like he'd just grown a second head.

"What the hell did he do? Try to kill you or something?"

Cain nodded once. "Yeah. He did."

The training grounds grew oddly quiet, the ambient clatter of swords and shouting fading as a few nearby students picked up on the sudden tension.

Natorio stared at him for a moment longer, then blew out a sharp breath through his nose.

"Damn. I always knew that boy had a a screw loose, but I didn't think he was that insane."

Cain didn't respond. He just stood there, jaw tight.

Natorio narrowed his eyes. "You serious about this?"

"Dead serious."

There was a beat of silence before Natorio muttered, "Well, hell. Guess I will have to give you some extra training so you can prepare."

He jerked his head toward the center of the field.

"Get your ass in the ring. We'll see what you're working with now."

Cain followed without a word. His grip on the training sword tightened as he stepped into the open circle. Students had already begun to gather, sensing something different in the air. No one was whispering. They were just watching.

Natorio cracked his neck and picked up his own training blade. It looked small in his massive hands.

"You're not the same kid who used to wheeze after three swings, right? So show me. If you're gonna fight to kill, you better train to survive. There is no need to hold back. Go all out."

Natorio took a step back, tapping the wooden sword against his palm as he stared at Cain from across the ring.

"Drop it."

Cain blinked in confusion as he stopped midstretch, an attempt to warm up before they began.

"What?"

"The training sword. Toss it. You're not gonna fight Abel with a toy. I wanna see what you're really bringing to the ring."

Cain didn't argue.

He let the wooden blade fall to the dirt with a dull thud, then reached behind his back. His fingers curled around the hilts of the weapons he now called his own.

Twin curved blades, dark and gleaming, slid free from their sheaths with a low metallic whisper. They were shaped like the fangs of some great beast. It was undeniably savage yet elegant, and clearly built to kill.

Gasps rippled through the crowd of students. Even Natorio tilted his head slightly at the sight.

Cain lowered into a stance, knees bent low, shoulders relaxed, the blades angled forward like claws ready to tear. His breathing slowed. His gaze sharpened.

A predator preparing to strike.

Natorio grinned. "That's more like it."

Cain exploded forward.

It wasn't a measured step or a careful approach. It was a wild, reckless dash, blades raised high. For a moment, it looked like he was going to make the rookie mistake of charging headfirst at someone far stronger.

Natorio's expression twisted in disappointment. "Sloppy—"

Then Cain vanished.

In a blink, he was gone.

Not fast. Not dodging. Just gone.

A heartbeat later, he reappeared at Natorio's right side, mid-swing, blades whistling through the air.

Natorio's eyes lit up with surprised delight.

"Hah!"

He twisted just in time, his wooden sword snapping up to intercept the metal edge. The two weapons collided with a sharp crack, the force rippling through the air.

For a moment, neither moved.

Then Natorio let out a short laugh.

"Now that's more like it. You're finally thinking."

He then shoved Cain back with a single arm, sending the latter skidding backwards across the dirt.

"Again."