Shadow Being System

The students buzzed with excitement and nerves as they admired their chosen weapons, each marveling at the craftsmanship and power radiating from the armaments. Some proudly flaunted gleaming swords with jeweled hilts and perfectly balanced blades, while others hefted massive clubs studded with metal bands that seemed almost too heavy to wield. A few of the more agile students inspected delicate daggers, their razor-sharp edges glinting ominously under the dojo lights, testing their balance with practiced flicks of their wrists. The atmosphere was electric, filled with a mixture of awe, anticipation, and an undercurrent of competition as each student sized up their peers and their weaponry.

The weapons had been laid out that morning in the great hall, hundreds of them arranged on tables draped with black cloth. Each student had spent hours examining the options, letting their hands hover over different pieces until they found the one that called to them. Some had known instantly which weapon they would choose, while others had agonized over the decision until the very last moment.

Standing slightly apart from the others, William held his sleek black bow in one hand, the quiver of arrows slung securely over his shoulder. His fingers traced the intricate carvings etched into the bow's surface, feeling the faint hum of energy coursing through it. The weapon was a masterpiece of craftsmanship – layers of compressed wood and horn creating perfect flexibility, while maintaining incredible strength. There was something almost alive about the weapon, as though it was attuned to him, waiting for the right moment to unleash its full potential.

A tall boy approached him, his broad sword resting casually on his shoulder, a smirk plastered across his face. The blade was impressive – nearly five feet of perfectly forged steel with a crystalline sheen that suggested it was something more than mere metal. "A bow? Really? What, you planning to hunt rabbits?" he mocked, his tone dripping with condescension as he gestured to William's choice. The sword he carried glowed faintly along its edge, a clear testament to its power.

William glanced at him, unbothered, and smirked in return. "Rabbits are faster than you. I'll manage." His tone was calm, almost amused, and his retort hit its mark. The boy's smirk faltered as he huffed, muttered something under his breath, and walked off in irritation, leaving William unfazed. He had grown used to such reactions – in a school that prized close combat and dramatic displays of power, choosing a ranged weapon was seen as almost cowardly by some.

Around him, the other students had begun testing their weapons with a mixture of enthusiasm and recklessness. Swords swung through the air, leaving glowing trails in their wake, while massive hammers cracked the ground with deafening thuds. Axes whistled as they arced through the air, and daggers gleamed as they sliced effortlessly through the dummies set up for practice. The dojo buzzed with activity, the clamor of steel striking steel mixing with bursts of laughter and gasps of awe.

The practice dummies – enchanted constructs of wood, straw, and leather – repaired themselves after each strike, allowing the students to test their weapons' cutting power without restraint. Some of the more aggressive students had already reduced their targets to ribbons multiple times, while others were still experimenting with different grips and stances, trying to find their perfect form.

Despite the noise, William felt a grin tugging at his lips. The bow in his hands felt like more than just a weapon—it felt like an extension of himself, a tool perfectly suited to his abilities and nature. Its grip seemed molded to his hand, the draw weight exactly matched to his strength. As he stood there, running his fingers over the polished surface, he couldn't shake the feeling that this bow was waiting for him to unlock something greater. The thought filled him with anticipation, and he looked forward to proving himself—not to the others, but to himself and the weapon that seemed so perfectly attuned to his essence.

After all the students had chosen their weapons, the old teacher clapped his hands, drawing their attention back to the platform. His weathered face bore the scars of countless battles, and his eyes held the sharp gleam of someone who had spent decades mastering their craft. "Good," he said, his voice gruff but steady. "You may leave with these weapons and train with them as much as you like. But..." His tone shifted, becoming sharper, almost threatening. "You are forbidden to use them on one another. No fighting, no settling scores. These weapons are for the beasts, not for you to play war amongst yourselves. Break this rule, and you'll wish you hadn't."

The teacher's reputation gave weight to his words – stories circulated among the students about what had happened to the last group who had ignored his warnings. His gaze swept across the students, ensuring his warning sank in. Satisfied with their subdued nods, he waved his hand and dismissed them.

As the students poured out of the dojo, chattering excitedly about their plans for training, William slung his bow over his shoulder and secured his quiver. His mind buzzed with anticipation. It had been weeks since he last ventured into the forest, and the thought of testing his new weapon against the backdrop of nature filled him with excitement. He moved quickly, weaving through the academy grounds and heading toward the familiar path that led into the dense forest.

The academy's training grounds gave way to wild growth at the forest's edge, where ancient trees stretched their branches toward the sky. When William arrived, the familiar scent of damp earth and foliage greeted him, mingling with the faint chirping of birds hidden in the canopy above. He walked along the well-worn path, his steps deliberate as he veered purposefully away from the patches of vibrant purple flowers that dotted the forest floor. Even though he was immune to their poison, he couldn't help but wonder why the academy had allowed something so dangerous to grow here in the first place. The flowers exuded an air of menace, their sickly sweet aroma hanging heavily in the air, and William found himself instinctively keeping his distance from them as he moved deeper into the woods.

The towering trees cast long shadows across his path, their leaves forming a dense, natural ceiling that let only slivers of sunlight filter through. The deeper he ventured, the quieter the forest became, as if the life around him was holding its breath. Eventually, he reached the edge of the foggy chasm, a place that always filled him with a mixture of awe and excitement. Thick mist clung to the edges of the steep drop, swirling in ghostly patterns as it obscured the depths below. Stay connected through empire

Without hesitation, William stepped off the ledge and plunged into the chasm, the rush of air whipping past him as he descended. The fog parted around him, revealing jagged rocks jutting out from the walls and the faint shimmer of water far below. His landing was precise, a testament to his training, and he landed lightly at the bottom of the chasm, where the cool, tranquil lake awaited him.

Without pausing, he stepped into the water, letting its icy embrace wash over him as he waded deeper. Soon, he plunged fully into the lake, the chill refreshing against his skin. The water rippled gently around him, the surface shimmering faintly as sunlight struggled to penetrate the mist above. Here, surrounded by nature's untouched beauty, William felt a sense of calm and focus that he rarely experienced elsewhere. This was his sanctuary, a place where he could push his limits without the judgmental eyes of his peers.