Ancestors of the Lost Heroes: Journey in Another World

"When working in the training facility, don't be afraid to use your bloodline to its full potential. Only attacks strong enough to harm an Enforcer will leave any mark on these mannequins," Professor Bain explains as he watches the students familiarize themselves with the dojo's layout.

Alex studies the training mannequin before him, noting its peculiar construction. Though its surface gleams with metallic sheen, the material feels tough as bark beneath his fingers. The joints bend with elastic fluidity, mimicking the natural restrictions and movements of human muscle.

The mannequin's face remains eerily featureless, save for a slight protrusion suggesting a nose. As Alex examines these curious details, a shadow falls across his inspection.

"Not used to seeing training dummies, are you?" Derek's voice drips with condescension as he looms over Alex. "Why would you be? Only noble households can afford such creations. Even the lowest noble families struggle to maintain more than a few. You should be thankful that nobles like myself share even a small portion of our wealth to let commoners enjoy such commodities." He puffs out his chest with exaggerated pride.

"Oh, it's thanks to the nobles we have these? I thought Merlin brought them," Alex replies dismissively, refusing to acknowledge Derek's attempted provocation.

"Hmph, you even address our great Headmaster as merely 'Merlin.' Clearly, you don't understand your position at all. Besides, Merlin himself is a noble," Derek retorts with growing irritation.

"Yeah, yeah, say whatever you want. I'm here for the same reason as you, so how about you leave me and my friends alone?" Alex attempts to broker peace, hoping to ease tensions for the coming school year.

"Sorry, can't help you there. Those higher up have already set their sights on you - should have known better than to provoke them," Derek says as he retreats, attempting to deliver his threat with villainous gravitas while disappearing into a shadowy corridor.

'What an idiot,' Alex thinks, watching Derek's melodramatic exit with thinly veiled contempt.

Making his way over to Randy and Max, he finds his friends engaged in an animated debate about the weapons adorning the dojo walls.

"The katana is clearly the superior sword," Randy insists, wielding a wooden practice version with theatrical flourish. His hands dance through the motions of drawing and sheathing the blade with practiced precision.

"No way, you've got it all wrong," Max counters, hefting a wooden longsword with his enhanced strength. "The longsword's the best - perfect balance of reach and power." He demonstrates with a powerful forward thrust.

"But you sacrifice maneuverability in close quarters," Randy argues, playfully darting forward to demonstrate the katana's swift striking potential.

"Doesn't matter if I take you down before you get that close," Max retorts with a confident grin.

"Hey, no hypotheticals - we're dealing in facts here!" Randy protests, his competitive spirit showing through.

"It is a fact," Max insists, clearly enjoying the banter. "If I knock you out before you get within striking distance, game over. Simple as that." His smug expression betrays the playful absurdity of his logic.

"Actually, you're both wrong - the staff is clearly superior," Alex interjects, retrieving a wooden staff that matches his height from the weapon rack.

"Did you hit your head or something? How could a stick possibly outmatch my longsword?" Max scoffs.

"Or my katana, for that matter," Randy adds, equally skeptical of Alex's claim.

"Think about it strategically," Alex explains, adopting a scholarly tone as he grips the staff with practiced precision. "While shorter than a longsword, it still offers greater reach than a katana, giving you the best of both worlds. But you're overlooking the magical applications. A staff might not match the katana's speed or the longsword's raw power, but you can imbue it with magic to compensate for those limitations."

"Then why not just enchant the longsword and katana with magic too?" Randy counters, his logic cutting through Alex's argument like a perfectly aimed strike.

Alex freezes, his scholarly facade crumbling as the obvious flaw in his reasoning becomes apparent. "Ah... fair point," he concedes, carefully returning the staff to its mount.

"Dumbass," Max mutters, amused by his friend's oversight.

"Still, combat here operates on entirely different principles than back home," Alex muses, his transformed eyes scanning the array of weapons lining the dojo walls. "Especially considering the magical elements we've yet to fully understand. Notice how there isn't a single firearm in sight? Makes sense, given they didn't exist in their time." His observation carries the weight of their displacement, a subtle reminder of the vast differences between their worlds.

"I mean, we could probably make guns, right?" Max ponders, uncertain about the boundaries between their world's technology and this realm's magical innovations.

"We could try, but recreating them from memory alone would be challenging," Randy contemplates, his analytical mind already at work. "We'd likely need to substitute many components with magical alternatives."

"While drawing inspiration from home isn't a bad idea, we need to master what's here first," Alex interjects, his transformed eyes reflecting purpose. "Our priority is gaining enough strength to seek information about the lost heroes. Let's focus on understanding this world before trying to reshape it."

"Agreed," Randy and Max respond in unison, their determination matching Alex's.

Their strategic discussion falls silent as Professor Bain returns to command the class's attention. "Gather round, everyone. It's time to demonstrate one of the dojo's unique features." He stands beside what appears to be a massive crystal sphere, its pristine surface nestled within an ornate shrine.

The students form a semicircle around their professor, watching with growing fascination as he approaches the mystical orb. With practiced precision, Professor Bain extends his fingers, pressing them deep into the crystal's surface. The sphere responds to his touch, its pure white radiance shifting to a brilliant azure as an otherworldly hum resonates through the chamber.

The students pivot in unison, drawn by the ethereal sound. Behind them, the previously lifeless mannequins spring into motion, their movements mechanical yet purposeful as they march to the dojo's center. Each step carries the weight of ancient magic, their artificial bodies moving with an uncanny precision that bridges the gap between construct and combatant.

Six mannequins stand facing each other from opposite sides of the room. Along their edges, a misty blue magic flows, slowly transforming their outer appearance. The magical fog reshapes them into a group of battle-ready adventurers, their forms detailed and lifelike.

Murmurs ripple through the room - information about the academy's capabilities is usually closely guarded, making this display particularly intriguing. Even the nobles can't hide their surprise as they watch the mannequins take on the appearances of different people. Traditional training dummies typically only imitate basic fighting stances, but these clearly demonstrate capabilities far beyond the ordinary.

"Through these enhanced training dummies, we can simulate battles of historic relevance and circumstance," Professor Baines explains, his voice carrying across the attentive classroom. "Throughout the year, we'll use them to place you in various scenarios requiring quick thinking and adaptation. You might find yourself surrounded by multiple enemies, facing a formidable solo opponent that demands teamwork, or engaging in team-versus-team combat."

He pauses, adjusting his stance before continuing, "While these dummies can only simulate humanoid opponents, we have other methods to emulate demons and monsters. However, that's a lesson for another day. For now, this demonstration should suffice to show you the training dummies' capabilities."

Returning the mannequins to their resting place, Professor Bain withdraws his hand from the crystal orb. "Here at the Academy, we employ diverse training tools to forge the greatest warriors. Yet physical and magical prowess represents only part of your education. What of the intellectual side?" His eyes sweep across the gathered students. "For that, we turn to the Arcane Library - a sanctuary where knowledge awaits those willing to pursue it."

Professor Bain leads his class to the familiar halls where Alex, Randy, and Max spent their previous weeks studying. Already well-versed in the library's workings, the three friends hang back, taking the opportunity to observe their classmates. Alex's attention particularly fixes on Stella.

As students disperse to locate their assigned readings using the method Alex had mastered weeks before, their selections span from fantasy to scholarly works, each choice revealing something of its seeker. Stella, however, deliberately selects a tome about the legendary heroes.

Noting Stella's direction, Alex turns to his friends. "Hey guys, I'm going to catch up with Stella for a moment - want to thank her for helping us before."

"Oh sure, just 'thanking' her," Max responds with an exaggerated wink and OK sign.

"Shut up, man," Alex mutters, shaking his head at Max's teasing as he follows Stella's path through the shelves. He finds her examining her chosen book, her form illuminated by the library's ethereal light.

Hearing his approach, Stella looks up, adjusting her glasses with practiced grace. "Need something from me?" she asks, her voice carrying quiet authority.

"Yeah, well..." Alex steps closer, gathering his thoughts. "I know it probably didn't mean much to you, but I wanted to thank you for stopping Derek that day. When he was about to..." His voice trails off, the memory of that confrontation hanging between them.

"Oh that?" Stella waves her hand dismissively. "No problem. I could tell you were new to the Academy since you hadn't awakened yet." She laughs softly, a hint of irony in her voice. "I just did what any self-respecting person would do. Not that being noble counts for much anymore."

"Yeah, we learned our lesson the hard way," Alex responds. "Derek's been causing trouble, but we can handle it now. Still, I wanted to thank you properly for helping us. If you ever need assistance with homework or anything..." He trails off, knowing his offer pales in comparison to her life-saving intervention, but feeling compelled to extend some gesture of gratitude.

Stella shifts her weight, placing her hands on her hips as laughter dances in her eyes. "Thank you for offering, Alex, but you and your friends are still finding your footing here. I doubt there's much you could teach me yet." Her smile softens the words' edge. "Though who knows? I might take you up on that offer someday."

Her smug expression puzzles Alex, but he brushes it aside. "Well, I should head back. Just wanted to say thanks, so... see you around."

"See you around?" Stella's amusement bubbles over. "It's not like we're in the same class or anything."

"Yeah, we're in the... wait, what?" Alex stammers, realization hitting him like a physical force. "Right, same class..." He retreats, embarrassment coloring his words.

Walking away, Alex presses a hand against his forehead, internally berating himself. 'Bro, you blew it. How can you not talk to a cute girl like a normal person? What is wrong with you?' He pinches the bridge of his nose, mortification burning through his thoughts as he contemplates his social ineptitude.

Because beneath Alex's composed exterior lies a typical 15-year-old boy, one who's never navigated the complexities of dating or managed a genuine conversation with a girl he finds attractive. Each interaction with the opposite sex becomes a personal chronicle of awkwardness, replaying in his mind like a particularly cringe-worthy highlight reel. Yet this, too, marks an essential part of growing up - for every confident man started somewhere, usually with stumbled words and missed social cues that would eventually transform into the building blocks of experience.