Larna stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom from under his blanket, the tingling in his chest keeping him awake.

  Thirty days. That was the time he had to enter the top twenty best novices of the city.

  His forehead wrinkled. It didn't matter how much he tried... I can’t see myself doing it. He turned to one side and burrowed into the blanket, hoping that something would come to his mind tomorrow.

  —

  Larna rested his head on his left hand. He was grabbing a pencil with the other, opening holes into the eraser… until the tip broke.

  A ‘tsk’ escaped his mouth, to Larna’s horror, echoing in the silent classroom.

  He straightened his back on the chair, his eyes darting around nervously. He pretended to be very focused on reading his notebook until there were no more eyes on him.

  He brought the pencil to his lips when the danger passed, his legs jiggling under the table. What could this thing be? His advantage had to be something he already knew about battle.

  He mentally reviewed each of his battles until it was the turn of the third and last one. Analyzer's unexpressive face appeared in his mind, a word linked to it. Predictability.

  Predict my enemies's movements... A warmth spread in Larna’s chest as he imagined himself slipping past the attacks.

  He quickly wrote it in his notebook and circled it. This has to be!

  —

  Larna stared at Vale. His body was in motion, leaning forward and suddenly back as he evaded a blade. Beads of sweat ran down his face. His breathing was agitated. The muscles of his face tensed as he lunged forward.

  Larna widened his eyes, trying to sharpen his focus, but… Too late. He slumped against the back of the bench with a sigh.

  He could manage to see faint signs on Vale that gave clues to his next move. But by the time he analyzed those clues, Vale had swung his blades.

  It won't work. His mouth turned into a resigned smile. Back to zero again.

  He watched his friend as his eyes glistened. How'll he feel if I don't make it?

  It wasn't hard to imagine. He would celebrate his own victory, but his smile would fade when he looked at me. Also, he would surely try to find another event or push me to train harder.* Larna sighed. That's how he is.

  "Uh?" Larna blinked, his brow furrowing. Did I just…

  His hand slowly rose to cover the wide grin on his mouth.

  —

  Another day, another time that Larna sat to watch Vale fight.

  His opponent today was a muscular guy with a shaved head. He was carrying a weapon consisting of a stick with a spikey ball at its tip. Battle referred to it as ‘morning star.’

  Larna dismissed the battle interface and looked at the battlers, about to begin the duel.

  Since Larna had that realization, he had been practicing to predict Vale’s movements. And it had worked… sometimes.

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  But his predictions based on his enemy's personality had been working thanks that he and Vale had been friends for three weeks already.

  In exchange, he had never seen the muscular guy before.

  Predicting some of Vale’s moves was satisfying, but he wasn't going to fight against him always.

  For his ‘predicting’ to be a solid skill, he had to somehow be capable of using it against strangers.

  Larna did his best to focus. How could he, with his predictions based on personality, predict someone whose personality he didn't know?

  He sighed. There has to be some way.

  Until he thought about something, he could only watch the battle.

  Vale was dodging the muscular guy's powerful attacks and used his agile weapons to punish him every chance. He had gotten better.

  For the moment, the muscular guy looked full of energy and continued his powerful attacks, expecting to catch Vale.

  They move differently, he realized. And the more he looked at the two battlers, the more their ways of battling clashed.

  The muscular guy's moves were fiercer and stronger, and his scowl deepened with each failed attack.

  Isn't that a hint of his personality? Larna's eyes followed the muscular guy.

  Reckless, confident, those were the first things that came to Larna’s mind when watching him.

  Those traits were like pieces of a puzzle; they were few, but placing them on the board was enough to start working.

  Based on what Larna knew about him, it was obvious he would keep attacking. He is angry because he had not managed to catch Vale. He surely thinks he can't let him go like that. Oh, ‘prideful’, there goes another piece.

  Larna was conscious that the pieces he had discovered were just suppositions. He didn't know the man well enough to be completely sure of his traits. Still, if the pieces he had were fake, he could always replace them.

  The suppositions seemed to be correct as the guy pushed through his own tiredness and continued growling and swinging his morning star.

  The fire on Larna's chest heated up, sending a satisfying thrill through his body. He had managed to guess the muscular guy's personality using his common sense and rusty social knowledge.

  He was conscious of knowing that a battler was impulsive and prideful—although useful—wasn't enough to guarantee victory.

  Still, Larna grinned widely. Now he was capable of predicting strangers. Ladies and gentlemen, looks like I've got a skill. A pretty cool one!

  Paying attention back at the battle, he didn't need to predict anything to know that it was about to end.

  Go for it, Vale.

  Vale smirked as he evaded another attack. The muscular guy was breathing heavily, and the missed attack made him lose his balance.

  Vale took the opportunity and lunged forward. His joined blades sliced through the muscular guy's abdomen, making Larna jump off the bench with excitement.

  The Battle Scenario faded, and both Battlers and he were back in the Battle Center.

  The muscular guy stared wide-eyed at the floor.

  He won't take it well, Larna thought, growing serious. But smiled at Vale, who grinned widely and made a thumbs-up sign to him.

  Vale walked towards his opponent and stopped in front of him. The muscular guy looked up at him. Veins bulged on his shaved head when he saw the smile on Vale's face.

  Larna tensed his feet. This doesn't look good.

  Vale ignored the guy's obvious anger and extended his hand to him. “Thanks for the battle.”

  The muscular guy glared at Vale's hand. But completely opposite to Larna's predictions, he took it.

  A good loser? Larna tilted his head. I don't know. A piece like that didn't fit in the muscular guy's puzzle.

  His suspicions turned real as the bald’s biceps tightened and his knuckles became white. He clenched his teeth, putting all his strength into the grip.

  Vale growled, trying to pull his hand free. But the muscular guy didn't let him go. He charged his other arm back, fist closed. His punch rocketed straight towards Vale's face.

  But it stopped.

  The muscular guy glared at his arm to see two hands wrapped around it, and Larna pulling it away from Vale with the force of his entire body.

  Larna glared back at him. His blood boiled just by thinking that if he hadn't stopped him, he would have seriously damaged Vale.

  His grip on the muscular guy's arm strengthened, and a rush of excitement flowed through him amid the anger. He could finally say it.

  "You're too predictable."