That settled the matter, and the students begrudgingly accepted.
"Good. Now let's end the lesson here. You all have assignments to work on," Orlen said.
Turning to Alia and Maria, he added, "Alia, take the equipment to the storeroom. Maria, help her out, will you?"
Maria hesitated but nodded. She still hadn't figured out why Alia seemed upset with her, but this was as good an opportunity as any to find out.
As the students dispersed, Arlon reflected on the match. Orlen's teaching style might be unconventional, but he truly cares about his students, he thought.
And while Arlon was one of the few to appreciate that, the students were too busy grumbling about their new assignments to notice.
---
Maria followed Alia toward the equipment room, her hands clutching a small but heavy crate filled with gear.
The awkward silence between them felt heavier than the equipment they were carrying.
Why is she angry with me? Maria wondered, glancing at Alia's back. She had tried to piece it together during the match but failed to reach a conclusion.
Now, she knew she couldn't avoid addressing the issue any longer.
The equipment room was on the far side of the academy grounds, a small building tucked away near the training fields.
As they walked, Maria considered breaking the silence several times, but Alia's stiff posture and lack of eye contact made her hesitate.
It was as if the Alia that greeted them in the morning was someone else.
Once they reached the equipment room, Alia pushed the door open and motioned for Maria to set her crate on the shelf. Maria complied, carefully placing the gear down and wiping her hands on her uniform.
"Okay," Maria said, turning to face Alia. "I can't take it anymore. Why are you mad at me?"
Alia froze for a moment, then sighed and leaned against the wall, crossing her arms. She looked at Maria, her expression a mix of irritation and something deeper—disappointment.
"You really don't know?" Alia asked.
"No," Maria admitted, her voice quieter. "But I want to. Orlen told me to figure it out, and I... I want to fix things."
Alia stared at her for a moment, as if deciding whether Maria deserved an explanation. Finally, she spoke.
"It's about how you used your spirit in the match," Alia said, her tone sharp.
Maria blinked. "My spirit?"
"Yes." Alia's voice grew more forceful. "You used your contracted spirit's body as a shield. A shield, Maria."
Maria's confusion deepened. "But... isn't that normal? I mean, they don't die and it's part of my summoner abilities, right?"
Alia's eyes narrowed. "No, it's not. Summoned spirits aren't just tools or spells. They're your companions, your partners. You're supposed to protect them, not throw them in harm's way like they're disposable."
Maria's breath caught, and she looked away, her mind racing.
Companions? Partners?
Maria tried to process Alia's words, but they felt so distant from her own understanding. She had learned during training that Trion wasn't just a game—it was real, with real people and real consequences. And yet, there were things she still hadn't fully accepted.
She had spent so many years treating summoners' spirits as game mechanics—resources to be used, stats to be calculated, and assets to be sacrificed for the win.
Even after learning the truth about Trion, some part of her still held onto that mindset.
It's because of my habits, she realized. I've been stuck in the same way of thinking, even though everything is different now. I thought I understood, but... I didn't really change. That's why I used the lion's torso like that. I didn't think of it as anything more than a shield.
A wave of guilt swept over her as the truth hit home. Her spirit wasn't just a tool—it was a living entity that had trusted her, and she had treated it carelessly.
No wonder Alia was angry. I would've been, too, if I were in her position.
She didn't know this, but summoners had different thoughts about what Alia said. Some thought like her, treating the spirits as companions.
However, some used and saw them as mere tools. That is why, especially when Maria said "they don't die", Alia was extra angry. Continue reading stories on My Virtual Library Empire
It would be better if the spirits died in her mind, otherwise, it was like torture at the hands of the wrong summoners.
Maria turned back to Alia with tears in her eyes. "I didn't realize. You're right. I treated my spirit like it was disposable, and that's wrong. I'm sorry."
Alia raised an eyebrow, her arms still crossed. "Do you really mean that? Or are you just apologizing because Orlen told you to?"
Maria shook her head. "I mean it. I... I think I've been stuck seeing this world a bit differently because of some situations.
But now I understand—spirits aren't tools. They're alive, and they trust us. I broke that trust, and I regret it."
"What do you mean differently? Didn't anyone teach you about spirits before?"
Maria hooked her head slowly.
Alia's posture relaxed upon seeing her answer. "You know," she said with a small smirk, "it seems like you're not hopeless. Just... clueless."
Maria laughed softly. "I'll take that as a compliment."
Alia pushed off the wall, stepping closer. "You sound like you mean it," she said. "And I appreciate that.
But if you want to make it right, you need to do more than apologize. You need to change how you see your spirits—and how you fight with them."
"I will," Maria said firmly. "I'll make it right, I promise."
The two of them finished organizing the equipment in companionable silence.
As they walked back toward the main academy building, Maria felt lighter, as though a weight she hadn't even noticed had been lifted.
She glanced at Alia. "Thanks, by the way."
Alia shrugged. "Someone had to teach you. Besides, we summoners need to stick together."
Maria nodded, feeling for the first time like she understood what that truly meant.