Did I Get Reincarnated as a Supporting Character?

The next morning dawned gray and heavy, the sky over Cresthaven thick with clouds that mirrored the tension brewing in Sung-Min's chest. He tugged his uniform straight, the blue fabric still stiff against his thin frame, and headed for the training fields. His encounter with Liora lingered like a riddle he couldn't solve—her advice, her cryptic warning, the way her violet eyes had seemed to see through him. It wasn't just the trials anymore; the academy was a web of alliances and rivalries, and he'd stumbled into its threads.

The fields sprawled wide, dotted with sparring rings and rune-carved pillars that hummed with latent mana. Students clustered in groups, some stretching, others testing spells that flared and fizzled in the damp air. Sung-Min spotted Sera near a wooden dummy, her fingers tracing runes that glowed briefly before sinking into the target. She waved him over, her braids swinging as she grinned.

"Morning, hero," she teased, tossing him a practice staff from a nearby rack. "Sleep off the nerves yet?"

Sung-Min caught the staff, twirling it awkwardly. "Barely. Too much to think about." He glanced around, noting Joren's hulking figure at the far end of the field, hurling earth spikes at a target with brutal force. Darius was there too, flames licking around his fists as he sparred with another student. Liora stood apart, her staff tracing arcs of water that shimmered like glass.

Sera followed his gaze, smirking. "Quite the lineup, huh? Joren's still fuming, Darius is flexing, and Liora… well, she's Liora. You've got a knack for drawing attention."

"Not on purpose," Sung-Min muttered, gripping the staff tighter. "Just trying to keep up."

She laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. "Sure you are. Come on, let's warm up before Instructor Torv chews us out."

Instructor Torv was a bear of a man, his beard braided with iron beads, his arms scarred from battles Sung-Min could only guess at. He strode onto the field as the bell tolled, his voice a gravelly bellow. "First years! Line up! Today's practical combat—pair off, no magic, just skill. Move!"

The students scrambled, and Sung-Min found himself facing Sera, her staff raised with a playful glint in her hazel eyes. "Don't hold back," she said, dropping into a stance. "I won't."

He nodded, mirroring her pose. His body still felt foreign—weak, uncoordinated—but he'd learned a few tricks from Joren's duel. Torv's whistle blew, and Sera lunged, her staff whistling through the air. Sung-Min sidestepped, barely, and swung low, aiming for her legs. She hopped back, grinning, and countered with a jab he blocked with a clumsy twist.

"Not bad!" she called, pressing her attack. "But you're slow—use your reach!"

Sweat beaded on his brow as they traded blows, the clack of wood echoing around them. Sera was quick, precise, her movements honed by years of practice he didn't have. But Sung-Min had something else—adaptability. He watched her patterns, dodging where he could, striking where she left openings. A feint here, a sidestep there—he landed a tap on her shoulder, earning a surprised laugh.

"Gotcha," he panted, stepping back as Torv's whistle ended the round.

Sera lowered her staff, nodding. "You're scrappy, I'll give you that. Keep it up."

Torv barked orders for new pairs, and Sung-Min's stomach sank as Joren stepped into his ring, his wooden sword hefted like a club. The bigger boy's eyes burned with spite, his lips curling into a sneer. "Round two, runt. No tricks this time."

Sung-Min tightened his grip, forcing a grin. "Wouldn't dream of it." Inside, his nerves churned—Joren outweighed him by a mile, and without magic, this was pure brawn against wits.

The whistle blew, and Joren charged, his sword slashing down with enough force to splinter bone. Sung-Min ducked, the blade grazing his hair, and darted to the side, jabbing at Joren's ribs. The hit landed, but Joren barely flinched, swinging again. Sung-Min rolled, the ground hard against his back, and sprang up, staff trembling in his hands.

"Stand still and fight!" Joren roared, lunging. Sung-Min sidestepped, sweeping his staff low like before—but Joren was ready, stomping down to pin it. The wood cracked, and Sung-Min stumbled, defenseless.

Joren's sword came down, stopping an inch from Sung-Min's throat as Torv's whistle cut through. "Enough! Joren wins."

Sung-Min exhaled, his chest heaving, as Joren smirked and tossed his sword aside. "Next time, you're done," he spat, stalking off. The crowd murmured, some snickering, others casting Sung-Min sidelong glances. He brushed dirt from his tunic, his pride stinging more than his body. He'd lost, fair and square—no magic, no shortcuts.

Sera jogged over, offering a hand. "You okay? That ox doesn't know when to quit."

"Yeah," Sung-Min said, taking her hand and pulling himself up. "Just need to get stronger."

Torv's voice boomed again. "Break for lunch, then back here for magic drills. Move it!"

As the students dispersed, Sung-Min lingered, watching Joren join Darius's circle. The two laughed, their voices carrying over the field—mocking, no doubt. He clenched his fists, the faint green spark flickering in his palm. Losing sucked, but it lit a fire under him. He wouldn't stay this weak forever.

The afternoon drills were a different beast. Torv paired them off again, this time with magic allowed, and Sung-Min faced a wiry boy named Kael—dark-haired, quiet, with a knack for lightning that crackled around his fingers. Sung-Min's wind blade felt flimsy in comparison, but he squared his shoulders, determined to make it work.

"Begin!" Torv shouted.

Kael struck first, a bolt snapping toward Sung-Min's chest. He dodged, the air sizzling where he'd stood, and swung his wind blade, aiming for Kael's arm. The boy parried with a shield of sparks, grinning. "Fast, but weak!"

Sung-Min gritted his teeth, focusing. Liora's advice echoed—center it, push. He pulled the mana inward, the green light tightening into a sharper edge. He swung again, and this time it sliced through Kael's shield, grazing his sleeve before dissipating.

Kael blinked, then laughed. "Okay, not bad!" He unleashed a flurry of bolts, forcing Sung-Min to weave and dodge, his wind flaring to deflect what he could. The exchange was quick, messy, but Sung-Min held his own until Torv called it a draw.

"Good," Torv grunted as they stepped back. "Both of you—work on control. Next!"

Sung-Min wiped sweat from his brow, catching his breath. Kael nodded at him, a flicker of respect in his eyes, before wandering off. Progress—small, but real. His magic was growing, bit by bit.

As the drills wound down, Sung-Min noticed Liora watching from the sidelines, her staff idle. She'd dominated her own match, her water mana coiling like a whip to disarm her opponent in seconds. When their eyes met, she tilted her head slightly—a silent acknowledgment—before turning away.

Sera joined him, nudging his arm. "She's got her eye on you. What'd you do, charm her with that twiggy frame?"

Sung-Min snorted. "Hardly. She's just… curious, I guess."

"Uh-huh," Sera said, unconvinced. "Well, keep her curious. Allies like that don't come cheap."

The day ended with the sun dipping low, painting the fields gold. Sung-Min trudged back to his dorm, his body bruised but his mind alight. Joren's win stung, but it was a lesson—strength mattered here, and he'd need more than tricks to match it. Darius loomed as a bigger threat, his fire a wall Sung-Min couldn't yet breach. And Liora… her interest was a thread he couldn't quite grasp, but it pulled at him.

He collapsed onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. The novel's plot was a distant echo now—Kang-Jae still absent, the heroines shifting in ways they shouldn't. Sung-Min was no protagonist, but he wasn't a side character anymore either. He was something else, something new.

A faint breeze stirred the room, unbidden, as his mana flickered green in the dark. He smiled, closing his eyes. Let them watch. Let them challenge him. He'd rise—or he'd burn trying.