Chapter 51: Sparring Gone Wrong?
"So... what’s your deal?"
Anastasia sat on the couch opposite Ronan and Sarael, legs crossed, looking more than unimpressed.
She knew she wasn’t in any real danger, not with her father still in the house. That gave her more than enough confidence to interrogate her new so-called tutor about his capabilities.
"My deal?" Ronan answered bluntly. "I’m just a hunter here to train you."
Clearly, that wasn’t the kind of answer she wanted.
"That much is obvious. I meant your hunter rank, class, and whatever else."
"I don’t see how that’s important..."
"Of course it’s important. How are you supposed to train me when I don’t even know what you specialize in?"
Ronan sighed and stood up.
Yeah, no way he was going to spill his information to this random girl. He was here to train her, not introduce himself. It was about time he actually started earning that S-Rank sword.
"Come on. Let’s just train."
"Hey, wait—"
Ronan grabbed her by the back of her shirt collar and dragged her toward the training room he had seen earlier. Anastasia immediately began thrashing in his grip.
First, she tugged at her shirt, trying to make him let go. Then she reached for his hand itself.
And that was when she felt it.
Skin that didn’t feel like skin.
It was like a fly touching steel. There was no give at all. Not even the slightest softness that could suggest this man was human.
"W-What?"
"Does that answer your question?"
When they arrived at the training room, Ronan tossed her forward.
Anastasia caught herself immediately, spinning twice before planting her feet firmly on the floor.
"H-How high is your constitution...!?"
"Not important. What’s important is that I want to test your combat capabilities."
Ronan looked at Sarael.
"You observed the way I fight, right?"
"Mhm."
"Try observing her as well. Check how we compare in terms of efficiency."
Sarael nodded and moved to the side of the rectangular training room. She sat down, watching them like a judge.
"Is she a hunter as well?" Anastasia asked.
"Yeah."
Anastasia nodded, then walked over to the weapon rack.
But the weapon she grabbed was definitely not what Ronan had expected.
"A rifle...?"
"Never seen a hunter with one?"
"I have. It’s just interesting to see one. Not many use them."
"Well, if you have generational wealth, that isn’t really a problem."
Ronan wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be annoyed by that comment.
So he decided to do neither.
"Ready?"
He asked, but Anastasia immediately raised a hand.
"You sure you want to do this in our indoor training room? We have an outdoor one if you want."
Anastasia’s concern seemed to be more for the building itself than for their safety. After touching a hunter whose skin felt as tough as steel, she wasn’t exactly comfortable sparring indoors.
"I can control my strength. Don’t worry."
"W-Well... okay."
Anastasia exhaled, then raised her rifle, already aiming it at Ronan’s face.
"Three, two, one..."
Anastasia fired the moment the count hit zero.
The bullet crossed the distance in a fraction of a second, aimed squarely at Ronan’s chest. By hunter standards, it was a non-lethal shot, but it was more than enough to test someone’s reflexes.
THUD!
The bullet struck him dead in the chest.
It didn’t even graze him.
Anastasia’s eyes widened, but before she could process what she had just seen, Ronan’s voice snapped her back to the fight.
"Don’t get distracted. Assume I’m a dungeon boss."
Anastasia bit her lower lip and steadied herself, then fired more rounds.
One after another, the bullets bounced off Ronan like they were made of plastic.
FWOOSH!
Then Ronan lunged.
He closed the distance in an instant, and Anastasia immediately responded with a swift kick aimed at his chest.
Ronan caught it.
Using her leg as leverage, he flung her across the room.
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
But to his surprise, Anastasia didn’t panic.
She fired midair as the ground beneath her foot suddenly rose into a valley of ice, catching her and allowing her to land smoothly. The moment her feet touched the ground, she continued firing.
"Good. Keep it up. I want to see how you fight against a tank."
✧ ✦ ✧
"Impressive..."
John muttered from his bedroom, scrolling through his phone as he lounged against the headboard, the distant sound of Anastasia’s gunfire echoing through the mansion.
He was watching the training room through the mansion’s CCTV system, staring at the new tutor he had hired, quite literally tanking every bullet Anastasia fired at him.
"Must be some sort of tank class..."
On the screen, Anastasia unconsciously began switching to real bullets, pouring magic into each shot as she struck Ronan over and over again.
Ronan didn’t even notice.
Neither of them did.
The difference was so subtle that it still looked like a spar, even though Anastasia’s instincts had already begun treating it like a real fight.
"I should stop them before—"
THUD!
A powerful sound suddenly echoed through the footage.
John froze.
A bullet-shaped hole had appeared in the wall.
It had come from Ronan deflecting one of Anastasia’s bullets with his hand, swiping it aside as casually as if he were brushing away dust.
And yet, that single deflection had left a dent in an S-Rank training room.
"T-The..."
✧ ✦ ✧
"Hell!?"
Anastasia yelled, staring at the damaged wall.
Thousands of dollars’ worth of damage, all from a single swipe of Ronan’s hand.
"I-I thought you could control your strength!?"
"And I thought you were using fake bullets!?"
Ronan shot back, looking just as bewildered as she was.
He had controlled his strength. Properly, even. Just enough that bullets like those should have dented the wall, not punched a hole clean through it.
Except the bullets were apparently much stronger than he had expected. And he definitely did not want to pay for the damages for something that wasn’t ’entirely’ his fault.
His eyes darted around the room until they landed on the camera in the corner.
Then, without hesitation, he stared directly into it.
"I-I’m not at fault for this one, am I—?"
"—No, you’re not."
John arrived not long after, an amused smile on his face.
"I just found out the tutor I hired for only an S-Rank sword and two million is as durable as a tank. I’d say I got my money’s worth. Honestly, I don’t even care about the wall."
He smiled, then gestured for them to follow.
"Come with me. I may have a better training room for you two to use."
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