Chapter 52: Another Worshipper?
The "better training room" was hidden beneath the mansion’s backyard, accessible through a concealed elevator disguised as a garden shed.
When the doors opened, Anastasia found herself staring into a massive underground chamber. It was a perfect cube of reinforced concrete, its walls covered in faintly glowing arrays.
"They absorb impacts."
John explained.
"And repair the damage afterward."
The ceiling rose high enough for aerial combat, while the floor was marked with a grid for positioning drills. Along the far wall, weapon racks held swords, staves, and firearms far more advanced than the rifle Anastasia had used upstairs.
Apparently, this was what John considered a proper training room.
"My daughter will explain the rest. I’ll be upstairs dealing with work."
"I have a question," Sarael said. "Why didn’t you offer this room earlier?"
John smiled. "I wanted to see if you two actually deserved to use it."
"So..." Ronan raised a brow.
"Correct. That was the test."
John smiled, then walked toward the stairs and left the three of them behind. Sarael watched him go with an expression that made it seem as though she had just taken mental notes.
"Is this how tests usually go? There seems to be a pattern."
"Yes and no..."
Ronan answered.
"Everything that had happened recently was tests from people confident in their own skills. Most people would be more honest about it."
"Does that mean we should also hold tests like that in the future? We are confident in our skills, after all."
"Well, I’m not against it."
While the two continued talking, Anastasia had already moved toward the weapon rack and picked up a more advanced rifle.
It was something her father definitely hadn’t allowed her to use before. He had called it "a weapon that needs a proper guide" before he could permit her to handle it.
And it seemed that condition had now been fulfilled.
"Hey, can I make a request?"
Anastasia’s earlier bravado and irritation toward Ronan had dampened slightly. Although, considering the damage left in the wall, it had certainly been replaced by something else.
"Yes?"
Sarael answered for him, her ears locking onto the word "request" the moment she heard it in relation to her husband.
Letting Sarael read romance novels on his phone during their downtime had apparently not been the best idea. She’d absorbed every page of jealousy tropes and dramatic misunderstandings like scripture.
Now, he had just given Sarael an extra dose of unrealistic paranoia.
"Well, I’d like to spar with you as well."
Sarael’s shadow dimmed the instant she heard the request, her mood shifting in a heartbeat.
"Of course. I’ll be more than happy to help."
[I’ll show her how much better I am.]
Ronan’s system chimed, and the moment he read it, he placed a hand on Sarael’s shoulder.
"Don’t kill her."
"Don’t worry. I won’t."
✧ ✦ ✧
Two hours.
Apparently, that was all it took for the room to transform completely into a winter paradise by the time Anastasia and Sarael finished sparring.
Sarael hadn’t moved once.
She had simply stood at the center of the room while Anastasia relentlessly overwhelmed her with bullets and magic.
By then, Ronan had already figured out Anastasia’s full kit. It was enough for him to finally prepare a proper training regimen for her.
Although after two hours of sparring, the two women definitely weren’t thinking as practically as he was.
"H-How..."
Anastasia was on her knees, panting hard as she wiped the sweat from her face with the back of her hand, staring up at Sarael. At the woman who had just effortlessly blocked every single one of her attacks with tendrils of shadow.
"Well, isn’t that to be expected after experiencing my husband...?"
"Your husband!?"
Anastasia scoffed.
"After seeing you, I could barely give a damn about him..."
Ronan’s spine went rigid.
The moment he heard the insult, indirect as it was, his muscles tensed, ready to stop Sarael before she could ’punish’ her like what she had done to the interrogators and Zero.
But...
To his surprise, Sarael only kept smiling.
In fact, she looked almost delighted, as if Anastasia had just given her the best news in the world.
"Well, that’s good to hear~!"
Sarael said sweetly.
"Then just keep your attention on me, okay?"
Anastasia blinked, confusion flickering across her face.
"T-That’s... one weird way to put it."
FWOOSH!
The door behind them swung open.
"Not really."
John said as he stepped inside, carrying the faint scent of freshly cooked food with him. His eyes briefly shifted to Sarael before returning to his daughter.
"It’s common for couples to be jealous. Especially in the presence of my beautiful daughter."
Anastasia’s cheeks flushed.
"J-Jealous!? Father, what do you mean?"
John nodded toward her, silently confirming the implication that was already forming inside her head. She was a young adult; she was smart enough to know what her father meant.
Anastasia opened her mouth, closed it, then shook her head as if physically trying to clear the thought.
"I’m going to go shower..."
"Good timing; head to the dining room once you’re done."
John said, clapping his hands together.
"Dinner’s ready. Figured you two should stay and eat after putting my daughter through... whatever that was."
He gestured vaguely at the ice-coated walls and the frost still clinging to the ceiling.
Anastasia was already shuffling toward the exit, muttering under her breath about needing a change of clothes. But as Ronan moved to follow, John caught his eye.
"Can I have a word with your wife for a bit, GodBound?"
Ronan stopped mid-step.
"No."
The answer came so quickly that John actually blinked.
"Excuse me?"
"If you want a word with her, then I’ll be present."
Sarael nodded, looking far too pleased by his answer.
John stared at them for a long moment. Then, slowly, he raised his arms and formed a gesture Ronan never expected to see here, of all places.
Sarael’s prayer symbol.
The same one his grandmother had traced on his forehead before bed.
"I’m not a threat," John said quietly.
Sarael’s eyes widened. "Wait... are you the hunter she spoke about in her prayers?"
The question hit Ronan like a stone dropped into still water. His thoughts went blank.
’What...?’
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