Harem Training System: Every Girl I Train Makes Me Stronger!

Chapter 31: 31. Five for Five, Blood on My Face, Best Rest Day of Either Life

The dungeon entrance sat at the base of a low, tree-covered hill, an unassuming stone archway leading down into darkness lit by veins of luminescent crystal embedded in the walls. Catherine led the way with the confidence of someone who had done this many times before, though William noticed her hand hovering near her own sword hilt the entire descent, old instincts refusing to fully quiet even after years behind a desk.

"Standard tier one dungeon," she explained as they walked. "Mostly low-level constructs and beast-type monsters."

The academy uses it for exactly this purpose, letting instructors and advanced students test new equipment or techniques without real risk.

"So basically a shooting range with monsters instead of targets."

"Crude, but accurate," Catherine said.

The first creatures they encountered were a pack of what Catherine called ash wolves, lean grey beasts with smoke curling faintly from their joints, more nuisance than threat according to her assessment.

William drew Aetherion in a single-wield configuration and waded into them with the kind of casual efficiency that made Catherine’s eyebrows climb steadily higher with each passing second.

The blade moved like an extension of his own arm, and William found himself smiling despite the exertion, muscle memory from decades of training clicking seamlessly into place with a weapon that seemed built specifically to reward exactly the kind of adaptable, improvisational combat style he’d spent his entire previous life perfecting.

Three wolves went down before the rest scattered, and William barely broke a sweat.

"Single wield checks out," he said, already channeling a pulse of mana the way Grock had shown him.

The blade split cleanly down its hidden seam, and suddenly he held two shorter swords instead of one, weight redistributing perfectly between both hands.

"Sweet~!"

The next group of enemies, stone golems, slow-moving but heavily armored, gave him the perfect opportunity to test the dual configuration properly. William darted between two golems, striking fast alternating blows that chipped away at their stone hide far more efficiently than a single heavier strike would have managed, using speed and precision where raw force would have simply bounced off.

"You’re making this look considerably easier than it should be," Catherine called from a safe distance, watching with an expression that had shifted somewhere from concerned to openly impressed.

"I’ve had a lot of practice," William said, not bothering to elaborate on exactly how much practice or in what context.

He then tested the double-edged wield against a cluster of quick, darting shadow imps, the extended blade and secondary edge allowing him to strike in a full circle around himself without needing to reposition, catching enemies that tried to flank him from behind with the same fluid motion that dealt with whatever came at him from the front.

Then greatsword mode against a lumbering cave troll, the weapon scaling up into something massive and devastating, each swing carrying enough force to stagger the creature back several full steps.

By the time he channeled enough mana to shift into arcane wield, testing the cannon configuration against a group of distant flying wraiths that had been harassing them from above, Catherine had stopped commenting entirely, simply watching with an expression William couldn’t quite name, something between awe and a kind of quiet, dawning realization.

The mana bolt tore through two wraiths in a single shot, and William lowered the weapon afterward, grinning despite himself. "Okay, this fucking thing is genuinely incredible!"

"I take back every ounce of skepticism I had about magic guns." William blew the smoke out from his gun.

"I think," Catherine said carefully, "we should consider ending the test here..."

"You’ve verified all five configurations, so... there’s no need to push further."

"Probably right," William admitted, already sheathing the blade, satisfaction settling comfortably in his chest. "This has honestly been the best rest day activity I could have—"

He never finished the sentence because the air around them shifted, a low pressure dropping over the clearing like an invisible weight, and somewhere deep in the dungeon a sound rose up that had no business belonging to anything meant for tier one testing grounds.

SWINGGGGGGGGGGGG~!

It was a roar, deep and resonant, the kind that vibrated in the chest before it even reached the ears.

"W-wait a minute..." Catherine went pale. "That’s... that’s not native to this dungeon."

"Hm? What is?

"Summoning circle," Catherine said, already scanning the treeline with sharp, focused eyes, sword drawn now without hesitation. "Someone’s pulled something in from outside, and it’s not supposed to be anywhere near this tier."

"William, this could be extremely dangerous; we need to fall back and—"

"Or," William said, already feeling a grin spread across his face that he made absolutely no effort to hide, "this is the perfect chance for a real test."

"William, this is not a joke; whatever’s coming could genuinely kill—"

The creature that burst through the treeline cut off whatever warning Catherine had been about to give. It stood easily three times William’s height, covered in overlapping chitin plates the color of dried blood, with four clawed arms ending in blades that looked less like natural anatomy and more like something a blacksmith would have forged for a nightmare.

Its head split down the middle when it roared again, revealing rows of teeth arranged in a spiral pattern that made absolutely no biological sense and every bit of instinctive sense in terms of pure horror.

"That," Catherine said, voice tight with genuine fear, "is a tier five abyssal reaver...!"

"Those do not belong anywhere near students, or instructors, or anyone without a full combat squadron backing them up!"

"William, we need to retreat right now! I mean it, this isn’t—"

William drew Aetherion, already shifting mana into the weapon, feeling the blade hum with anticipation that matched his own.

"Oh yeah? Well..." he said. "I’m not retreating from this!"

"William!"

"Relax," William said, rolling his shoulders, feeling decades of combat instinct settle into the familiar, comfortable rhythm of a real fight finally worth having. "I’ve got a five-mode magic sword and something to prove."

"This is basically Christmas."

The reaver charged.

William met the first blow in dual-wield configuration, both blades crossing to catch a descending claw strike that would have cleaved through stone without slowing down.

The impact rattled up through his arms hard enough to numb his fingers momentarily, and he registered, distantly, that this creature hit harder than anything he’d fought since waking up in this world.

He rolled with the impact instead of fighting it head on, letting the force carry him sideways out of the path of a second claw that would have taken his head off if he’d stood his ground.

Old instinct, decades old, the kind bought with real blood in a life that had already ended violently. Absorb what you can’t avoid, redirect what you can’t absorb, and never plant your feet against something stronger than you.

The reaver was fast for its size, faster than something built like a small mountain had any right to be, and William found himself giving ground steadily over the first several exchanges, testing its patterns, cataloging the subtle tells that preceded each attack.

A slight shift of weight before the claws came in low. A widening of its jaw before the head split for a bite.

A tensing across its back plating before it used its tail as a secondary weapon.

"William, please fall back; this isn’t worth—"

"I’ve got its rhythm," William called back, already shifting Aetherion into double-edge configuration, the extended blade granting him the reach he needed to strike back without closing the dangerous gap the creature’s arm span demanded. "Just watch."

He struck low first, targeting a joint in the chitin plating along its leg, and the extended blade found purchase where a shorter weapon would have simply glanced off.

The reaver screamed, a sound that shook loose bark from nearby trees, and William used the opening to circle its flank, striking again at the same weakened joint with the trailing edge of his weapon.

The creature staggered, favoring the leg now, and William felt something settle into place, the specific satisfaction of a fight finally tilting in his favor after a careful, patient reading of an opponent’s weaknesses.

He shifted to greatsword configuration next, the blade scaling up to something massive and brutal, and met the reaver’s next charge with a strike that connected squarely against its exposed shoulder joint, where the plating had cracked from his earlier assault.

The impact sent the creature stumbling backward, and William pressed the advantage immediately, raining down heavy, deliberate strikes against the same weakened points, refusing to let the creature reset or recover its footing.

Catherine watched from the treeline, sword still drawn but frozen in place, torn between the instinct to help and the growing, dawning realization that her assistance would probably do more harm than good against something moving this fast.

The reaver, wounded and increasingly desperate, unleashed a wide-sweeping attack with all four arms at once, a move clearly meant to end the fight through sheer overwhelming force if precision strikes had failed.

William shifted at the last possible instant, channeling mana rapidly into the arcane configuration, and the blade folded away into the long-barreled cannon just in time for him to duck under the sweep and fire point-blank into the exposed underside of the creature’s jaw.

The mana bolt tore through flesh and chitin alike, and the reaver’s head snapped back with a sound that was less roar now and more strangled, wet scream.

William didn’t let up, shifting immediately back to greatsword configuration and closing the distance while the creature was still reeling, driving the massive blade directly into the wound the cannon shot had already opened.

The reaver collapsed.

It hit the ground with an impact that shook the entire clearing, dust and displaced earth rising in a cloud around its massive body, and for several long seconds nothing moved except William’s own heaving breath and the settling debris.

Then, slowly, he straightened up, blade still buried to the hilt in the creature’s throat, blood, dark and viscous, sprayed liberally across his face and chest.

He pulled Aetherion free with a wet, final sound and turned to look at Catherine with an expression that was equal parts exhaustion and pure, unrestrained satisfaction.

"Five for five," he said. "Every mode checks out."