Chapter 16: Training Resumed 1
Mass release [1/3]
As the next knock came, Melissa barged into the room without warning, just before Asher could reach the knob. This startled him a little, but he quickly regained his composure, maintaining an unshaken demeanor.
'I have to hide the facts.'
"Uh... I did not sense any spirit," he spoke with his usual feigned voice, but his mother paid no attention to his words.
Her eyes were sharp, scanning the room like a hawk, stopping at the least expected places.
Asher held his breath, realizing his error. This was the queen of the Exorcist Kingdom—if not the most powerful Exorcist alive. And he was trying to hide the energy of cultivation from her.
He was wrong.
Melissa simply walked past Asher and toward his bed. Without hesitation, she grabbed his pillow, raising it to reveal the emptied core beneath.
Taking the core into her palms, she turned to Asher, ensuring that he saw it in her hands.
It was a warning—one Asher understood too well.
'You think you can lie to me?'
His heart palpitated as his mind raced, considering the punishments he might receive. There was a wide variety of them—this was an Exorcist Kingdom, after all.
"Now that I see it..."
Hearing his mother speak so coldly was enough to send him straight to the ICU.
"You have a good aura. Your mana level is enough to match that of a real Exorcist."
With that, she was done speaking.
Asher bit his lip, inwardly pondering how she had sensed his aura despite his concealment. He had taught himself how to suppress his infinite mana, but thanks to his cultivation, he had failed to completely hide it.
'Damn. Next time, I'll take precautions... If there even is a next time.'
Melissa dropped the core to the ground, letting it clatter loudly upon impact. Then, without another word, she turned and walked toward the door, an awkward atmosphere lingering between them.
Just as she reached the door, she suddenly stopped. Turning slightly, she gave Asher a small smile.
"You will resume Exorcist training tomorrow."
With that, she left, shutting the door behind her.
A moment later, the sound of several guards leaving echoed throughout the vicinity.
Finally, she was gone, leaving Asher in complete disorder.
"What the hell was that? Am I dreaming? Did I mishear her? But... did she just say training?"
---
Morning arrived once again, the sun already at its peak.
And just as expected, snow had fallen from night till morning.
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The battlefield was covered in a thick layer of white, guards stationed at every point, and—most notably—children Asher's age were gathered for training.
He stood amidst them, watching and studying the faces present.
Many of them were children of Exorcists. Some he recognized—Kavin and Gilbert among them.
His sister, Nimora, was also there, swinging her newly gained double katanas through the air, each strike powered by her martial arts.
It was a majestic sight to behold. Many around her commonly stopped to stare in admiration.
Unlike her, however, when they looked at Asher, it was not admiration they held in their eyes.
It was disgust.
It was awe.
He knew what they were wondering.
'Wasn't he supposed to be dead?'
But Asher didn't care.
He wanted to train—really train—for the first time in a wide field.
So, without hesitation, he secluded himself from the others, heading toward the edge of the training ground.
The snow beneath his boots slowed his movements slightly.
'For training, this will be a problem,' he assumed.
But reaching his desired spot, he pulled his sword from its scabbard and began to swing.
He broke the martial arts movements he knew into separate sections.
He wanted to train his swings, sure, but showing how vast his knowledge of martial arts was? That was never his intention.
For now, he would break every move apart—piece by piece.
And when he was alone, he would put them all together.
The snow beneath his boots made it difficult to move, so he treated it as a form of resistance training—just like moving with weights.
After a few swings, he decided to increase his pace.
Just as he was about to do so, a voice called out from behind.
"That looks fun. Would you like to soar with me?"
Asher turned, his face plastered with concern as he sought out the source of the voice.
Before him stood a boy about his age—perhaps a little older. He wore a half-decent set of armor, a sword at his waist, and had short yellow hair. His demeanor was bright, almost unnervingly cheerful.
"Hi, sorry, let me introduce myself. I'm Fey Galmon, and I'd like to spar with you."
At first, Asher wanted to decline.
But then, considering how desperate he was to experience a real fight against an armed opponent, he gave a small nod of agreement.
"I'm Asher Vance..."
"Yeah, I know. Who wouldn't know the twin of Nimora?"
Hearing this, Asher felt a flicker of aggravation.
'He knows me only because of my sister's glory.'
Shaking his head, he muttered, "Okay then. Let's have the spar."
With that, Fey pulled out his blade, aiming it at Asher with a smile still plastered on his face.
His sword was strange in its own way. Jagged, with many chipped parts that seemed deliberately placed as part of its design.
Asher ignored this detail and took a basic stance.
'Will this guy take it easy on me since I'm a defect? Or will he go all out just to disgrace me?'
Fey let out a small chuckle before assuming a stance.
Asher immediately recognized it.
It was an advanced Exorcist technique—one specifically designed to behead opponents in a single strike.
Asher gulped.
'He's trying to murder me. Fuck.'
"Now, let's begin."