Chapter 52: 052. A Spar To Remember
By mid-afternoon, the group had returned to the manor, their arms loaded with bags, new clothes and upgraded gear.
The atmosphere in the massive lounge was incredibly peaceful.
Astrid was sitting in a high-backed velvet armchair, happily reading her new romance novel, occasionally hiding her flushed face behind the golden cover.
Across the room, Lyra was carefully oiling the blade of her new masterwork sword, treating the weapon with absolute reverence, while Kala slept softly on the rug hugging her stuffed bear.
Eternia was pacing silently around the perimeter of the room, thoroughly enjoying the complete lack of noise her new boots produced.
’I don’t even have to put effort into being silent.’ Eternia thought while looking at Astrid. She wondered if she could attack the Mage much faster now...
And Ren was positioned directly in the center of the room, lounging horizontally across the massive plush velvet sofa.
He had his legs stretched out, his hands resting behind his head.
Lying directly on his chest, completely asleep and purring loudly enough to vibrate the cushions, was Chesnu the fat cat.
’Lazy cat...’
Ren closed his eyes soaking in the absolute tranquility of his new life.
Just out of pure curiosity, Ren mentally pulled up his System interface.
He navigated away from his inventory and opened the [Protagonist Tracking Feature] he had purchased yesterday.
A translucent blue screen popped up in his mind, displaying Jace’s current status.
Ren read the metrics, and a satisfied smile spread across his face.
Jace’s mental stability was listed in the red... His mana reserves were usual and his overall morale was critically low.
"Sucks to be you, buddy," Ren muttered quietly, giving the sleeping cat on his chest a gentle scratch behind the ears.
Miles away from the peaceful sunlit upper ring of Astelvern Town, the atmosphere was entirely different.
Deep within the sprawling, heavily fortified training grounds of the main Hero’s Estate in the capital, the air was thick and suffocatingly cold.
The sky above was choked with heavy grey clouds, threatening a torrential downpour.
CLANG!
CLANG!
The harsh violent sound of heavy steel slamming against solid stone echoed relentlessly across the courtyard.
Jace, the prophesied Hero of the Kingdom, was standing shirtless in the center of the training yard.
He was wielding a massive two-handed greatsword, swinging it with wild ferocity against a towering granite pillar.
’I... I lost...’
He was completely drenched in cold sweat. His muscles bulged and strained with every agonizing swing, but his form was terrible.
It lacked the precision and grace he was famous for. It was just pure anger.
CLANG!
The heavy impact sent a violent shockwave up his arms, tearing the skin on his palms.
Blood seeped from his blisters, staining the leather grip of his sword, but Jace didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.
If he stopped moving, the thoughts would catch up to him.
"AHHH!!!"
Jace let out an agonizing scream, bringing the heavy blade down in a devastating overhead cleave that shattered the top of the granite pillar into jagged chunks.
He dropped to his knees with his chest heaving as he gasped for air.
The greatsword slipped from his bloody hands, clattering against the stone floor.
He stared blankly at the dark ground with his blue eyes entirely hollow.
The physical pain of the training was nothing compared to the psychological devastation gnawing at his soul.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the blinding flash of The Demon Lord’s slash and he felt the excruciating, humiliating agony of the strike that had ruptured his mana veins and completely destroyed his lower body’s internal structure.
The Former Saintess had saved his life... She had healed the surface wounds but she couldn’t fix the core damage.
He was permanently sterilized.
The grand, noble bloodline of the Hero, a lineage that had protected the Kingdom for centuries would end with him.
He could never have a family... He could never pass on his legacy...
He felt less than human and Jace also felt utterly broken.
A soft, mournful whine broke through the silence of the courtyard and Jace slowly turned his head.
Approaching him cautiously from the shadows of the armory was his tamed beast companion that usually was with his Mom... a large, heavily armored Iron-hide Hound named Buster.
The massive wolf-like creature, usually fierce and intimidating, had its ears pinned back flat against its skull. Its tail was tucked securely between its legs.
Buster could feel the overwhelming despair radiating from his master and the loyal beast whined again while stepping forward.
Clamped carefully in its powerful jaws was a silver plate carrying a large piece of freshly roasted meat, procured from the estate’s kitchen.
The Hound stepped up to Jace, gently nudging the young man’s trembling knee with its cold nose.
It set the plate of food down on the stone, letting out a soft bark, desperately trying to comfort him.
It wanted its master to eat and it wanted him to recover.
Jace looked at the plate of food. He looked at the loyal, caring eyes of his beast companion and then, a violent wave of self-loathing and disgust washed over him.
He didn’t deserve comfort... He didn’t deserve loyalty... He was a failure... A broken, castrated failure who couldn’t even protect his own pride, let alone a kingdom.
"Get away from me!" Jace roared, his voice cracking with raw anguish.
Jace wildly swung his arm with his bloody knuckles slamming into the silver plate.
The plate was violently batted away, sending the roasted meat flying across the courtyard to land in the dirt.
Buster flinched hard, letting out a terrified yelp as it scrambled backward with its paws slipping on the stone.
The Hound looked at the ruined food, then back at Jace as its eyes were filled with deep heartbreaking confusion and sadness before it tucked its tail and retreated back into the shadows of the armory, leaving him entirely alone.
Jace collapsed forward, pressing his bloody forehead against the cold stone floor of the courtyard.
He curled his fingers into fists with his body trembling violently as he finally broke down, his choked agonizing sobs echoing in the empty, desolate yard.
He was broken... and somewhere out there, the man who broke him was living perfectly fine.
...
The grand library of Astrid’s manor was a sanctuary of peace and quiet.
Towering oak bookshelves stretched from the polished hardwood floor all the way up to the painted vaulted ceiling.
Thousands of leather-bound books, scrolls, and glowing magical grimoires lined the shelves.
Large stained-glass windows allowed the mid-morning sun to filter through in brilliant, fractured beams of gold, ruby, and sapphire, casting colorful geometric patterns across the plush rugs.
It was a Tuesday.
By all standard metrics of the Adventurer’s Guild, Tuesday was prime administrative day.
As the Vice Guild Leader, Astrid was technically supposed to be sitting behind a heavy mahogany desk at the guild headquarters, buried beneath a mountain of property damage reports, raid logistics, and exasperating complaints from merchants about rowdy vanguards.
Instead, she was playing hooky...
Astrid was currently curled up on a massive incredibly soft velvet chaise lounge in the corner of her private library.
She had swapped her formal, intimidating combat robes for a comfortable, oversized knitted sweater and a pair of soft woolen leggings.
Her golden hair was tied up in a messy, careless bun and a cup of steaming chamomile tea rested on the small wooden table beside her.
She felt a brief stab of guilt for abandoning her post, but it was immediately squashed by the undeniable comfort of her current situation.
Sitting on the adjacent leather sofa, entirely relaxed and looking perfectly at home, was Ren.
He was wearing a simple dark shirt and trousers, his long legs stretched out and resting casually on a padded ottoman.
He held a thick detailed manual on advanced elemental theory in one hand, flipping through the pages with a look of mild interest.
The mana of the manor was passively working its magic through his newly acquired title, keeping his mind razor-sharp and completely free of fatigue.
Astrid peeked over the top of her own book—the thick, gold-foiled romance novel Ren had purchased for her yesterday during their shopping spree.
[The Duke’s Secret Desires: A Tale of Forbidden Twilight.]
She had been reading it for the past hour, and she was thoroughly engrossed in the scandalous highly dramatic plot.
However, every few minutes, her blue eyes would drift away from the page to admire the handsome relaxed profile of the man sitting across from her.
Having him in her home, sharing a quiet morning without the looming threat of dungeon bosses felt like a dream she hadn’t dared to wish for.
Ren turned a page in his elemental manual.
Without looking up, he spoke.
"You’ve been staring at the same page for ten minutes, Astrid... Is the Duke’s forbidden desire really that complicated, or are you just admiring the view?"
Astrid jumped slightly with a furious vibrant red flush immediately coloring her cheeks.
She quickly hid the lower half of her face behind the heavy hardcover of the romance novel. "I... I was just lost in thought! The plot is very intricate."
Ren closed his manual, setting it down on the table.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees with a smirk on his face.
"Intricate? I read the back cover yesterday. It’s about a high-ranking Duke who abandons his entire military campaign to run away with a peasant girl he met at a bakery. That doesn’t sound intricate... it sounds like a disaster."
Astrid lowered the book slightly with her competitive edge flaring up to defend her guilty pleasure.
"It is romantic, Ren! He’s casting aside the rigid suffocating expectations of the nobility for true love. He realizes that titles and land mean nothing compared to matters of the heart."
"He realizes that after one conversation over a loaf of bread?" Ren asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
"They shared a profound connection!" Astrid argued, though she couldn’t help but laugh at his deadpan critique.
Ren shook his head, leaning back against the leather sofa.
"Astrid, think about the logistics. He is a Duke. He manages a fiefdom. If he abandons his post, the local tax infrastructure collapses... The agricultural supply lines fail... The neighboring territories will see weakness and invade... He isn’t being romantic in my opinion, he’s condemning thousands of his citizens to poverty and war because he thought the baker’s daughter had nice eyes."
Astrid stared at him with her mouth slightly open.
She looked down at her book, then back up at him. "You... you are applying socioeconomic and geopolitical consequences to a trashy romance novel."
’Just like how trashy this novel is...’
"I’m just saying, a responsible Duke would have married her, elevated her status, and kept the borders secure..." Ren countered easily, crossing his arms. "You can have romance without destroying the local economy."
Astrid couldn’t hold it in anymore.
She burst into a fit of laughter.
Astrid tossed the book onto the cushion beside her, burying her face in her hands as her shoulders shook uncontrollably.
The logic he applied to everything... even fictional love stories was incredibly endearing.
"Just let me have this one Ren~" Astrid giggled, wiping a tear of amusement from her eye.
"Sure sure... you can have it." Ren corrected with a grin.
He reached over, picking up his cup of tea. "Though I suppose if the author wrote three Chapters explaining how the Duke reorganized his tax brackets before proposing, it wouldn’t sell as many copies."
"Exactly," Astrid smiled warmly, bringing her knees to her chest.
She looked at him.
"Thank you for the book, by the way. And for yesterday. I haven’t taken a day off to just... sit and breathe in years."
"You earned it," Ren said genuinely. "The Guild will survive one day without you terrifying the new recruits."
Outside the massive stained-glass windows, a sudden metallic Clang echoed from the direction of the private training grounds.
Ren and Astrid both turned their heads toward the window.
Down in the expansive, enclosed stone courtyard, Lyra was standing in the center of the yard.
The midday sun reflected brilliantly off the pristine, polished surface of her new masterwork steel sword.
She was currently running through the foundational forms Ren had drilled into her, but the difference was staggering.
The cheap splintering wooden practice sword she had used for some days was gone and her former one that she had used in the dungeon was broken...
In their place was a perfectly balanced deep-earth steel blade that cut through the air with a deadly satisfying hiss.
Lyra pivoted on her heel, driving her hips into a horizontal sweep. The edge of the blade hummed, leaving a nearly invisible distortion in the air behind it.
"That blade suits her," Astrid noted, watching the Sub-Heroine practice. "Deep-earth steel is highly receptive to raw mana... Hmm, you have a good eye for weaponry."
"She needed the upgrade," Ren replied while watching Lyra’s footwork. "If she channeled her aura through cheap iron, it would shatter in her hands."
Down in the yard, Lyra completed her sequence, letting out a heavy breath as she lowered the sword.
She held the hilt up, admiring the dark grey hue of the metal and the elegant drake-leather wrap around the crossguard.
"That’s a heavy weapon for someone of your stature."
Lyra gasped, violently spinning around and bringing her new sword up into a defensive guard.
Standing less than five feet behind her, entirely relaxed and with her arms crossed over her chest was Eternia.
The Snakekin had approached across the open stone courtyard without making a single sound.
The newly purchased Whisper-Step Treads were performing flawlessly.
The wind-mana runes inscribed into the dark Wyvern leather completely absorbed the impact of her footfalls, rendering her movements terrifyingly silent.
Eternia was wearing her dark combat trousers and a form-fitting black tunic having discarded the casual blouse from her date the night before.
"Goddess, Eternia!" Lyra exhaled sharply while lowering her blade.
She placed a hand over her racing heart. "You can’t just sneak up on people like that! Those new boots are a nightmare."
"A true warrior must always be aware of their surroundings, regardless of the noise," Eternia corrected smoothly, though a highly satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.
She was incredibly proud of her new gear. "Your stance was wide. If I were an enemy, you would already be bleeding."
Lyra rolled her shoulders, shaking off the lingering shock.
She looked at her new masterwork sword, then looked back at the deadly woman as a sudden spark of competitiveness flared up in her chest.
"If you were an enemy, I would have heard you draw your blades," Lyra challenged with a confident smile spreading across her face. "I want to test this steel properly... Spar with me. Let’s use real weapons this time."
Eternia raised an eyebrow with her golden slit-pupils narrowing slightly.
"Real steel is dangerous, Lyra... You should know about it since you’ve been an Adventurer longer than I have. If I strike your blade incorrectly, I will shatter your wrists."
"I shattered a reinforced dummy with a wooden stick yesterday," Lyra countered, gripping the leather hilt with both hands and falling into a solid combat stance. "I won’t break... Come on... Just a few exchanges."
Eternia stared at the determined human girl for a moment.
Yesterday, she might have refused, viewing it as a waste of energy but today, Eternia was in an exceptionally good mood.
Her Master had kept his promise. He had taken her out, fed her sweet things and kissed her forehead on a starlit bridge.
She felt generous.
"Very well," Eternia agreed. "Do you mind if I use daggers?"
"Uh... No."
In a terrifying, seamless blur of motion, Eternia’s hands dropped to her thighs.
The ringing sound of steel clearing leather echoed in the yard as she drew her twin wickedly curved daggers.
If she used a sword naturally she would beat her... but Daggers which Eternia was learning how to use by herself, it would be a match.
She dropped her center of gravity, falling into an offensive crouch.
Up on the balcony, Ren stood up from the sofa and walked over to the glass doors, pushing them open to get a better view.
Astrid followed, leaning against the doorframe.
"She challenged Eternia to an actual spar?" Astrid asked while amused.
Astrid had met them yesterday but she knew, Eternia was really really good with weapons.
"She has courage, I’ll give her that."
"Let’s see what she can do with it." Ren replied while crossing his arms.
Down in the yard, the silence stretched for three agonizing seconds then, Lyra moved.
She didn’t wait for the faster opponent to close the distance.
Lyra kicked off the stone, utilizing the foundational momentum Ren had taught her and told her to practice.
She lunged forward, closing the gap rapidly, and swung the masterwork longsword in a heavy sweeping diagonal cut aimed directly at Eternia’s shoulder.
Eternia didn’t even blink.
She effortlessly sidestepped the heavy blade, stepping inside Lyra’s guard.
She brought her left dagger up in a reverse grip, aiming a lightning-fast counter-slash toward Lyra’s ribs, intending to stop the blade a fraction of an inch from the girl’s skin to end the spar immediately but Lyra’s instincts screamed.
The moment she felt the dense pressure of Eternia closing in, that familiar violent heat ignited within her ribcage.
VWOOM!
A brilliant pulsing flash of blue-gold mana erupted from Lyra’s skin as the latent power of the Sub-Heroine bloodline surged down her arms and poured directly into the deep-earth steel of the longsword.
Fueled by the sudden, explosive burst of speed and power, Lyra violently twisted her torso.
She aborted her sweeping cut entirely, pulling the heavy sword back with terrifying velocity and bringing the flat of the glowing blade down to intercept Eternia’s strike.
CLANG!
The deafening crash of steel colliding sent a shockwave of displaced air rippling across the courtyard as sparks showered across the stone.
Eternia’s golden eyes widened in genuine surprise.
The kinetic force behind Lyra’s block was immense.
The blue-gold mana coating the longsword acted like a dense physical wall of pressure.
Eternia felt the jarring impact travel all the way up her forearm.
For the first time since they had begun training together, the strength of the human girl actually forced the beastkin assassin to take a step backward to maintain her balance.
However Lyra didn’t give her a second to recover.
"Haaah!" Lyra shouted, stepping directly into the space Eternia had just yielded.
She channeled the surging mana into her footwork, chaining her block into a rapid, relentless flurry of offensive strikes.
She swung the glowing steel in a sequence... an overhead cleave, followed by a tight horizontal slash, immediately flowing into a rapid two-handed thrust aimed at Eternia’s center mass.
