Winston closed the distance and the man turned to face him.
The man was composed and patient, clearly soone who had been standing here for a long ti without minding the wait.
Winston had already run the Soul Trait check on the man way down the corridor and there was no hostility, concealed intent or anything that flagged him as a threat.
Just a person doing a job they’d been given specific instructions for.
’The more I use this trait, the more grateful I am for it.’
The man gave a slight bow. "Mr. Winston. I’ve been sent to escort you to the Valerian estate for your training ahead of the Crucible."
"Give a few minutes to get ready."
"Of course. Take your ti."
Winston unlocked his door and stepped inside. The politeness was noticeable — this man was strong, clearly experienced, and had no particular reason to be this deferential to a fresh initiate on paper.
Which ant Richard had given specific instructions. The Valerian patriarch wanted Winston comfortable and well-treated before the Crucible offer was formally extended.
The training arrangent was a recruitnt move dressed up as hospitality, and Richard was executing it carefully.
Winston found that faintly amusing. He changed quickly, grabbed his bag, and stepped back out.
The man looked at him.
Then looked at him again more carefully.
Winston was wearing a red and black graphic shirt, dark jean shorts, and had a simple black backpack over one shoulder. The man’s expression stayed professional but sothing behind his eyes was working very hard.
"It’s fine," Winston said. "I’ll change when we get there."
"Of course, Mr. Winston. You have a..." The man paused, choosing the word with visible care. "...unique fashion sense."
Winston started walking toward the elevator.
’Wait — is this outfit not good?’
❖❖❖❖
The ride to the Valerian Estate was smooth and completely silent.
Winston stepped out the mont the car stopped, adjusted his backpack, and took in the building ahead.
The architecture was clean and it had a deliberate design — the kind of structure that communicated wealth without needing to announce it.
The escort pointed him toward the correct entrance, gave a brief nod, and drove away as Winston walked in.
The wave of energy hit him before he fully cleared the doorway.
He adjusted his focus and found them imdiately. Zelda and Freya were both already engaged with a middle-aged woman standing in the center of the training space — one hand behind her back, posture relaxed in a way that was anything but casual.
It was the relaxed stance of soone who had fought enough that loose was their default.
’I arrived late.’
Zelda reached her first. Sending a direct blow aid at the woman’s face. The impact behind it shook the air in the room.
But the woman’s palm ca up and stopped it clean, fingers closing around Zelda’s fist in the sa motion.
"You rely entirely on your Realization." Her voice was even, unhurried. "Your body matters too."
She dragged Zelda forward by the captured fist and drove a punch into her gut.
Zelda’s face went pale and she folded slightly — then the woman was already moving, swinging Zelda out of the way as Freya materialized behind her, katana coming down with a purple energy coating along the blade.
The woman didn’t look back. Her free hand ca up in a chopping motion and t the blade edge-on.
The energy transfer happened instantly — she absorbed it through the contact point and redirected it through her body to her other hand, delivering a single downward strike to the top of Freya’s head that drove her straight into the floor.
BOOM!
As for Zelda she was in Winston’s arms. He’d stepped in earlier to catch her mid-air. However his eyes stayed on the woman the entire ti.
’So this is Freya’s elder sister.’
She was strong. Genuinely, asurably strong and it was the kind that ca from years of building on an already exceptional foundation.
Zelda blinked, registered who was holding her, and her expression shifted imdiately.
"Winnie—"
"I’ve told you I don’t like that na." Winston loosened his grip and let her find her footing.
She stepped out of his arms and stood upright — then her legs wobbled slightly as Winston offered his forearm without comnting on it.
"I’m fine. Don’t worry." She straightened properly after a second. "I knew Paragons were strong, but this is sothing else. It’s like hitting a mountain that hits back."
Winston said nothing.
His attention had already moved back to the ongoing fight.
Freya was still standing, which was impressive on its own. She had experience with her sister, that much was visible in how she was reading the exchanges, how she positioned herself between attacks instead of just reacting.
She was on the receiving end of almost everything, but she was lasting. Most people wouldn’t have.
’Her sister is holding back. And Freya’s still keeping up this long against a Paragon.’
Rank Five.
That was what a Paragon was — the classification above Exalted, above Champion, the tier where raw power stopped being asured in building-scale and started being asured in sothing else entirely.
The gap between Rank Four and Rank Five wasn’t just the next step. It was a different category of existence.
Exalted class holders could level buildings and tank catastrophic damage. Paragons operated beyond that in ways that didn’t have clean comparisons.
Freya’s sister was one of those.
Freya ca flying across the room as Winston stepped forward and caught her with both arms, the impact still carrying enough force that he had to plant his foot to stop himself.
Freya’s face was bruised across one cheek, her fox ears already dissolving as the transformation faded and her stamina dropped below the threshold to maintain it.
Winston set her down carefully and looked up.
Freya’s sister was already looking at him. The cold smirk on her face was a precise expression and it was the kind that ca from soone who had been evaluating him since he walked through the door and had reached a conclusion she found interesting.
"So you’re the one Father speaks so highly of." She tilted her head slightly. "Let see what you’re actually made of."
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