Leo was a skilled fighter, probably one of the best among his peers, able to go solo with gurus like Sigurd. Then again, that title was limited only to his peers, and there were those far better than him.
One of them being Taren, but Leo had been able to try and break Taren’s supremacy lately. In fact, he might have already broken a shard out of it. He now understood Taren’s fighting style to a certain degree. Taren was not one to change styles frequently, so it was almost easy for Leo and at the sa ti, it was hard.
Taren’s styles might not be many, but they were hard to break and follow. Taren didn’t have the full backing of Aura since he was a half-Banished, soone not possessing one to zero Seeds and only having the Aura Core.
Nonetheless, the Aura Core was enough for Taren to be able to level his martial skills and make them fluid, standing between the Banished and Aura Farrs. The Aura Core had also helped him in cultivating rudintary magic and mixing it with the little Aura from his core, and alongside the porcelain magical limbs gifted to him by Jean, he was able to create magical blasts.
If that could have helped him gain a rudintary supernatural ability, then it would excel in making his martial skills better with every passing mont.
Even with this privilege, Aura Farrs would be more superior, and thus people like Elara, Yariel, Fang Rui, and Jean would be stronger than Taren in terms of martial skills, most especially Fang Rui.
Not only was Leo now faced with battling Taren but also Yariel and Mirage. Yariel ca up with the idea to battle each other, and the last one standing would take the win.
"Damn Yariel. Damn her!"
Leo frowned. Mirage was an easy task. Taren would be a tough opponent but still one he would be able to compete with. As for Yariel, she was on a different level of power, which was why Leo was currently running amidst the tall trees and bushes.
The four had scattered into the forest separating the first city of Eldoria from the one in the north.
The forest was free from danger and moderately large, so they used it as a training ground.
Technically, Leo wasn’t running, instead he was looking for the easiest target among the four of them.
’Mirage, where are you? Tch..she’s also an Advent now.’
Leo hissed but felt relieved imdiately. It wasn’t as if the System imdiately gifted her with millions of martial skills just because she beca an Advent. So he was safe. If he ca across her first, then Yariel and Taren could spar with each other. Whoever won among the two of them would have to face him.
The forest floor was a ss of tangled roots and dry leaves that crunched under Leo’s boots. He moved with a crouched gait, keeping his center of gravity low, his wooden training sword gripped tight in his right hand. He kept his jaw shut, taking asured breaths through his nose to keep his heart rate from spiking. In a free-for-all like this, the first person to get tired was the first person to get eliminated.
He ducked behind the massive trunk of a gnarled oak tree, pressing his back against the rough bark. He closed his eyes for a second, straining his ears. The forest was supposedly safe, but the sounds of three other high-level teenagers hunting him made every rustle of wind feel like a threat.
He heard a faint crunch coming from a cluster of thick ferns about thirty feet to his left. Leo didn’t move a muscle. He stayed rged with the shadow of the tree, watching the greenery.
A flash of teal fabric caught the light, the color of the Atlantis servants, a hand--down tunic Mirage often wore during training.
’Found you.’
Leo didn’t rush in. Mirage was an Advent now, which ant her physical ceiling had been raised, and she also had the sa experience of training that Leo had clawed for.
She was moving cautiously, her own wooden blade held out in a defensive posture, her eyes darting between the trees. She was looking for an ambush, but she was looking at eye level.
Leo dropped to his stomach, sliding through the tall grass like a snake. He moved when the wind blew, using the noise of the swaying branches to mask his own movents. He circled around a patch of thorns, coming up behind her.
When he was ten feet away, he rose.
Mirage spun around, her eyes widening. Her reflexes were noticeably faster than they had been a month ago. Before Leo’s wooden blade could connect with her shoulder, she had already brought her own sword up, parrying the strike.
"I knew you’d co for first," she panted, her face flushed from the humidity. "I’m not weak."
"Not weak," Leo countered, stepping back and imdiately throwing a low kick toward her lead leg. "Just the most reasonable. I’m not suicidal enough to go looking for Yariel in a large forest."
Mirage hopped over the kick, her movent fluid and light. She lunged forward, using a rapid-fire series of stabs and slashes to keep Leo in defensive motion.
The wood groaned under the pressure. Leo felt the difference in her strength. Every ti their swords t, his arm vibrated with a force that shouldn’t have been possible for soone of her stature. This was the power of an Advent, even a simple swing carried the weight of a sledgehamr.
She was also feeling the sa weight too, of course.
"Are-are you feeling well now?" Mirage said, stepping into his guard and throwing a shoulder check that sent Leo stumbling back two steps.
’Now she stamrs?’
Leo hissed, his boots skidding in the dirt. He didn’t reply. He couldn’t afford to waste the oxygen. He regained his balance just as Mirage ca in for a finishing overhead strike.
Instead of blocking, Leo dropped his sword to one hand and reached out, grabbing a low-hanging branch above him. He swung his body weight to the side, letting her wooden blade whistle past his ear and slam into the ground. The impact sent a cloud of dirt and needles into the air.
While she was overextended, Leo swung back, using the montum of the branch to deliver a heavy, horizontal kick to her ribs. Mirage gasped as the blow connected, sending her tumbling into a thicket of bushes.
"One-zero," Leo muttered, wiping sweat from his forehead.
But he didn’t have ti to celebrate. Mirage scrambled out of the bushes, her expression no longer teary or somber. She looked annoyed. She adjusted her grip on the wooden hilt, her knuckles turning white.
"That was dirty," she said.
"Sorry but there is no such thing as dirty or clean fights."
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