I had just stepped into the training ground, I was surprised I even knew my way there .
I hadn't even taken a minute to assess my surroundings when I was welcod with a fist right into my gut and of course the fist was wrapped in aura.
The hit sent skidding across the marble floor. My ribs scread; my vision shook. I barely managed to stay on my knees.
"Late," he said flat, cold, like a statent of fact.
Another blow ca before I could answer. I folded in half, choking, blood on my tongue. The floor tilted, and I realized the pain was making dizzy.
"You can't afford weakness," his voice cut through the ringing. "You will not sha this house at the Academy Trials. I don't know why you have proven to be the most pathetic mber of this house ".
Sha.
Right. That's what they called it when their weapon didn't sharpen fast enough.
[Architect Analysis Initiated
Skill activatied : Ti genius.]
Target: Aureon Valencrest
Estimated Deconstruction: 6 minutes, 12 seconds.
What the...??? A whole six minutes, would I even be conscious? But my compression rate isn't that show !!! Fuck .
He vanished again — no, not vanished, moved faster than my eyes could track. Aura cracked like thunder as his palm hit my chest I felt sothing give.
[Progress: 42%...]
I staggered back, barely breathing. The Architect pulsed in my mind, cold and chanical, dissecting every motion, every flick of his aura.
[76%...]
Co on faster ...
He ca again. I dropped low, the instinct hitting half a heartbeat before the thought did. His strike tore through empty air.
[Deconstruction Complete.]
My body moved on reflex a half-step, a pivot and I dodged another hit cleanly.
He stopped. Just looked at . A silent, unreadable expression.
Then he turned his back. "That's enough for today. You shall be present in the training ground by dawn every day for the rest of the week. We must prepare for the academy throughly . You must not fail . "
" And no healing potions shall be offered to you the whole week . That is the cost of weakness ".
The doors opened, and he left without another word.
---
The room was quiet again. My breath wasn't.
I spat blood, wiped my mouth with a shaking hand. What the fuck was that . A whole week of torture!!! Is this what this body has been going through. I am cooked.
A D-rank body trying to learn from a monster. Smart plan.
Still… I was alive. Barely. But alive.
And I'd seen sothing. The rhythm of his movents, the way aura gathered in his stance. Patterns. Repetition.
Data.
Every strike, a lesson.
Every bruise, an equation.
Every drop of blood, an investnt.
He thought I wanted to pass the Academy Trials.
He had no idea.
I'm not doing this to prove I'm a Valencrest.
I'm doing this to make sure the people who killed last ti don't exist long enough to do it again. This is my motto and I would make sure I go through any length to get what I want.
The Architect pulsed once more.
[Prototype Skill Acquired: Reactive Step — Rank D]
A dull laugh escaped before I could stop it. It hurt to breathe. Hurt worse to grin.
Progress. Pain and progress.
---
Later that night.
The study lights burned dimly, shadows cast by floating candles crawling across the walls. Aureon Valencrest stood by the window, hands clasped behind his back, armor still faintly humming with residual aura.
Alfred tall, gray-haired, loyal waited silently by the door.
"He dodged," Aureon said finally. "My second strike."
Alfred blinked. "The young master?"
Aureon's lips curved — not quite a smile. "He's changed. Watch him closely. Don't interfere… just observe."
"Yes, my lord."
Aureon looked out into the night again, faint amusent flickering in his eyes.
"Interesting," he murmured. "Let's see what you beco, boy."
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