Leon noticed that five of the techniques appeared twice in the collection—duplicate scrolls of popular thods. He set these aside without tearing them, creating a small pile of redundant knowledge.
No point in experiencing the sa simulation twice, he reasoned; those could be learned by Seraphine if not, rewarded to those it suited them, as he was here to teach her all the skills she wanted.
But for him to teach her, he at least has to reach Adept rank in the techniques she likes to learn.
Leon knew he had a lot of training to do, and he was excited about it. The thing he was trying to achieve with his skill was still eluding him, but he was confident he would find a way, one way or another.
The evening had fully surrendered to night now. Stars filled the sky in brilliant profusion, their light reflecting off the dissipating motes of technique-knowledge that continued to swirl with each scroll Leon destroyed. The air carried a strange mixture of scents—aged paper, released mana, the lingering ozone sll of lightning techniques, the warmth of fire thods.
Seraphine had seated herself in front of him, watching with an expression that mixed wonder and calculation. Leon could practically see her mind working, cataloging which techniques he was learning, planning how she would integrate them into her own combat style once he transcribed them for her.
"Serpent Strike"—a flexible attack pattern that could change direction mid-execution. Common rank, but useful for surprising opponents.
"Granite Fortress"—an uncommon-ranked defensive technique that involved creating a temporary shell of earth mana around vulnerable points. The ntal simulation showed him taking heavy blows that would have been crippling, only to erge unscathed behind shields of stone.
"Wind Scythe"—a ranged cutting attack that compressed air into blade-like projectiles. Common rank, simple execution, deadly in the right circumstances.
The pile of torn parchnts—or rather, the space where they had been—continued to grow. Each scroll left nothing behind but mories and knowledge, their physical forms completely converted into experiential learning.
"Blazing Charge"—an uncommon-ranked movent technique that wreathed the user in flas while moving at high speed, turning approach into attack. The heat in the ntal simulation was almost tangible.
Leon lost count sowhere around the thirtieth technique. His hands simply moved, tearing and absorbing, tearing and absorbing. Each thirty-second simulation added another complete martial thod to his repertoire. Strikes, guards, movents, weapon techniques, unard forms—all of it flowing into his mind and body with perfect clarity.
This is almost too easy, Leon thought as another scroll disintegrated. For anyone else, learning even five techniques properly would take years. I’m acquiring dozens in a single evening.
Finally, his hand reached for the last scroll on the table—the ones he’d deliberately set aside remained untouched, marked as duplicates. This final technique was bound with a golden thread, suggesting sothing of great significance.
"Thousand Fold Fist"—an uncommon-ranked technique that involved striking the sa point multiple tis in rapid succession, each hit amplifying the damage of the previous one. The simulation was brutal, showing him exactly how to chain impacts for devastating effect.
When the final motes of golden light faded into his consciousness, Leon stood in silence, feeling the weight of knowledge settling into his being. Forty-two new techniques in total, each one practiced to apprentice-level mastery through ntal simulation. Combined with the forty-seven skills he’d absorbed earlier, he had expanded his combat capabilities exponentially in a single evening.
Most warriors spend lifetis accumulating this kind of knowledge, he reflected, looking at his hands in the starlight. I’ve done it in hours.
"Finished?" Seraphine asked, though she already knew the answer.
Leon nodded slowly. "Forty-two techniques. All at apprentice mastery. I’ll need actual practice to advance them further, but the foundations are solid."
She stood, brushing grass from her clothes. "And you’ll write new scrolls for ?"
"Once I’ve refined them through real application," Leon confird. "My versions will be better than the originals."
The night was fully upon them now, cool and quiet except for the distant sounds of nocturnal insects. The earthen table stood nearly empty, its purpose fulfilled. Leon felt simultaneously energized and contemplative—ready for action, yet aware that he now possessed tools whose full potential he had yet to explore.
But there was sothing else weighing on his mind, sothing he’d been pushing aside since his return. The words had been building inside him, waiting for the right mont, and now—surrounded by the quiet night and the lingering glow of absorbed knowledge—that mont had arrived.
"Seraphine," Leon said, his tone shifting to sothing more serious, more personal. "There’s sothing important I need to tell you. Sothing I didn’t have ti to explain earlier."
He watched her face carefully, expecting surprise or concern, but what he saw instead made him pause.
Seraphine’s expression didn’t change dramatically. Her purple eyes t his with a calm, knowing look, and a small, almost gentle smile touched her lips. She moved closer to him, the starlight painting silver highlights in her hair as she closed the distance between them.
"I’ve been waiting for you to say that," she said softly.
Leon’s eyebrows rose slightly. She knew?
He believed her to be quite obsessive; however, seeing how patient she was uptill now, even when having her doubts, he was pleasantly surprised.
"I noticed," Seraphine continued, reaching out to touch his arm. Her fingers were warm against his skin. "The changes in you after you returned from dealing with your... problem. You’re different now. Stronger, yes, but also—" she paused, searching for the right words, "—different, it was so obvious even the color of your eyes is slightly different now, besides that, you were the sa yet different at the sa ti."
What? The color of my eyes, Leon thought.
"I wanted to ask," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "So many tis, I wanted to ask what happened to you. But I could see you weren’t ready to talk about it. That there was a weight you were carrying that you needed to process first."
The cool night breeze rustled through the grass around them, carrying with it the scent of earth and growing things. Above, the stars wheeled in their eternal dance, indifferent witnesses to the conversation unfolding below.
"I want to know," Seraphine said, her fingers tightening slightly on his arm. Her eyes searched his face with an intensity that had nothing to do with combat or strategy. "Not because I need to know for tactical reasons, or because I’m curious about power. I want to know because... it makes feel closer to you. Understanding what you’ve been through, what shaped you into who you are now—that matters to ."
There was vulnerability in her words, a crack in the armor of the cold, calculating commander he’d first t. This was Seraphine the woman, not Seraphine the commander. Soone who wanted to understand the person she’d chosen to stand beside, not just the weapon of mass destruction or an anomaly represented.
His heart flooded with warmth, knowing how much she cares for him.
She deserves to know, he realized. He had neglected it because of how brutal his experience had been, so he didn’t want to make her feel worried since everything was over; however, he did feel like not telling her wouldn’t be right.
But he will downplay the challenges he faces a bit to make her at ease.
The night seed to hold its breath as Leon prepared to speak, to finally share the burden he’d been carrying alone for so long.
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