The severe pain surged through Leornars' body as he slowly pushed himself off the cold, hard ground. The brutal aftermath of the fight still throbbed deep within his bones and muscles. Stacian, ever calm and completely composed, stepped forward with graceful strides and effortlessly began healing him. A warm, brilliant light bathed his body, instantly sealing his open wounds and mending fractured tissue as though the physical damage had never happened in the first place.
She suddenly began to laugh—a soft, melodic sound that quickly turned into full-blown amusement.
Leornars raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of annoyance and confusion. "Huh? What is so funny?" he asked, his voice steady despite his lingering fatigue.
Stacian didn't stop laughing. Her amusement was genuine, almost teasingly mocking.
"I knew you were reckless, but I didn't anticipate you would intentionally let yourself lose to him," she said, shaking her head.
"So you noticed," he replied calmly, offering no resistance as she continued her precise healing spell.
"I needed to see how actual professionals fought—to directly analyze them, their reaction times, and their underlying abilities. I expected he'd be tough, but not *that* tough," he added, his tone turning analytical and thoughtful.
"Throwing a fight just so he would drop his guard—smart," she admitted, genuinely impressed despite herself. "Though extremely reckless."
Her eyes narrowed slightly, her expression shifting into one of pure authority. "You were far too reckless today. Because of that, I am going to personally train you. I have long since mastered the elemental arts, among many other advanced disciplines."
He gave a sharp nod without a moment's hesitation. The unspoken contract between master and subordinate required no further words.
Later that afternoon, Leornars arrived at the secluded royal training grounds. The vast field was silent and empty—Stacian had not yet arrived.
"A subordinate who shows up late... how ironic," he muttered, letting out a weary sigh at the contradiction.
*CRACK—!*
A sudden, unnatural chill in the ambient air triggered every instinct in his body. Without a second thought, he dove violently to the side—just in time. A massive, concentrated blast of roaring flames exploded precisely where he had been standing a millisecond prior, scorching the grass to ash.
His eyes narrowed into deadly slits. Without hesitation, he reached into his shadow, summoning Bellian, Ascian, and several dark undead soldiers to form a defensive wall while drawing his twin masterwork daggers in one fluid, seamless motion.
Then, the faintest whisper of a presence materialized directly behind him.
Before he could even turn his head, Stacian's slender fingers gently rested against his bare throat.
"Boom. You're dead," she whispered casually into his ear, releasing her grip and stepping back as though nothing had transpired.
He blinked, genuine surprise flickering across his face. *She is terrifyingly fast... I didn't see or hear her approach at all,* he thought silently.
"And that was a high-tier stealth technique called Shadow Movement," Stacian explained, stepping into the sunlight before him. "It is a specialized skill that allows you to move faster than the speed of sound, leaving your sound waves behind until you finally come to a halt."
She lightly leaped in front of him, now clearly visible. She was wearing a sleek, cyan-blue crop top and matching athletic shorts that allowed her dark wings and tail complete freedom of movement.
Leornars took one look at her gear, let out a slow sigh, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Alright... let's just get this over with."
Stacian watched his posture carefully, her inner thoughts racing. *I'm pretty sure he's going to adapt to every single thing I throw at him... let's see how fast.*
The intensive training regimen began with raw Fire Magic. Stacian instructed him thoroughly on the core principles—mana compression, thermal control, directional precision, and atmospheric range.
After only three basic attempts, Leornars had already executed a flawless, high-density fireball that shattered a target dummy.
Next came Lightning Magic. Another complex, high-voltage skill. Then sub-elemental variants and mana-shielding. All absorbed like a sponge, all mastered in rapid, terrifying succession.
Days blurred into nights.
Eventually, the nature of their training shifted away from magic and directly into raw, unrefined hand-to-hand combat and martial arts. Despite his brilliant tactical intellect, Leornars struggled against her sheer experience. Stacian won every single exchange.
Each grueling session ended precisely the same way: Leornars bruised, utterly exhausted, and flat on his back in defeat.
Until today.
Stacian stood a few paces away on the packed earth, her posture loose, her breathing completely steady. "Begin."
Leornars instantly exploded forward, staying low and driving a sharp strike toward her ribs. She fluidly weaved around the blow and slammed a precise elbow into his lower back, sending him skidding across the dirt. He grunted in pain, flipped mid-air to disperse the kinetic force, and landed roughly on one knee.
He forced himself back up, gritting his teeth as sweat dripped from his chin.
*Hmmmm... I've been constantly re-strategizing this entire time,* Leornars calculated frantically in his head. *Each minute, my mind constructs over 400 different combat variations—and she still effortlessly counter-predicts every single one. How?*
As if reading the exact thoughts running through his mind, Stacian paused and folded her arms.
"If you are wondering how I keep countering you, it is simply because I am fundamentally faster than you," she explained calmly. "At full output, I can move at roughly eight times the speed of sound. You can currently top out at around 300 miles per hour. It isn't bad for a human, but it is far too slow for true high-tier combat. Even though you surpass a normal person by eight times, the assassin you fought was moving at the speed of sound. You need to go fast—no, much faster."
With those final words, her form completely vanished from his sight.
*BOOM—!*
A deafening sonic boom shattered the air surrounding the training ground.
But this time, Leornars moved. It was a fraction of a millimeter, driven by pure, evolved reflex.
*SWISH!*
Her incoming fist merely grazed his jawline instead of shattering his skull.
Stacian froze mid-motion, her eyes wide with uncharacteristic shock. *He... he adjusted to my physical speed mid-strike? How is that possible?!*
Then, a slow, delighted smile spread across her face. *So he just forced his body to accelerate to Mach 6... His reaction speed is incredible, almost surpassing my own passive instincts. He is a monster when it comes to real-time adaptation. He adapted to a stealth technique I used once, learned complex magic in hours, and perfected advanced spells in two days...*
She tightened her physical stance, her eyes gleaming with genuine excitement.
"Let's keep going. I'm far from done," Leornars said coldly, wiping a drop of blood from his cheek.
They clashed in a furious, blinding display of high-speed swordplay.
Stacian went on total offense—delivering a relentless flurry of slashes, deceptive feints, mid-air acrobatic flips, and heavy pressure from every conceivable angle. Her footwork was flawless, her strikes razor-sharp.
Yet Leornars held his ground.
The first few blows of her barrage struck his shoulders and arms. Then fewer landed. Then... none at all.
He was actively evolving with every single strike, matching her erratic rhythm, predicting her movement sequences before her muscles even fully contracted. His twin daggers blocked, parried, and immediately counter-slashed.
She went for a high horizontal sweep—he ducked beneath the blade. She followed up with a palm strike to his chest—he sidestepped, spun cleanly on his heel, and sliced through a thin thread of her top.
*He's catching up,* Stacian thought, her heart pounding. *He's actively forcing my natural rhythm to break!*
Spotting a microscopic opening in his posture while he was momentarily airborne, she swung her practice blade upward with deadly precision.
But mid-flight, Leornars twisted his torso at an impossible angle, lifted his legs, and delivered a heavy, mana-infused kick straight into her upper back.
*BANG!*
Stacian tumbled across the ground, skidding several feet on her boots before stabilizing herself. Her arms shook slightly from the sheer kinetic impact.
*He is exceptionally talented... A true, absolute prodigy,* she realized, staring at him in awe. *No... he is far beyond a simple prodigy. He adapted to my high-speed sword style mid-attack. He is profoundly, terrifyingly dangerous.*
Later, as they both sat on a stone bench catching their breath, Leornars turned to her. "The Black Acer assassin used a unique ability called a Chain Breaker... what exactly was that?"
"A Chain Breaker is an ultimate authority bestowed directly by the gods," she explained, dusting off her shorts. "It acts as a absolute trump card that breaks the natural laws of combat."
"Why don't I possess one?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.
"Because you haven't undergone the trial to unlock it yet," she replied softly.
"I recall making a contract with a deity..." Leornars mused aloud, tapping his temple. "Oh right... it was the God of Justice and Law."
"That god's primary temple isn't located within this kingdom's borders," Stacian noted. "You will need to travel to his holy sanctuary to undergo the qualification trial. Just keep in mind—very few individuals ever awaken a Chain Breaker. It is an exceptionally rare gift. The fact that a rogue assassin possessed one is deeply concerning," she added, a flicker of worry in her crimson eyes.
"I see. So, what is your Chain Breaker?" he asked bluntly.
"Me?" Stacian chuckled evasively, looking off to the side. "Mine isn't anything special, really."
"Tell me," he pressed, his cold gaze locking onto her, immediately spotting her subtle attempt to dodge the question.
She let out a soft sigh. "Understood... My Chain Breaker is currently only half-activated," she admitted, a hint of sorrow in her voice.
"I didn't ask about its current status. I asked what it actually does," Leornars said coldly.
"I can manipulate and alter the local reality of a specified area," she confessed quietly. "If I were to fully master and perfect it... I honestly don't know the full extent of what I could rewrite."
*Alter reality itself? That level of authority is absurdly broken,* Leornars thought to himself. *I suppose taking her as my subordinate was the single best decision I've made.*
Stacian turned away, taking a few slow steps toward the edge of the training field. Suddenly, her entire body went stiff. She froze dead in her tracks.
*Wait...*
The realization hit her mind like a falling mountain.
*I get it now! He intentionally used noisy Lightning Magic during his earlier fight so he could draw my attention to his location, fully aware that he was going to lose... He discouraged the assassin from pursuing further when I intervened and defeated them... He knew for a fact that I would suggest training him afterward... so he could naturally adapt, copy my moves, and extract every piece of combat knowledge he needed! He adapted to my Mach 8 speed and my martial skills in days... Just how long have I been dancing in the very palm of his hand?!*
Cold sweat broke out across her neck as her mind spiraled deeper into the past.
*No... it goes even further back... To the exact day we met! He saw my dark wings and my horns—that's why he allowed me to stay by his side! He knew I was the only entity who possessed his ultimate weakness: pure Holy Light magic! And since he wields raw Dark magic... he realized that I was the only true threat to his life!*
*I've been dancing on his strings from the very beginning. No wonder he never wanted me to leave his sight—he knew that in anyone else's hands, I was a weapon that could permanently kill him! He's... he is an absolute monster.*
Stacian slowly turned her head back to look at him, her eyes wide with shock and horrifying realization.
Leornars met her gaze, a subtle, knowing glint dancing in his crimson eyes.
*So, she finally figured it out,* Leornars thought to himself, a dark, hidden smile touching the corner of his lips. *She possesses god-like physical power, but I will always be the master of strategy.*
Stacian held her breath, a faint, complex smirk gradually replacing her shock.
*I have been a slave for over two thousand years... I have served dozens of masters—decorated generals, ruthless kings, and power-hungry nobles. I've spent millennia learning magic, military strategy, terrain control, and psychological manipulation... but him? He is worse than all of them combined.*
*I was never just a subordinate... I was an irreplaceable, calculated pawn.*
Her smile widened slightly into an expression of genuine fascination. *He is extremely, utterly interesting.*