Within the open training ground, towering walls of reinforced concrete, strengthened with cement painstakingly crafted by the Alchemists' Guild, stood firm around the expansive arena.
Those colossal walls soared high like an impregnable fortress, separating the battleground from the world beyond.
It was a vast training court without a roof, deliberately constructed behind the Handler Mansion so Lucas could hone his skills without interruption.
Its distance from the main residence was not great.
This training hall was not where the guards of House Handler sharpened their abilities.
Nor was it the arena reserved for the Aurors sworn to the family's service.
It existed solely for the members of House Handler's direct bloodline.
No one beyond the Handler lineage was permitted to set foot within this training ground.
The only exception was House Wieser, whose blood ties with House Handler granted them the privilege of using the arena as well.
Lucas retreated several steps after the brief collision between his fist and Ian's.
The ground beneath his feet fractured ever so slightly beneath the force created by their opposing strength.
His figure flickered.
Shunshin no Jutsu.
In the blink of an eye, Lucas vanished from sight.
His speed resembled a streak of light slicing cleanly through the air.
Less than a heartbeat later, he appeared directly behind Ian.
Without granting even the smallest opening, his right leg spun in a swift diagonal arc, crashing toward Ian's head with enough force to bring down an opponent in a single strike.
Shhh!
The air shrieked beneath the kick.
A sharp burst of wind erupted from the sweeping motion, sending dust spiraling across the arena.
Yet...
Boom!
Another deafening impact echoed throughout the spacious training ground.
Chakra surged through Ian's right arm and both of his legs.
He raised his forearm at precisely the right moment.
Lucas's kick stopped there.
Ian's body did not shift so much as a single step.
The vibration from the collision traveled through his bones and spread across his entire body, leaving behind only the faintest trace of numbness.
A subtle smile appeared at the corner of his lips.
Without wasting a single moment, he twisted his body and launched an immediate counterattack.
This time, a kunai had already appeared in his hand.
Lucas, however, had anticipated it.
His hand swept toward his waist, drawing the short blade that was always tucked at his side.
A defensive dagger.
One reserved specifically for his sparring sessions with Ian.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The sharp chorus of colliding steel filled the training hall.
Kunai and dagger flashed relentlessly as they crashed together again and again.
Brilliant sparks scattered into the air whenever the two blades met with overwhelming force.
Not a single movement was wasted.
Every slash.
Every thrust.
Every cut.
Carried the absolute intent to disable the opponent before being brought down themselves.
To an ordinary observer, their movements were nearly impossible to follow.
With chakra reinforcing every muscle, every bone, every tendon throughout their bodies, coupled with the high-speed movement techniques they had refined over countless years, their duel resembled the heroic legends of ancient knights brought vividly to life.
Dust continued to rise around them.
Each step struck the earth with enough force to send tremors across the arena before both figures disappeared once more, only to collide again at another point in the battlefield.
Lucas vanished yet again.
Nothing remained where he had stood except a lingering gust of wind.
Yet Ian's battle instincts moved even faster than his eyes.
Without turning around, the kunai in his left hand swept toward his flank.
KLANG!
The tip of the kunai met Lucas's dagger with flawless precision.
The violent collision showered the air with sparks, briefly illuminating both of their faces.
Then, within the next fraction of a heartbeat, Ian's hand moved with a speed that defied belief.
He released the kunai from his grasp.
Not because he had lost control.
But because he had intended to do so from the very beginning.
His hand flowed like a serpent slipping through water, gliding effortlessly through the smallest gap in Lucas's defense before clamping firmly around the wrist holding the dagger.
"Agh!"
Lucas grimaced.
His wrist was twisted with enough force to make every joint cry out in protest.
The dagger slipped from his grasp and spun helplessly toward the ground.
"Brace yourself, Lucas."
"Hah?"
Lucas's brows drew together.
The pain in his wrist had not even begun to fade when a powerful sense of danger surged through his mind.
He had no idea what Ian intended to do next.
Time granted him no opportunity to react.
Ian's grip tightened like iron shackles.
Drawing upon the rotation of his waist and the strength of his entire body, Ian swung Lucas effortlessly into the air.
The young man's body lifted from the ground as though it weighed nothing at all.
Then...
With one explosive motion fueled by every ounce of his strength, Ian hurled him straight ahead.
Lucas shot across the arena in a perfectly horizontal arc, hurtling through the air like a projectile launched from the arm of a colossal siege catapult.
Ian could have thrown Lucas high into the air in a graceful arc.
But that was never his intention.
Lucas needed to be tempered until his battle instincts, combat experience, and mastery of Ninjutsu became as natural as breathing, engraved so deeply into his body that they would act without conscious thought.
In this world, danger never granted anyone the luxury of preparation.
Rogue Aurors.
Dark magicians.
Demon.
And the restless ghosts that ceaselessly terrorized mankind.
None of them would patiently wait for their prey to stand at the peak of their condition.
Death could descend from any direction.
At any moment.
In such circumstances, only reflexes, instinct, and experience carved into one's very being could preserve a life.
That was precisely why Ian had chosen this method.
A form of training that forced the body to react long before the mind could even begin to think.
Without wasting another heartbeat, both of Ian's hands moved.
His fingers wove through one hand seal after another with a speed refined through countless years of relentless practice.
One of his signature Ninjutsu slowly came to life.
Meanwhile...
Lucas's body was still soaring through the air from Ian's throw, suspended as though gravity itself had momentarily forgotten him.
Although his balance had been completely disrupted, he had no intention of allowing the opportunity to slip away.
His eyes never left Ian.
He understood better than anyone that his cousin possessed strength far beyond what ordinary people could ever imagine.
In truth...
Ian's power surpassed his own several times over.
No.
Lucas did not even know where Ian's true limits lay.
It was rather amusing when he stopped to think about it.
Despite being the elder of the two, he had become the disciple of his younger cousin.
Yet that realization wounded none of his pride.
If anything...
It filled him with quiet pride instead.
Pride that someone sharing his mother's bloodline possessed such mysterious strength, a power that defied ordinary reason.
Besides...
He had begun learning directly from Ian five years ago.
Receiving instruction from Ian was far more reassuring than enduring training beneath his female cousin.
Charlotte.
The fiery yet heroic young lady who knew not the slightest trace of mercy once training began.
Lucas's own hands sprang into motion.
His fingers rapidly formed one seal after another, striving to match Ian's astonishing speed.
But...
Ian completed his technique first.
His chest expanded slowly as he drew in an impossibly deep breath.
Then...
"Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu."
Chakra flooded his lungs.
An instant later...
A colossal torrent of flames erupted from Ian's mouth.
Within the blink of an eye, the inferno condensed into a gigantic sphere of fire, roaring forward with savage fury while radiating a scorching heat that seemed capable of incinerating the very air itself.
The massive fireball raced directly toward Lucas, whose body had only just begun to lose the momentum of Ian's throw as he descended toward the ground.
Lucas clenched his teeth.
His landing was far from stable.
The Ninjutsu he had originally intended to unleash had to be abandoned.
Instead, he focused every fragment of his concentration upon regaining solid footing.
The instant both feet planted firmly against the ground, his hands began moving once more.
Seal after seal formed without the slightest hesitation.
His speed had increased dramatically compared to only moments before.
Before Ian's enormous fireball could reach him...
The final seal was completed.
"Suiton: Suijinheki no Jutsu."
Chakra surged violently toward his chest.
Just before the two Ninjutsu collided, Lucas expelled a tremendous stream of water from his mouth toward the earth.
The torrent did not cease.
Guided by his precise control over chakra, the rushing water spiraled around his body before rising skyward to form an immense defensive wall.
The overwhelming pressure of the current kept the barrier constantly rotating, transforming it into a fortress of living water that shielded Lucas from every direction.
On the opposite side...
Ian's blazing sphere continued its relentless advance.
Its immense size resembled a miniature sun descending upon the earth.
The heat pouring from it baked the ground until it hardened and split apart beneath unbearable temperatures.
Every blade of grass along its path was instantly reduced to ash.
Even the earth itself cracked open, leaving behind a long scar across the training ground as though the land had been seared by the wrath of the heavens.
Then...
The collision came.
BOOOOM!!
Fire and water crashed together.
The explosion was not as devastating as the collision between two fire-element Ninjutsu.
Even so...
The force unleashed remained terrifying.
A violent shockwave swept across the entire training arena.
Scorching heat and freezing moisture intertwined into a single overwhelming pressure that shook the surrounding air.
Moments later...
Dense white steam flooded the battlefield.
It continued to thicken without end before spreading throughout the enormous arena, carried in every direction by the wind until it eventually reached Ian, who remained standing a considerable distance from the point of impact.
"I see... An excellent response. He has grown considerably more skilled. In only five years since learning chakra and Ninjutsu, his abilities have already reached the level of a Chunin."
"Excellent."
"He truly did not waste the training notes I entrusted to him."
Ian remained perfectly still.
He made no attempt to awaken the Sharingan.
Although his vision had disappeared behind the endless sea of white steam engulfing the arena, it was not something that concerned him in the slightest.
A true shinobi never relied upon sight alone.
Ian's figure flickered.
In the span of a single blink, he vanished from where he had been standing, as though the figure that had occupied that spot moments earlier had been nothing more than an afterimage fading into the wind.
His speed was nothing short of terrifying.
Even Lucas, who had become highly proficient in the Shunshin no Jutsu, remained hopelessly behind.
For the past ten years, Ian had refined that technique without pause beneath his father's guidance.
On top of that came the merciless training sessions he had endured alongside Charlotte.
Battle after battle against that spirited young woman had forced him to shatter his own limits time and time again.
Even so...
The speed he had just displayed was far from his true limit.
Ian had deliberately restrained himself to match the pace of Lucas's training.
His purpose was never to overwhelm.
Rather, he intended to force his cousin into facing attacks that exceeded the limits of his senses, until Lucas's body learned to respond through instinct instead of thought alone.
That was enough.
Any greater speed would rob the training of its purpose.
Lucas would gain nothing except another inevitable defeat.
Dense white steam still blanketed the arena.
Lucas's vision narrowed drastically.
He could scarcely see more than a few paces ahead.
Then...
Ian suddenly appeared directly before him.
So close.
It was as though he had emerged from the mist itself like a wandering specter patiently waiting for its prey to lower its guard.
"Hah? What?"
The sudden appearance sent a violent chill racing down Lucas's spine.
Every hair on his body stood on end.
Almost instinctively, he stumbled backward.
Ian merely regarded him with calm, unwavering eyes.
"Careless. Panicking like that will never help you survive a real battle."
Thud!
"Argh!"
Ian's fist slammed into Lucas's abdomen.
His body folded instantly as the impact forced every breath from his lungs.
Ian gave him no opportunity to recover.
"Remember. Your enemy will never wait for the pain to pass. They will strike the weakest point and exploit every opening in your defense without the slightest hesitation."
"Like this."
Thud!
"Ugh!"
Ian's knuckles drove upward beneath Lucas's chin.
The uppercut rose in a clean vertical arc, delivered with carefully controlled force, yet powerful enough to launch Lucas several meters into the air.
His head snapped backward.
His body drifted upward, completely helpless.
Ian briefly raised his gaze, calmly following the ascent of his cousin's body.
Then...
His figure flickered once more.
An instant later, Ian was already positioned directly above Lucas.
The distance between them was no greater than the span of a few outstretched arms.
It was as though he had been waiting in the heavens long before Lucas reached the peak of his ascent.
"Remember. In a situation like this, the first thing you must do is establish your defense."
"..."
"It does not have to be perfect. It only needs to become your trump card before you launch your counterattack."
Lucas gritted his teeth.
"Damn it... I can't even react."
To him, every one of Ian's movements was impossibly fast.
Each attack arrived before his mind could even command his body to move.
The only thing he could manage was reinforcing his body with chakra to lessen the damage.
A counterattack?
In a situation like this...
Was such a thing even possible?
He could scarcely imagine raising his arms before another blow inevitably found him.
And...
His assumption proved correct.
Thud!
A kick struck squarely against the center of his chest.
The blow was not delivered with overwhelming force.
Yet it carried enough power to reverse the direction of Lucas's body, which had still been rising only moments before.
Now gravity reclaimed him.
Just before he began falling, Lucas caught one final glimpse of Ian disappearing once again.
Only a faint afterimage remained, as though his cousin had dissolved into the very air itself after bidding him farewell with that single kick.
"UGHHH!"
Crash!
Lucas's body slammed violently into the arena floor.
The tremendous impact echoed throughout the training grounds.
Pain immediately spread through every part of his body.
His chakra had strengthened his physique enough to keep his bones intact.
Even so...
Pain remained pain.
The ground beneath him fractured into a shallow crater several inches deep.
Dust erupted in every direction.
The lingering steam left behind by the earlier clash of Ninjutsu was blasted away once more by the powerful shockwave created when Lucas struck the earth.
A few moments later...
Ian landed quietly beside him.
His breathing remained perfectly steady.
As though the relentless barrage of high-speed attacks had been nothing more than a light warm-up.
He looked down at Lucas for a brief moment.
Then extended a hand toward him, offering to help his cousin rise to his feet once more.
Lucas accepted Ian's hand and pulled himself back to his feet.
Once he was standing again, he slowly rolled his shoulders and twisted his waist, easing the soreness that still lingered throughout his muscles after enduring the relentless barrage of blows.
His face soon tightened into a faint grimace.
"You hit surprisingly hard. For a moment, I thought Charlotte had possessed you, Ian."
Ian simply regarded him with his usual calm expression.
"It is for your own good. Besides, before long we will rarely have the chance to see each other. Until that day arrives, the only thing I can do is leave behind as many lessons as I possibly can."
A faint smile spread across Lucas's face.
The pain coursing through his body was simply ignored.
Ian was right.
After today, they would no longer have the opportunity to train together as often as they once had.
And it was not only Lucas whose circumstances were about to change.
Ian would no longer possess the freedom he had enjoyed until now.
In the past, although the Village of Green Pines and the City of Brandenburg were separated by several days of travel, Ian still found the time to journey there alone so he could guide him.
Now, everything was different.
Before long, Ian would depart for the Imperial Capital.
The Imperial Academy awaited him there.
Lucas fell silent.
For a brief moment, his thoughts wandered elsewhere.
He should have been entering that very academy as well.
Yet he quickly cast the thought aside.
Time had never chosen to favor him.
Soon, he would officially step into the world of commerce and begin assisting his mother.
As the heir to House Handler, immense responsibilities already awaited his shoulders.
They were burdens he could never avoid.
Because of that...
There was no longer any room for him to dream about the academy life that awaited his two cousins.
To him, the little time remaining was far more valuable if devoted to strengthening himself.
The stronger he became, the greater his ability would be to protect the family that would one day rest beneath his care.
Lucas slowly lifted his gaze toward the heavens.
The sun still hung high in the sky.
Its warmth bathed the training ground, though it had yet to reach the height of noon.
Which meant...
There was still plenty of time.
Even after the midday meal, they would still be able to continue their training.
He had no intention of wasting even a single moment of this final day.
"Very well, Ian. You're right."
The look in Lucas's eyes changed.
Every trace of hesitation vanished.
Only unwavering determination remained, harder than before.
He resumed his stance.
Ready to receive the next blow.
Ready to fall once again.
And ready to rise yet again.
"Come on, let's continue. Just like before. Keep going until I truly can't stand anymore."
A quiet chuckle escaped Ian.
Such an expression rarely appeared upon his face.
Yet seeing the resolve burning within Lucas, even he could not conceal his admiration.
Their talents were undeniably different.
The gap between them was as vast as heaven and earth.
Even so...
Ian had never looked down upon those who worked tirelessly.
Quite the opposite.
He had always respected those who possessed the determination to keep moving forward, even while knowing they had not been born with extraordinary talent.
To him, talent without resolve was nothing more than potential left to slowly rot away.
While unwavering effort possessed the power to carry someone beyond limits once believed impossible.
"As you wish, Young Master Handler."
Lucas immediately wore the face of a man resigned to his fate.
"Those are terrifying words."
Ian's features returned to their familiar stillness.
Calm.
Composed.
So perfectly expressionless that the quiet chuckle from only moments before seemed as though it had never existed.
"Prepare yourself."
"Wait..."
Thud!
Before Lucas could finish speaking, Ian's kick had already crashed squarely into his stomach.
The impact sent Lucas skidding several meters backward.
His feet scraped violently across the ground, carving two long furrows through the earth before he finally managed to halt his momentum.
The strength behind the kick had been measured with remarkable precision.
It was not powerful enough to knock Lucas to the ground.
Yet it was more than sufficient to force his body to become familiar with pain once again.
That had been Ian's intention from the very beginning.
It was not only the senses that required tempering.
The body itself had to grow accustomed to violent impacts and lingering pain, so that it could continue moving even after reaching the limits of its endurance.
For upon a true battlefield, no enemy would ever grant time to catch one's breath or recover from pain.
They would continue attacking until their opponent could no longer rise.
And...
With that unspoken understanding between them, the second round of their training officially began.