Chapter 131. Preparation (1)
Early morning, in the vast underground training facility filled with crisp, cold air, Enoch stood at its center, clad in his usual black uniform.
A profound silence enveloped the surroundings.
With eyes closed, he lowered his stance, hand resting on the sword hilt, maintaining the pose for over thirty minutes.
“…”
Focusing his mind to its limit, he channeled mana into the blade. A blue-black glow shimmered, projecting along the sword.
The sensation of the blade in my hand and the thread of intense focus converged into a single point. Exhaling sharply, I unleashed the sword into the air with lightning speed.
[Explosive Sword]
[Lethal Strike]
A metallic hum reverberated, followed by a lightning-fast slash carving through the space.
The ballistic dummy resembling a human before me shattered with a deafening explosion, half its form blasted into the training room’s wall.
“…”
The distinct sensation of impact reached my fingertips.
The strike was undeniably perfected.
Yet, immediately after, I nearly staggered, frowning silently as I sheathed the sword and corrected my stance.
A new path of growth: linking sword forms.
It was no easy feat.
I was relentlessly training to achieve seamless execution of this linkage under any condition or stance, aiming for perfection.
A technique that reversed the grip to pierce defenses, accelerated by mana bursts for devastating damage—it was beyond imagination.
But it was equally far from being effortlessly mastered.
“This should be usable in combat.”
Muttering to myself, I realized I wasn’t satisfied.
The linkage’s power, destructiveness, and mana recoil control were nearly complete.
But…
A faint ache pulsed from my shoulder after the strike.
Though faster and less taxing than before, it proved I was still a step short.
I glanced at the sword in my hand.
Like floating a flame on water, the two couldn’t blend while retaining their forms.
This training was akin to a circus act, relying solely on instinct to achieve the impossible.
I’d nearly internalized it.
About ninety percent.
“Ha…”
A suppressed breath escaped.
Lowering the sword in both hands, I looked up. The training facility’s long white lights dazzled my vision.
Since the exemption mission ended, the lights in Enoch’s private underground training facility at Elsyde’s Fortress never went out. Someone was always there.
That someone was me.
Glancing aside with a tired expression, I saw countless shattered human-silhouette training dummies, supplied by Elsyde, strewn around.
I’d adapted to the explosive power and recoil of the sword forms inherited from the Last Sword Saint, only to face a new level of challenge.
‘Is it because they’re different forms?’
There was no shortcut. To cover my greatest weakness, this wasn’t enough.
As I inherited more sword techniques, I’d find countless ways to combine them.
This wasn’t just about one linkage—it was training to establish fundamentals for the future.
I had to reach a higher realm.
Yet, despite thinking it perfect, the notion of a greater realm gnawed at me, making me question my approach.
‘Feels like starting over.’
Reflecting, a familiar feeling brought a small smile.
Not long ago, in this training room, I’d reveled in the sensation of wielding a sword and my prodigious growth.
Now, I was earnestly grappling with advancing to a new realm.
It felt refreshing.
Exhausted, I pulled an ampoule from my pocket, popped the cap with my mouth, and downed it.
Gulp.
Vitality surged back. I clenched and opened my hand.
Three plastic vials littered the floor.
Over three days, I’d used one ampoule daily.
Without these fatigue recovery ampoules, I couldn’t have trained so intensely, skimping on sleep.
Thanking the generous Antenor for the gift, I sheathed my sword.
A click sounded as it slid into the scabbard.
A familiar presence approached.
Lien, seated at the room’s edge, walked over with a water bottle and towel, offering them.
“You’re at risk of dehydration. Drink.”
“…Thanks.”
Wiping sweat with the towel and sipping cold water, I felt revived.
Lien watched me with her usual emotionless gaze. The déjà vu wasn’t my imagination.
Seeing my reflection in the water bottle, I tilted my head.
‘They said I need to understand myself…’
When I first became Enoch Elsyde and held his sword here, fragments of his memories had flashed through my mind.
But that was it.
Since then, I’d only inherited the Sword Saints’ memories and experiences, with no trace of the original Enoch’s.
What should I do? As I sank into thought—
BOOM!!
A tremendous crash echoed as the training room’s door was flung open. I turned slowly.
I already knew who it was.
“Hmm, this the place?”
As expected.
A beast-kin girl strode in triumphantly, having mercilessly kicked the door.
Scanning the room, her eyes widened with a gasp as she shouted.
“Found you at last!!”
Sirocco, tail swishing vibrantly, spotted me and approached with an excited expression.
I asked dryly.
“How’d you get here?”
“Duh, obvious question. You vanish every morning. Haven’t even come back to the room lately.”
“No, I meant how you found this place.”
Incredulously, I hadn’t told her about this training room.
I’d kept it secret to focus on training or Inner World visits without interruptions, especially in the underground.
“Must’ve been hard to find.”
“Totally!”
Sirocco planted her hands on her hips.
“Tracked you by scent.”
“Scent?”
“Yup! My nose is sharp. But this place is huge, and too many smells confused me.”
She glanced around, tilting her head.
“But, wow, this place is a mess. What were you two doing?”
“Training. Testing some things.”
As I handed the water bottle back to Lien, Sirocco smirked, her tone playful yet competitive.
“Hmph, so, hey.”
“…?”
“Wanna spar with me?”
Her sudden challenge made me tilt my head.
But I didn’t feel like refusing.
Perfect timing. I was tired of solo training.
Plus, I needed to check Sirocco’s progress.
***
To rest, I planned to clear the scattered dummies, but Lien’s cold stare stopped me.
“I’ll clean. Stay put.”
“…Alright.”
No reason to argue, so I stood blankly. Lien, as if waiting, calmly fetched cleaning tools and tidied the area.
“Hm, that maid, right?”
Sirocco, told to wait quietly, stood beside me, looking up.
“She’s always around. What’s she to you?”
“To me? Well…”
Her vague question nearly gave me a headache.
What to say? Possession, Lien’s obsession with the original Enoch—it was too complicated.
I settled on one phrase.
“Contractual relationship.”
The cleanest summary.
Sirocco glanced between me and Lien, puzzled, folding her ears.
Thanks to Lien’s efficiency, the cleanup was quick. I leaned my sword against the wall as Sirocco hummed, stepping forward.
She pouted, exclaiming.
“What? Fighting me barehanded again?”
“Yup. It’s just training.”
I wasn’t ready to use a sword against her. A real blade risked injury, but…
The real reason was different.
I spread my empty arms calmly.
“This is enough for you.”
“Hmph, if I win, what then?”
Her eyes narrowed, ears perking.
“I’m always serious. Can you handle it?”
“Win if you can.”
I added lightly.
“If you’re capable.”
“Talking like you’ve already won?”
Sirocco tapped a foot, tail stiffening. At my nod, she kicked off with one leg.
“Here I come!”
With a whoosh, she closed the distance. I stepped back calmly, meeting her gaze.
Her sharp eyes, leaving afterimages, showed she was serious.
She darted diagonally, using walls and pillars for triangular leaps, calculating my retreat, and launched at me with a wall-kick.
Suddenly, she appeared right before me. I widened my eyes slightly.
“How’s that? Different from last time!”
Confidently shouting, she landed and unleashed a sharp kick.
“Hyah!”
But as her foot flew, my body slipped past, a hair’s breadth away. Her eyes widened, shocked at missing.
“Wha—!”
“Definitely stronger than before.”
I’d dodged her kick with blue-black eyes, grabbing her waist.
Leaning down, I whispered.
“Not yet. Train harder.”
“Ugh, what’s that?”
My deadpan taunt made her turn away, fuming.
It wasn’t a lie—her growth since our first spar was evident.
Combat experience from missions had paid off.
But I was growing too.
And unless she reached her original story’s prowess, I could still read her moves.
The second bout ended anticlimactically.
***
The next day.
At dawn, the butler arrived.
Now a familiar face, he delivered a message politely at my door.
“Young Master, a message from the executive office.”
“What is it?”
“Well…”
He hesitated, then said something unexpected.
“Someone’s here to see you.”