Chapter 42: One of those days.
The air changed instantly.
Frost rolled off the blade in soft spirals, weaving across the floor like silk threads of mist. The temperature dropped in a heartbeat, my breath turning white.
A faint hum filled the air low, melodic, and alive. Blue light rippled down the glass blade, brightening until it looked like a fragment of winter sky trapped in crystal.
I could feel the mana moving steady, focused, perfect. Not even a hint of resistance. It flowed through me, through her, as if we shared the same pulse.
A moment later, the frost on the ground coalesced into a single perfect snowflake, spinning lazily before dissolving into air.
I exhaled slowly. "That’s... incredible."
Did Sacha do good? she asked, voice bubbling with pride.
I smiled. "Yeah. You did great."
Heehee... Papa’s proud of Sacha!
"Of course I am," I said, lowering the blade carefully. The glow faded, leaving faint trails of frost around my feet. "But let’s keep the ice to a minimum indoors, alright?"
Sacha will try... but no promises!
I chuckled, shaking my head. "Even her excuses sound like mine."
{She really is your spawn,} Bastard muttered. {Congratulations, you’ve reproduced through sheer arrogance.}
I ignored him and gave the sword a small pat on the flat. "You’re amazing, Sacha."
The blade purred softly in my hand, her voice faint but warm. Papa’s amazing too.
I sighed, the corner of my mouth lifting. "Now that’s just flattery."
No. Truth.
And somehow, hearing it from her made me believe it for half a second.
---
The training field unfolded around me, the same endless expanse of black and white tiles suspended in quiet stillness. The air hummed faintly with residual mana, every breath thick with the scent of ozone.
I stood in the center, wearing my usual black tracksuit, the one Belle said made me "look less like a lost noble and more like someone who might actually win a fight."
Across from me, Belle was already there, standing barefoot on the mirrored floor.
She wore her usual training attire, a dark sports top and compression shorts, simple and unadorned, made for movement and precision. Her black hair, streaked with faint crimson near the ends, was tied back in a loose braid that brushed against her shoulder.
A black blindfold covered her eyes, the same one she’d worn since the first day we met. But that didn’t matter; Belle didn’t see the way others did. The air itself seemed to bend toward her, responding to every shift of her breath, every heartbeat.
Her head tilted slightly in my direction.
"You’re early," she said, voice light but edged with amusement.
I smirked. "Trying to impress my terrifying, blind, mana-addict instructor."
Belle hummed softly. "Careful, Sebastian. Compliments might make me go easy on you."
"You? Go easy on anyone?" I snorted. "That’ll be the day."
A faint smile tugged at her lips, brief but genuine. Around her, the air rippled faintly with power, like heat rising off a summer road. She didn’t move yet, but the pressure was already there, subtle and suffocating.
Off to the side, Sacha sat on the floor in her tiger form, tail curled neatly around her paws. Her blue eyes followed me with lazy curiosity, but the occasional flick of her ear betrayed her excitement.
"Today’s your final session before the entrance exam," she said, stepping forward. The tiles cracked faintly beneath her bare feet as her mana flared controlled, deliberate, but undeniably powerful. "Show me if you’re ready to stop being a student."
Sacha rumbled quietly, her fur bristling at the rising tension.
I rolled my shoulders, cracked my neck, and smiled faintly. "So it’s another one of those days."
Belle’s smile widened just slightly, her blindfold shifting as she turned her face toward me.
"Exactly one of those days."
Belle stood across from me, one hand resting on her hip, the other lazily brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
"We’ll start hand-to-hand," she said. "No mana, no weapons. Then we move on to blades."
"Got it," I said, bouncing lightly on my heels.
Her lips curved. "Good. Try not to die before we get to the fun part."
The words were still hanging in the air when she vanished.
I barely caught the flicker of motion before her foot came for my ribs. I twisted, catching her leg on my forearm and redirecting it to the side. The impact numbed my arm, but I stayed standing.
She was already spinning with the momentum, elbow slicing through the air. I ducked under it and drove my fist toward her stomach.
She blocked, grabbed my wrist, and tried to throw me, but I planted my foot, using her own strength to pivot and sweep her leg instead.
Belle hit the ground with a grunt but rolled immediately, sweeping at my ankles. I jumped back, her heel cutting the air an inch below my foot.
For the first time, I saw her smile widen."You’re getting faster," she said, standing.
"Guess you’re finally rubbing off on me."
"Let’s not get ahead of ourselves."
She came again, and I met her halfway. Punches, kicks, parries, a blur of motion and noise. The air cracked with each impact. I was sweating, panting, but I wasn’t being thrown around like before.
Every movement felt sharper, more deliberate. My mana control training had paid off, even without using it directly, my body flowed better.
The rhythm between us was almost natural now, like sparring with someone who knew every flaw in your form because they’d put them there themselves.
I caught her wrist mid-punch, twisted, and went for a takedown—
Then she stopped.
Her blindfolded face turned toward me, calm and thoughtful.
"Oh," she said lightly, as if remembering she left the stove on. "I just realized something."
"What?" I asked, still holding her wrist.
"I’ve been suppressing my power to F-rank."
"...What."
"Not E-rank. F."
There was a pause. Then she smiled a small, utterly evil smile.
"My mistake."
Before I could respond, her knee slammed into my gut.
Air exploded from my lungs. I doubled over, only for her elbow to crack against my back, sending me sprawling across the tiles.
"Wait—Belle—"
Too late. She was already on me again, moving faster than before, her blows sharp and merciless. Each hit landed like a hammer, knocking me off balance before I could recover.
I managed to block one punch, barely, the shock still made my bones ache.
"Oh good," she said cheerfully. "You’re not dead yet."
"Not—planning—to be!" I gasped, dodging a kick that still grazed my cheek.
She tilted her head, amused. "Then try harder."
Her next strike hit my ribs. Something cracked.
Sacha growled softly from the corner, her fur bristling, but I raised a hand weakly. "Stay. It’s... fine..."
Belle stepped back finally, breathing steady, skin glistening with sweat. "You lasted longer than I expected," she said.
"Yeah," I wheezed, collapsing onto one knee. "You never really forgot my rank, did you?"
"That’s progress," she said with a faint grin. "A few months ago, you couldn’t even dodge my shadow."
I groaned, clutching my side. "A few months later, and you’re still trying to kill me."
She shrugged. "Semantics."
Despite the bruises, I couldn’t help laughing under my breath. "You’re insane."
Belle smiled faintly. "And you’re learning."