Chapter 733: Mesmerizing
Time continued to blur, and soon, Warlord Raelith came to a complete stop, his katana pointing straight ahead. Sweat dripped from his body, glistening under the dim light, yet his breath remained calm and measured, unbroken by fatigue. His blue eyes stayed fixed forward, his expression distant, as though caught in a trance. It was as if realization and actualization were flowing into his mind and body like gentle streams, merging serenity and enlightenment into one seamless state.
He stood motionless for several seconds before he finally snapped out of it. His senses returned to him, and the clarity of the once-vanished world began to reappear. The rune formation beneath his feet pulsed faintly, responding to the end of his training session. In that instant, the glowing runes flared brightly, and space itself began to retract, shrinking and condensing back to its original, contained expanse.
A satisfied smile curved Raelith’s lips, the kind one wears after a perfect, fruitful session. But before he could even exhale fully, his body stiffened. A sound reached his ears, echoing softly through the chamber.
Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap.
Raelith’s head snapped to the left, his sharp blue eyes meeting another pair of equally striking blue eyes, eyes that mirrored his own in brilliance, if not in age. The newcomer’s white hair contrasted sharply against his own black, giving him an ethereal, almost timeless appearance.
Recognition came instantly.
Major Null Anthony.
’How long has he been here?’ Raelith thought, mildly startled, though he pushed the thought aside a moment later. Normally, watching another warrior’s personal training without permission was considered a grave taboo among the elites of the world, an intrusion into their most intimate discipline. But, Raelith felt no irritation, no sense of violation.
After all, Anthony was not just anyone.
It was this very man who had once shown Raelith the flaws in his long-perfected techniques, techniques he had practiced for centuries. Anthony had offered him insight, correction, and truth where others dared not. Without that guidance, Raelith knew it might have taken him decades, perhaps even centuries, to achieve the progress he now enjoyed.
The two men stared at each other in silence, no words exchanged, yet countless thoughts passing between them in that stillness.
Raelith didn’t quite know how to begin. Yes, he had once lost to Anthony in a duel of pure katanamanship, yet he had always believed himself superior in overall battle prowess. Back then, he had rationalized it, believing Anthony’s skill with the blade was refined, but his combat strength still fell short.
Now, however, that illusion had shattered completely. Anthony stood before him, and Raelith could feel it, the overwhelming presence, the calm power, the transcendence. The young man had surpassed him. Not just in skill, but in existence itself.
It wasn’t jealousy that stirred in his chest, no, it was shock. A kind of humbled awe.
Anthony was only nineteen... about to turn twenty.
He and Warlord Aerenya, the Elf Warlord, along with Warlord Brontagar, the Titan Warlord, had once discussed Anthony’s potential. Even they, beings of immense wisdom and power, had predicted that it would take the boy decades, perhaps longer, to touch the level of a Supreme Monarch.
Yet here he was, standing before Raelith, effortlessly defying every expectation and shattering every limitation they had once believed unbreakable. His achievements rendered their earlier assumptions laughable, the thoughts of frogs in a well, oblivious to the vastness of the ocean.
Raelith silently thanked the stars that his relationship with Anthony had never been built upon power, status, or gain. It had begun out of duty, yes, his initial approach to Anthony had been influenced by the young man’s mother, the Supreme Monarch of their military base. But that formality had long since faded. What remained was something genuine, built on mutual respect and shared understanding.
Another Warlord might have despised Anthony, resented his lineage, envied his gifts, or subtly expressed disdain for the privileges he possessed by birth. But Raelith was not that kind of man. He had no envy for greatness honestly earned.
The silence between them stretched on, unbroken and comfortable, until Anthony finally spoke, his calm voice cutting softly through the still air.
"Your training," he said, his tone steady and thoughtful, "was beautiful and... mesmerizing."
At those words, Raelith smiled faintly. Though he was centuries older than Anthony, the galaxy cared nothing for age, only for power and mastery. And when it came to the art of the katana, Anthony’s mastery eclipsed his own. To receive such words from Anthony himself was no small matter; to Raelith, it was a compliment beyond value.
His grip on the katana tightened subtly, renewed determination surging through him. His spirit, once calm, now burned brighter, as though Anthony’s acknowledgment had reignited his passion to train even harder.
"Thank you," Raelith said sincerely. "It wouldn’t have been possible without you."
Anthony smiled lightly at the words, shaking his head. "It doesn’t matter," he replied steadily. "If a pig is given a diamond, it wouldn’t know what to do with it, it’s incapable of recognizing its worth."
Raelith understood immediately. The meaning was simple, yet profound. Anthony wasn’t insulting him; rather, he meant that knowledge and insight were useless in the hands of someone without the capacity to understand or utilize them. Talent and comprehension mattered far more than mere possession of wisdom.
Though comparing himself to a pig might have sounded derogatory to others, Raelith didn’t take offense. He knew Anthony too well to misunderstand him, the analogy was merely an example, not an insult.
Choosing not to dwell on it further, Raelith gave a small nod, his expression calm.
With a mere thought, he summoned mana to his body. The energy swept over him like a cleansing tide, washing away the sweat that clung to his skin like a second layer. His black hair straightened perfectly, falling neatly in place. His crimson cape materialized once more, draping elegantly over his shoulders, billowing faintly with residual mana.
In one swift, graceful motion, his right hand moved. With a sharp click, his katana slid perfectly into its scabbard, locking securely at his waist. The soft sound echoed through the chamber, signaling both discipline and closure.
Raelith’s blue eyes shifted back to Anthony, and when he spoke again, his voice carried the steady composure of a Warlord who had regained his formality, though warmth remained beneath his tone.
"Where have you been?" he asked calmly. "We even asked your teammates about you."
Anthony’s lips curved slightly into a half-smile. "Been out with my woman," he replied smoothly, a playful glint in his eyes. "You should try hanging out with yours."
Raelith blinked once, then chuckled quietly, the corners of his lips lifting. That was Anthony, calm, direct, confident, yet so effortlessly human despite the divinity that surrounded him.