The distance between the Ashford training hall and the dining hall was almost nonexistent. In less than a minute, Lucien and I stood several meters apart within the family arena.
Selene sat near one of the observation platforms with visible concern written across her face. Beside her, Ceal calmly prepared several recording devices, likely intending to analyze the battle afterward.
Father, on the other hand, sat alone upon a raised platform directly beside the arena itself, positioned at the perfect angle to observe everything.
There was no need for an instructor.
The moment Father sat down—
Lucien and I moved.
For the first time, I truly felt Lucien's bloodline in its entirety.
Fenrir.
The second-ranked bloodline within House Ashford.
Powerful.
Ferocious.
Vicious.
Silver mana erupted from Lucien's body violently as his silver hair grew longer and wilder around his shoulders. His golden eyes deepened into something far more beastlike.
And then—
for the first time—
I noticed his sword properly.
The blade took on a silver sheen before my eyes, extending slightly in length while becoming thinner and sharper. Yet instinctively, I understood something terrifying.
No matter how hard Lucien swung that weapon—
it would never break.
Glipnir.
His Blood-Bound Royal Weapon.
A Mythic-Class armament granted only to those who had received royal recognition within Peroza itself.
As Lucien moved—
the world slowed.
Not physically.
Only within my perception.
As his form blitzed toward me cloaked in silver mana, I saw everything.
The tightening of his muscles.
The positioning of his feet.
The rhythm of his heartbeat.
The flow of air through his lungs.
Every pulse within his veins.
Every subtle shift in weight.
I saw it all.
And even though my body lagged slightly behind my perception—
I reacted nonetheless.
Small scales formed along my forearms instinctively. They carried the same shade as my skin, only darker and far denser.
CLAAAAANG.
Sword crashed against sword.
I reinforced the block with my forearm—
and still, the force was monstrous.
The shockwave alone sent my arm recoiling backward violently, instantly dislocating my shoulder.
Pain exploded through my body.
Had I been a normal awakener, half my body would have been blown apart into blood mist from that single exchange.
As for my sword—
there was nothing left of it.
Only broken fragments scattered across the arena floor.
Honestly, what had I expected?
An ordinary forged blade against Lucien's Glipnir was no different from placing glass before a natural disaster.
Lucien noticed immediately.
A grin spread across his face.
Meanwhile, I calmly reset my dislocated shoulder with a loud crack before pulling on my gauntlets.
There was nothing truly special about them besides two things:
They were unbreakable.
And they increased the user's defensive capabilities by ten percent.
Compared to Glipnir, they were laughably simple.
Lucien's weapon, on the other hand, possessed an absurd number of abilities.
Most notably:
reducing healing effects by seventy percent, and preventing opponents from creating more than fifty feet of distance between themselves and the wielder.
Completely unfair.
"Don't get too full of yourself now," I said while pointing toward him.
Lucien didn't answer.
His grin simply widened.
Then he lowered into a stance.
His sword shifted beside him while four fingers pressed lightly against the side of the blade. Slowly, he dragged them across the metal—
SCREEEEEECH.
The sound echoed across the arena unpleasantly.
Silver mana exploded outward from the weapon instantly.
Then, from where he stood, Lucien swung three times.
Horizontally.
Vertically.
Diagonally.
"Beast Hunting Cross."
A simple sword technique Father had taught us long ago.
Three slashes layered over one another.
Basic in appearance.
But in the hands of an Ashford—
it became something capable of slaughtering monsters and men alike through sheer overwhelming force.
The sword aura raced toward me at speeds far beyond sound itself.
But I didn't dodge.
Instead, I lowered myself into a martial arts stance.
Oddly enough, memories from my previous life surfaced naturally in moments like these. I had watched countless Japanese and Chinese martial arts films back then. At one point, I had even practiced martial arts personally.
And before abandoning everything to become a full-time writer—
I had once been a junior league MMA champion.
I inhaled deeply.
Then punched.
Not a normal punch.
The space before my fist distorted instantly.
Ripples spread outward like a stone dropped into still water.
Then—
BOOOOOOM.
The incoming sword aura shattered apart violently upon impact.
The entire arena trembled.
And for the first time since the fight began—
Lucien's smile widened with genuine excitement.