A sudden surge of energy exploded across the training field like a tidal wave, sending shockwaves through the air that seemed to bend the very atmosphere itself. The two sparring students and Elsa were yanked toward Subaru and Halibel as if caught in the gravitational pull of an invisible force. The moment was brief but intense, and it left a lingering tension hanging in the air.
Elsa reacted without thinking, her body moving with lethal grace as she slid behind Subaru in a fluid motion. Her eyes, sharp and calculating, scanned the new arrivals like a predator assessing potential threats. Meanwhile, the two students who had been training earlier now stood behind Halibel, their posture rigid, every muscle coiled like a spring. The fire of their interrupted training session still burned hot in their eyes, flickering with the promise of unfinished business.
Halibel took a long, unhurried drag from his gold-plated cigarette, the embers glowing like a dying star. He exhaled a slow, deliberate stream of smoke that curled into the sky, and with a characteristic blend of amusement and nonchalance, he stepped a few paces to the side. His eyes twinkled with a familiar mischief as he addressed his audience.
"Su-san, Elsa... Let me introduce you properly. These two are my students: Frau Claudia and Iris Claudia. They've been training under my guidance for quite some time. In many ways, they're like twins, despite their differences—rivals who push each other further with every clash."
With synchronized precision, Frau and Iris dipped into a low, disciplined bow. The motion was flawless, rehearsed, almost mechanical in its execution. Then, slowly straightening, they turned their attention to Subaru and Elsa, their gazes sharp and appraising.
"Master, who exactly are these two?" Frau asked, folding his arms with practiced ease and lifting one brow slightly. His voice wasn't disrespectful, but the underlying wariness couldn't be missed. There was a caution there, like a swordsman testing a blade's weight before a duel.
Halibel smirked, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. He offered a lazy, almost theatrical half-bow. "These are Natsuki Subaru and Elsa Granhiert. Starting today, they'll be training alongside you. They're under my wing now."
Iris stepped forward with quiet poise, her movement elegant and measured. There was something feline in her grace, something controlled yet ready to pounce. Her gaze narrowed with skeptical curiosity. "If I may be honest, Master... they don't seem especially remarkable at first glance. Is there a particular reason you chose them?"
Subaru took in a breath through his nose, holding it for a moment as he kept his face composed. Beside him, Elsa let out a subtle sigh and rolled her eyes with an expression that blended boredom with amusement. Neither responded to the provocation. They had long grown accustomed to being underestimated—and they knew better than to try and correct perceptions with words. Actions would speak louder.
Halibel raised his brows and chuckled under his breath. "Well then, how about we clear up any doubts? A little demonstration should do the trick. Subaru, you'll face Frau. Elsa, you go up against Iris. Think of it as a warm-up match—nothing serious. I'd like to see how you move in battle, and they'll get a better understanding of why I chose you."
Without hesitation, Subaru and Elsa exchanged a look. A flicker of something passed between them—determination, maybe, or the silent acknowledgment of a challenge accepted. They spoke in unison, their voices calm yet carrying the edge of defiance:
"Of course. Let's get started."
Frau and Iris inclined their heads slightly in agreement, then turned without another word, pacing toward opposite ends of the training field. Their steps were steady, unwavering, each stride a silent testament to their confidence. Subaru cracked his neck and stretched his arms, loosening his shoulders. He then assumed a relaxed stance, observing his opponent with focused interest.
Frau drew the sword from her back with a practiced flourish. The sharp metallic ring of steel echoed across the field, slicing through the silence. His gaze darkened as he realized Subaru stood empty-handed.
"You're seriously going to fight me barehanded?" he asked, his tone colored with confusion rather than mockery.
Subaru grinned, just enough to show amusement. "Is that what it looks like to you?"
With a subtle pulse, shadows flickered around his outstretched hand. A moment later, Duskveil materialized—first as a narrow, almost delicate-looking sword, then morphing in an instant. The weapon split apart, swallowed by swirling darkness, before reforming into twin daggers that locked into his grip with an audible click. Frau's pupils dilated ever so slightly.
"Something about him doesn't add up," he thought silently. Though his expression remained unreadable, his stance adjusted by a fraction. he was no longer underestimating him.
Meanwhile, Elsa had already moved into position. Her fingers wrapped tightly around the hilts of the daggers Subaru had given her, and with a practiced motion, she unsheathed them. The blades gleamed dully, as if drinking in the surrounding light. Though the weapons were familiar, the energy coursing through her veins was electrifying. Her body trembled—not with fear, but with the visceral anticipation of battle.
Iris approached with a calm that bordered on unsettling. Her steps were near-silent, her stance fluid and precise. Elsa watched her carefully, immediately recognizing the balance and control in her movements. This was no amateur. And that realization only heightened Elsa's excitement.
Halibel walked to the very center of the field. With a final drag from his ornate cigarette, he exhaled and tossed the stub aside. The dust swirled around his feet as he looked to each of his four students in turn. A glint of pride and curiosity shone in his eyes as he lifted his hand.
His voice rang out, loud and clear:
"BEGIN!"
Silence fell over the battlefield like a shroud of fog descending from a forgotten mountain. For a moment, everything stood still. Then, a solitary sound broke through: the soft cadence of approaching footsteps, accompanied by the cold whisper of steel being drawn. Words had no place here anymore—only action could speak in this sacred theater of war.
Subaru drew in a long, grounding breath. His chest expanded, shoulders loosened with deliberate intent. In that heavy silence, only one sound remained: the rhythmic drumbeat of his own heart echoing through his ribs like a war drum. The chaos within his mind had dissolved. All thoughts, all doubt, had quieted. What remained was instinct—and a storm rising through every fiber of his body.
As he exhaled slowly, his form coiled tight like a drawn bow, ready to snap. Muscles braced, blood surged, and his gaze sharpened to a razor's edge.
He shifted his weight forward, knees bending with subtle tension. In one precise breath, he released the mana building in his legs.
CRACK.
The ground shattered beneath him. Subaru surged forward, a blur of motion like a bullet leaving its chamber.
Stone erupted underfoot, spiderweb cracks flaring outward like lightning from a wrathful sky.
And in that very instant, a second process unfolded in the depths of his consciousness: the careful channelling of mana into Duskveil.
He had never attempted this during a real fight. In theory, it was manageable. But under the pressure of battle, every heartbeat mattered. Precision mana control amid blood and blades was another kind of war.
And yet—
This sensation was new.
The mana didn't simply pour into the cursed weapon. It flowed, as though the dagger were its true home, as though it had been waiting for this moment.
Duskveil responded greedily. It drank his mana like a starved beast, ravenous and unrelenting. And it wanted more.
This weapon was no mere extension of his will. It was alive. Sentient in its hunger. Thirsty in its silence. Bound to Subaru not by force, but by pact—and need.
[Advanced Dagger Technique – Active]
[Mana Blade – Active]
Dark aura began to pool at the tips of his daggers, flickering like black fire mixed with the crimson sheen of dried blood. Shadows curled and whispered, their voices a chorus in a forgotten tongue. The curse didn't scream—it sang. Low, melodic, and foreboding.
And at the center of that unholy song stood Subaru, perfectly still.
"Start from the basics... Speed, then technique," he murmured to himself. "You know how strong they are. But this time... I'm not backing down."
Frau hadn't anticipated such sudden aggression. His instincts were honed like a veteran's blade, but his vision couldn't catch the full movement. He was simply too fast.
he moved on instinct. His sword flashed, slashing toward the advancing shadow.
SLASH!
A slice so fast it tore through the wind itself, splitting the air with precision.
Subaru had seen this kind of strike before. In his duel with Julius, he'd felt this same chill—that edge of impending death.
But Frau's was different. Cleaner. Sharper. Deadlier.
He twisted his dagger with practiced ease, adjusting his angle with a fractional movement that redirected his blade.
Steel collided with steel. The clang was piercing, echoing like a scream through the battlefield.
CLANG!
The moment his strike failed, Frau adapted with terrifying grace. he spun, shoulder drawing back, his katana sweeping in a brutal horizontal arc.
Another attack. Equally swift, but carrying the weight of an executioner's final blow.
CLANG!
Subaru met the force head-on. The impact sent a shockwave through his body, his bones trembling from the reverberation. His feet held firm, but he could feel the strain—his organs shifted from the concussive force.
This wasn't just swordplay. This was a martial art forged from years of bloodshed. Every movement was deliberate, every strike laced with purpose and fury.
"Good," Subaru thought, lips twitching into a faint, wild grin.
"So you're done playing. Then let's see how far we can push this."
He raised Duskveil diagonally. With a single kick, he launched into the air. His body spun, a spiraling blur that cut through the sky like a falling star.
A diagonal slash descended, wreathed in mana and intent.
SLASH!
Frau reacted instantly. His katana lifted, parrying the descending blow.
CLANG!
Sparks burst in all directions. Time seemed to freeze.
Their eyes met through the clash of weapons—Subaru's burning with unrelenting resolve, Frau's calm and steady, the eyes of a seasoned warrior who had seen too much and survived more.
But Subaru wasn't finished.
With a twist of his torso, his second dagger struck upward in a ruthless arc.
SLASH!
This was no flourish. It was a calculated pattern—a twin-blade maneuver where the first blow forced defense and the second sought blood.
The rhythm was unorthodox. Like a melody with unexpected beats, it forced Frau off balance.
he bent back, narrowly avoiding the second strike. But not entirely.
A thin red line appeared on his cheek, delicate as a whisper but undeniable.
Blood.
Subaru's blade had found him. Only a scratch, but the meaning was clear.
This was no longer practice. The battle had become real.
Silence fell again, thicker than before. Dust swirled around them, and the space between their blades pulsed with unspoken tension.
Frau's hand moved to her cheek. he felt the blood with her fingers.
Then, he smiled. Not wide. Not soft. Just a curl of the lips.
"I see... No flash. No flourish. But you carry danger in every step." Subaru didn't answer. He didn't need to. The fight was only beginning.
Subaru didn't respond. His expression remained locked in concentration, eyes sharp and unwavering, breath calm and steady. Yet deep within his chest, his heart was hammering violently, beating like war drums that roared across an unseen battlefield. Every beat resonated through his limbs, fueling him with a silent, rising energy. And somewhere in the depths of his soul, a voice formed from countless deaths, a whisper carved by suffering, echoed like the lingering breath of a ghost.
He swung Duskveil again. But this time, the motion wasn't raw or reactive. Each movement was honed, each slash infused with elegant precision. His daggers, shrouded in faint trails of shadow, moved like extensions of thought. Every strike carved through the air with intent, weaving together in a rhythm that bordered on artistic. The pattern wasn't chaos—it was calculated fury. The ground beneath him responded with subtle tremors as he stepped and spun, his movements painting a deadly choreography. It was like watching a dancer who had made a pact with death itself.
Frau refused to be overwhelmed. His katana whirled with remarkable finesse, intercepting and countering each strike with a practiced ease that spoke volumes of his training. He didn't just block; he redirected, deflected, guided each attack away with minimal effort. While Subaru was relentless and forceful, Frau was deliberate and centered. Subaru was a storm of blades; Frau was the unwavering mountain that weathered it. Sparks flew from their collisions, the sharp ring of steel on steel echoing like battle hymns.
But Subaru... he was accelerating. His momentum increased with every breath, every heartbeat. His strikes, once merely fast, now became blurs. And in those blurs, raw mana surged.
Mana flowed through him like a flood of fire, igniting every limb with power. With every step, pulses of energy cracked the ground beneath his feet, sending spiderweb fractures across the stone tiles. His daggers burned with spectral glow—they weren't just weapons anymore. They were part of him. His will, his pain, his countless deaths—they all converged into the edge of each blade. His silhouette flickered like a living shadow, a nightmare barely held together by form and fury.
Frau found himself retreating, sweat clinging to his brow, his breath shallow. "You... you're not just strong. You're something else."
Still, Subaru didn't speak. The silence between them was heavier than words. His eyes remained locked, unreadable and distant. Behind them burned the memory of pain—a fire that had consumed him many times and still hadn't gone out.
When they clashed again, the force of their collision created a deafening shockwave. The arena roared in response—dust exploded skyward, the air rippled, and the ropes that marked the edges strained as if trying to contain a tempest. All who watched were frozen, their eyes wide, their lungs forgetting to breathe. The battlefield itself seemed to cry out beneath their feet.
[Fade - Active]
Then—Subaru vanished. Not disappeared, not cloaked. He simply moved beyond visibility. Like a shadow slipping between cracks in reality, he blurred from sight. Frau's eyes scanned wildly, searching the dust and light, but he was gone. The dust swirled, thick and impenetrable. It was no magic trick. He had outpaced perception.
On the sidelines, Halibel's brow furrowed as he exhaled a cloud of smoke. "This isn't invisibility. It's something more dangerous... movement beyond the threshold of his senses."
Suddenly, Subaru reappeared—behind Frau. He hadn't teleported; he had arrived. His longer dagger sliced through the air with a piercing shriek.
SWISH!
Frau reacted on instinct alone. He threw himself to the side, narrowly avoiding a lethal blow. But not unscathed. The dagger tore through the fabric of his uniform and etched a shallow line across his shoulder. A burst of crimson followed.
He stumbled back a few steps, one hand pressing against the fresh wound. Yet instead of pain, his expression lit up with exhilaration. His eyes gleamed like stars newly born.
"Wonderful," he whispered. "A real fight. At last... someone worth my blade."
His stance shifted. He angled his katana downward, holding it in a manner Subaru hadn't encountered before. There was something in his posture—a change in his breathing, a quiet stillness before the storm. Subaru narrowed his eyes. He recognized it: a form not meant for defense, but for destruction.
And then he launched himself forward.
Frau became a whirlwind of steel, a flurry of razor-sharp strikes. His movements were no longer measured. They were furious, primal, driven by exhilaration and pure instinct. The katana blurred, slicing the air in arcs that shimmered under the force of his will. He was no longer holding back.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
Subaru retreated, each step purposeful, as he blocked and dodged with uncanny precision. His daggers clashed against Frau's blade in rapid succession, ringing out with brutal clarity. Still, slivers of metal bit into his flesh. Cuts began to bloom along his arms and shoulders, blood trickling down to stain the ground. His jacket was shredded, his skin marred by red streaks.
And yet—his focus didn't waver. If anything, the pain sharpened it.
Frau halted for a breath, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "I'm going to push further. Prepare yourself, Subaru."
Subaru nodded once, lowering into a readied stance. "Give me everything you have."
They lunged at each other again. The sound of steel echoed like thunder, ringing out across the field. The ground split and groaned beneath their feet. Mana pulsed through every movement, and the arena began to feel more like a war zone than a sparring ground.
This was no longer training. This was a test of conviction.
Frau surged again, the clarity in his strikes intensified. It was now obvious—his earlier attacks had merely been an assessment. A probe. Now, he fought in earnest. Every swing of his katana roared with purpose, splitting the air like lightning. Each strike held weight, as if he were trying to carve meaning into every clash.
SLASH
And still, Subaru met him. Even as blood dripped from his wounds, even as exhaustion crept into his limbs, he met Frau with the same fire burning in his eyes. The fire that said: "I am not done yet."
Subaru was just about to step in toward Frau, aiming to pressure his katana out of reach, when he felt it—a razor-sharp gust of air sweeping up from below. His instincts screamed, but they had triggered a heartbeat too late. In one seamless motion, Frau had pulled a concealed kunai from the folds of his clothing and launched a merciless dual strike: a descending arc from above with his katana, and a sudden upward thrust from below with the kunai.
The deadly elegance of his attack caught even Subaru off guard, his eyes narrowing with sudden clarity.
"Damn it..." he cursed inwardly, clenching his jaw. "Then at least... I'll make sure that sword leaves your hand."
He didn't hesitate. He didn't even flinch. Knowing full well he would be hit, Subaru hurled himself forward with complete resolve. The kunai tore through the flesh of his right thigh with vicious precision, a burning gash opening along the side of his leg. But he pushed forward through the pain, channeling every ounce of momentum into one decisive move.
His fingers tightened around Duskveil. In one swift motion, he flung the cursed dagger forward—a blur of black steel flying straight toward Frau's sword arm.
CLANG!
The strike landed clean. The dagger hit with just enough force and placement to jar the katana from his grip. His weapon spun away and hit the ground with a metallic thud, skidding to a halt several feet away.
Subaru, however, was thrown off balance from the pain and force of his lunge. He fell to the ground with a harsh thud, his back striking the hard earth. The breath rushed from his lungs, but he forced himself back up, gritting his teeth. Blood ran down his leg, soaking into the fabric of his pants, but he ignored it. The pain was sharp, but manageable. His last-second shift in angle had kept the wound from cutting too deep.
Frau didn't hesitate. He caught himself quickly, kunai gripped tight, his expression shifting from initial surprise to a cool, ruthless calm. The momentary shock faded as his muscles tensed for another strike.
--
But then—
BAM!
A thunderous crash echoed through the air as a colossal hand slammed down from above, pinning him to the ground like a nail under a hammer. The force drove his face-first into the dirt, and a muffled grunt escaped his lips.
Subaru's eyes widened as he turned toward the sudden impact. The owner of the massive hand loomed into view.
It was Halibel.
"Why'd you stop us, Hal-san?" Subaru asked, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. Sweat clung to his brow, and his chest heaved from exertion.
Halibel rolled his neck with a faint crack and casually shrugged his broad shoulders. "Match is over. Your girlfriend already wrapped hers up a while ago. I've been watching you two dance around each other long enough. Figured now was the time to call it. Problem with that?"
Subaru was silent for a few moments, catching his breath. Then, with a resigned exhale, he shook his head. "No... That makes it a draw then. And also—Elsa's not my girlfriend. Don't read into it."
He turned away from the scene, each footstep heavy with leftover adrenaline and pain. The burn in his leg flared with each movement, but he powered through, eyes fixed ahead.
Elsa stood a short distance away, watching him approach with visible amusement. Her dress was in tatters, shredded from neck to hem in a hundred places, yet her skin was flawless. Not a single cut or bruise marred her form. Her raven-black hair spilled over her shoulders, wind-swept and wild, and her eyes gleamed with victorious delight.
"How was your match?" Subaru asked, a faint, wry smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Elsa lifted her chin proudly, hands planted on her hips. "As you can see, I won! That little girl's still over there moping. Look."
Subaru followed her gaze. In the distance, Iris stood utterly still, her sword dropped at her feet, shoulders slumped. Her eyes were fixed on the ground, her expression distant. She hadn't even noticed anyone approaching.
Elsa stepped forward, closing the space between them. Her fingers gently cupped Subaru's cheeks, lifting his face toward hers. "And what about you? Did you win? Also... what the hell are all these cuts? Take your shirt off, now."
Subaru sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes—but he didn't resist. With a wince, he slipped off his jacket and handed it to her. Elsa took it without hesitation and slid it over her shoulders like it belonged to her.
He pulled his sweater up and over his head, revealing the wound stretching along his right shoulder—shallow, but still bleeding steadily. The skin around it was bruised and red.
"It was a draw," he muttered, almost disappointed. "If I had full access to my mana, I would've taken it clean. No contest."
Elsa didn't argue. Instead, she tore a strip of fabric from the already ruined hem of her dress and began tending to his shoulder with surprising care. Her fingers were light, precise, and practiced.
"Your fighting style... it's not just blade work," she said softly, wrapping the cloth around his arm with even pressure. "It's mana. Instinct. Flow. You fight like someone balancing on the edge of two worlds. That makes you strong... but also fragile. You can't afford to let your body break down before your spirit does."
Subaru looked down at her hands, then back at her face. He didn't argue. Her words rang true.
His way of fighting wasn't about brute strength or flawless technique. It was about rhythm, intent, and adaptability. A synthesis of soul and strategy. And every wound he took in this hybrid path was a reminder of how demanding—and dangerous—that road could be.
This match had taught him something important. He was no longer just someone trying to keep up.
He was becoming something else entirely.
After a brief yet deliberate exchange with Frau and Iris to assess the aftermath of the intense duel, Halibel began to walk toward Subaru and Elsa. His pace was measured, every footfall resonating with a sense of quiet command. The flicker of the recent battle still lingered in his gaze—an intensity not born of concern, but of interest. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips, thoughtful and calculating. When he finally spoke, his voice carried the warmth of experience, yet it was edged with the unmistakable steel of leadership honed through countless battles.
"Well done. That was an impressive victory," he said, his eyes shifting between them. "It was no ordinary duel. There was precision, unpredictability... and a dangerous hint of something deeper. I trust you both agree it was a fair fight?"
Frau gave a small, reluctant snort, folding his arms. Though her expression was unreadable, heis curiosity was piqued. he extended a hand toward Subaru, brows slightly raised. "That dagger you used... it came from nowhere, and then it just vanished. What kind of trick was that?"
Subaru took a small breath and was about to respond when Halibel raised his hand—a calm, subtle motion, but one that carried weight. The tone of his voice dropped slightly as he spoke, becoming more serious.
"That would be Duskveil," he said. "A cursed weapon with a will of its own. Subaru is its chosen wielder. Through their bond, he can manifest the daggers at will. This is not some skill he developed, but a pact with a relic tied to fate. It is power... but not without cost."
Subaru gave a solemn nod, as if acknowledging the invisible burden the weapon placed on him. He then spoke, his voice level and unhurried. "The stealth technique I used—that came from Elsa. She used to belong to a guild of assassins. She taught me how to move like that."
Iris turned sharply, her expression tense with restrained disbelief. Her fists clenched at her sides. "That explains your speed and those feints... But who the hell throws themselves into a blade just to land a counter? Are you insane? And your wounds... I watched them vanish almost instantly. How is that even possible?"
Elsa responded with a calmness that was almost chilling. She tilted her head slightly, a shadowy smile playing across her lips. "Pain doesn't frighten me. Nor does blood. I've accepted both sides of the blade—the one that cuts, and the one that bleeds."
Halibel clapped his hands twice, the sound echoing across the training grounds. His voice rose, firm and clear. "Enough questions. Everyone, sit."
Obediently, the group formed a semicircle around him, each student taking a seat on the packed earth. Halibel himself settled into the center, crossing his legs with the poise of someone who commanded attention not by force, but by presence. His eyes turned first to Subaru, and he pointed deliberately.
"Subaru. Your combat style relies heavily on mana. Whenever your body falls short, you lean on magical amplification to push through. While this can be effective in short bursts, it burns through your reserves at an unsustainable rate. And if you run out in the middle of a fight... you fall. Your foundation is unstable. From this point on, your training will focus on the fundamentals: body strength, weapons proficiency, stamina, and speed. Only by grounding yourself physically can you truly make use of your other talents."
Subaru lowered his gaze in agreement. It wasn't a surprise to hear this—he had known it deep down. But hearing it aloud, from Halibel of all people, brought a finality that was hard to ignore.
Then Halibel shifted his attention to Elsa. His eyes softened slightly, but remained focused. Elsa sat quietly, seemingly at ease, but Halibel could tell there was tension beneath her calm exterior. Her hands rested motionless, her breathing even, but her shoulders were just a touch too stiff.
"You trust your regeneration far too much," he said. "It has made you reckless. But what happens if you receive a wound that cuts faster than you can heal? That single moment could be fatal. You'll be going through the same physical training as Subaru. In addition to that... you'll begin studying mana manipulation."
Elsa's reaction was subtle, but not imperceptible. Her brow furrowed slightly, and for the first time, uncertainty crept into her voice. "But... my body doesn't handle mana well. That's what I was told. I've always known that."
Halibel pulled a cigarette from his coat, lit it with practiced ease, and inhaled deeply. Smoke curled from his lips as he exhaled, and when he spoke again, his voice was calm but cutting.
"That's not true, Elsa. Your body is more compatible with mana than you think. It's your regeneration that causes disruptions, rerouting the mana's natural flow. But it doesn't prevent it. If you were truly incompatible, you wouldn't be able to channel mana through your blades. Which means... someone has been lying to you. For a very long time."
Elsa's eyes widened, just slightly. Her fingers curled into her lap, and her lips parted as if to speak—but no words came. The air around her felt heavier, as if the ground itself had shifted beneath her. The things she had been told, the teachings drilled into her since childhood, now quivered with uncertainty. If Halibel was right... then everything she had believed about herself might be wrong.
And in the silence that followed, the shadows of truth and deception warred quietly inside her, unresolved and haunting.
When it came time for Frau to be addressed, Halibel wasted no time. His voice was steady but commanding, filled with the unmistakable tone of finality that silenced any thoughts of rebuttal.
"Your techniques are impressive, no doubt about that," he began, his gaze locked onto hers. "You have sharp instincts, and your offensive skills are highly developed. However, you're far too vulnerable to rapid, sustained aggression. Your match with Subaru made that painfully clear. You struggled to adapt to his tempo. Your defensive reflexes were not only slow—they were practically nonexistent in key moments."
He paused for a moment, letting the criticism land without softening the blow. "From now on, you'll be put through a specialized training program. It'll be grueling. It will test you. You'll focus on endurance above all else, and refine your mana control until it becomes second nature. This isn't optional. No exceptions."
Frau lowered his head ever so slightly. It wasn't defiance—it was acceptance. The critique stung, but he couldn't deny its truth. His mind replayed the earlier battle, each mistake replaying in sharp, unwelcome clarity. he knew he could be better—and now he would have to be.
Then, Halibel turned his attention to Iris.
"Your movement is smooth, and your technical precision is evident. You've clearly trained with discipline and control. Your forms are clean, your stances measured. But when you're faced with someone who breaks convention—someone like Elsa, who fights with unpredictability and aggression—you lose your footing. You become too rigid."
His eyes narrowed slightly, not in judgment but focus. "That is why, starting today, you're going to take a more active role in your brother's training. You'll still work on technique, but that's not enough anymore. You're going to teach her adaptability, flexibility, and how to improvise. Your role is not just to guide her but to grow with her. Learn from her as much as you teach."
There was no anger in his tone. Only the weight of expectation and a belief that they could rise to meet it.
Once he had spoken his piece, Halibel straightened his posture and slowly turned his eyes toward the distant horizon. The sun was sinking lower, casting long golden rays across the now-quiet field. The warmth of the day had begun to fade, and the air held a cool stillness that often came before nightfall.
He sighed through his nose, a tired but content sound. "Final evaluation," he said, speaking to the group as a whole. "Subaru shows the highest level of mana control. Elsa is the fastest and most instinct-driven combatant. Frau and Iris display the most refined technique, but still have a long road ahead."
He let the words hang in the air before giving a small nod. "That concludes today's training. The sun's almost gone... and frankly, I'd rather enjoy the last light with a cigarette than keep repeating myself."
Frau and Iris both gave respectful bows, their movements sharp and formal. Though they said nothing, the look in their eyes suggested determination had already begun to harden into resolve.
Elsa gave a lazy little wave instead of a bow, then followed it up with a casual smirk. Subaru, slightly amused by her antics, offered a shallow nod and clasped his hands behind his back.
One by one, the group began to disperse. No one spoke. No one needed to. The echoes of the day's lessons followed each of them in silence, heavy yet motivating.
The training ground, once filled with the clang of metal and the surge of mana, now stood quiet.
Training was over.
For now.