The academy's rhythm, once a baffling enigma, had become a predictable hum beneath Rudelion's meticulously crafted routine. Days were a calculated dance of classes, Mana channeling exercises in the serene Whispering Grotto, and the ceaseless accumulation of Gacha Tickets through DAILY OBJECTIVES. His Mana Conduit Optimization passive hummed, ensuring every Mana expenditure was efficient, every gain maximized. Yet, despite his relentless self-improvement, a subtle hunger gnawed at him. He was becoming stronger, faster, more resilient, but there was a distinct absence of raw, physical challenge. The controlled environment of the academy, even its advanced training facilities, lacked the visceral impact of Murim combat, the sheer, unbridled force he'd faced in his past lives. His physical stats were increasing, but the muscle memory for truly absorbing bone-shattering blows, for grappling with overwhelming force, remained theoretical.
He needed a sparring partner. Not just any partner, but one who embodied raw, unrefined power. Someone whose Mana signature thrummed with the kind of physical might he needed to test and integrate.
His thoughts immediately gravitated to Kael.
Kael, the hulking brute from a minor noble house, whose Mana signature pulsed like a thrumming war drum. Kael, with his Berserker Blood Imprint, a raw, almost feral talent for channeling Mana directly into physical attributes. Rudelion had observed him in 'Combat Application' classes – powerful, reckless, but with an underlying purity of intent. And Kael, whom Rudelion had subtly impressed with a single, perfectly timed observation during a sparring session. The boy had looked at him with an open, almost childlike gratitude, a far cry from the wary respect or outright fear Rudelion was accustomed to. Kael was an opportunity.
The opportunity presented itself later that afternoon, after a particularly uninspiring lecture on 'Formal Arcana Invocation.' Kael, his shoulders broad and slumping slightly, was making his way towards the student mess hall, his Mana signature radiating mild frustration. Rudelion intercepted him with a casual, almost accidental collision at a junction of two corridors, his Charisma instinctively nudging the interaction into a favorable light.
"My apologies, Kael," Rudelion said, his voice smooth, tinged with just the right amount of polite concern. He met Kael's gaze with his heterochromatic eyes, ensuring the unique purple and black held a steady, non-threatening intensity. "I was lost in thought about the subtleties of Mana manipulation, it seems."
Kael, surprised, blinked his deep-set brown eyes. "Oh, Rudelion! No, no, my fault. I was... well, I was thinking about how hard it is to get my Mana to do what I want in precise ways. My Berserker Imprint just wants to go boom and hit things." He grumbled, a frustrated rumble in his chest.
Rudelion allowed a faint, knowing smile to play on his lips. "A common predicament for those with potent physical Blood Imprints. Raw power often overshadows finesse." He paused, letting the words hang, his Arcane Insight already analyzing Kael's Mana flow and the subtle inefficiencies in his physical spells. "I, too, find myself seeking to refine my understanding of practical application. My Mana, though… different, feels like it needs a stronger anchor, a denser medium to truly express itself." He deliberately kept his language vague, hinting at a shared struggle without revealing the true nature of his Demon God vessel.
Kael's eyes lit up with sudden interest. "You do? I thought you were one of those high-born geniuses who just... understood everything. Like how you saw that weakness in my stance last week, just like that!" He snapped his fingers, his voice dropping in admiration.
Rudelion gave a self-deprecating chuckle, a carefully cultivated sound. "Hardly. I merely possess a… unique perspective. Perhaps my prior ailment, forcing me into observation, granted me some insights others overlook. But theoretical understanding is one thing. Practical, high-impact application is another entirely." He paused again, meeting Kael's gaze directly. "Tell me, Kael. Would you be open to a proposition? A mutual benefit, perhaps?"
Kael looked intrigued. "A proposition? What kind?"
"Joint training," Rudelion offered, making the suggestion sound like a shared scientific endeavor rather than a mere sparring request. "Your Blood Imprint, the sheer force of your Mana channeling into physical might… it is quite remarkable. It offers a formidable 'medium' against which to test the resilience of certain defensive Mana constructs. And in turn, perhaps my 'unique perspective' can offer insights into refining your own Mana flow, making your 'boom' more precise, less wasteful." He injected a subtle tone of intellectual curiosity, framing it as an opportunity for Kael to further master his Berserker Blood Imprint.
Kael's eyes widened, then a wide, earnest grin split his face. "You mean… like, sparring? But with Mana? So you can figure out your fancy shields, and I can hit harder?" His excitement was palpable, radiating through his Mana signature. "That sounds… amazing! No one ever wants to train with me properly. They just complain I hit too hard."
Rudelion suppressed an inward smirk. Perfect. "Precisely. No holding back. Within reason, of course. We are at an academy, after all." He added the caveat for appearances, knowing full well he could handle Kael's full force without truly breaking a sweat. "Perhaps tomorrow morning? Early, before the main crowds gather. The western training fields are often less occupied."
"Deal!" Kael exclaimed, extending a massive hand that could crush a watermelon. Rudelion met it, his grip firm but controlled. Kael's strength was considerable, but Rudelion's Strength stat, now at 12, coupled with his hidden Mana enhancements, allowed him to match it without strain.
The next morning, the western training fields were indeed desolate, save for the two of them. The air was cool and crisp, the rising sun casting long, exaggerated shadows. Kael was already there, brimming with eager energy, his Mana thrumming with anticipation.
"Ready, Rudelion?" Kael roared, already activating his Berserker Blood Imprint. His skin took on a faint reddish hue, and his muscles visibly bulged, Mana coursing beneath his skin, transforming into raw physical might. His Mana signature swelled, radiating pure, unadulterated power.
"Ready, Kael," Rudelion replied, his voice calm, his eyes analyzing every shift in Kael's Mana and posture. He adopted a relaxed stance, reminiscent of the defensive forms he'd mastered in the Murim, but adapted for this Mana-infused world. He would use his Void Step and Mana Shield to absorb or evade Kael's blows, pushing them to their limits without revealing the true extent of his capabilities.
Kael lunged, a human battering ram, his fist wreathed in crackling Mana-infused physical force. The blow was direct, powerful enough to shatter solid rock. Rudelion did not dodge completely. Instead, he activated Mana Shield over his forearm, simultaneously shifting his weight and slightly bending his elbow, subtly reducing the impact. The Mana Shield shimmered, absorbing the brunt of the force. A faint shockwave rippled through the air, and Rudelion felt the impact, a solid thud, but no pain. His Vitality stat, now 17, absorbed the shock with ease.
"Good!" Kael yelled, undeterred, his eyes gleaming with excitement. He chained into a rapid succession of powerful strikes, each one infused with the raw energy of his Berserker Imprint. Rudelion moved, a blur of calculated evasion. He employed Void Step to appear behind Kael, then re-engage his Mana Shield to block a backhand. He tested the limits of the shield, letting increasingly powerful blows strike it, feeling the Mana drain, assessing its durability. He used Defensive Arcana Weaving to subtly reduce the Mana cost, prolonging the shield's effectiveness.
"Again, Kael! Put more Mana into that!" Rudelion encouraged, his voice steady, masking the analytical hum of his Arcane Insight as it devoured every detail of Kael's Mana expenditure, his muscle contractions, the subtle tells of his Berserker surges. He was learning not just how to defend, but how this world's Mana-infused physical combat truly worked, from the ground up.
Kael, delighted by the encouragement, bellowed and unleashed a furious volley, his Mana flaring. Rudelion allowed a few glancing blows to land, testing his raw Vitality, confirming his resilience. The impacts were dull thuds against his strengthened frame, leaving no lingering pain, no lingering ache.
This doesn't even making me Sweat. The internal mantra rang true. He was barely exerting himself. The physical exertion was minimal for him, a warm-up compared to the agony of Murim cultivation. The real work was mental – the constant analysis, the controlled Mana expenditure, the calculated deception.
After a particularly ferocious exchange where Kael unleashed a series of Mana-infused uppercuts, Rudelion allowed himself to be pushed back a few feet, feigning a slight exertion. "Excellent Mana control, Kael," he said, his voice even, though he was careful to breathe a little harder than strictly necessary. "Your power output is immense. However," he paused, subtly activating Arcane Insight to highlight Kael's flaws, "I noticed a slight dissipation of Mana in your left jab. If you focused that energy an inch lower, twisting your wrist just so, the impact would be devastating. Your Mana flow becomes slightly inefficient at the very end of your extension."
Kael froze, his eyes widening. He mimed the movement, then his Mana signature flared with understanding. "You're right! I always felt something was off there, but couldn't pinpoint it!" He immediately started practicing the refined movement, his Mana flow visibly tightening, becoming more concentrated. Rudelion observed, a satisfied hum in his mind. He was not only gaining invaluable training, but also deepening Kael's dependence and admiration. Kael would become an invaluable tool, a loyal dog, without even realizing it.
He then shifted focus to his offensive skills. "Kael, allow me to test some basic Mana projections against your defenses," Rudelion suggested. "Focus on your Berserker Imprint's durability. Don't move."
Kael nodded enthusiastically, adopting a rigid defensive stance, his Mana-infused muscles flexing. Rudelion launched a Mana Bolt, carefully calibrated to be powerful enough to test Kael's defenses, but not so strong as to cause serious injury. He infused it with 'Wind' Mana via Basic Elemental Infusion, creating a focused, green projectile that struck Kael's armored chest with a sharp impact. Kael grunted, but his Berserker Imprint held, absorbing the blow.
Rudelion repeated the process, varying the elemental infusion – a 'Fire' bolt that scorched Kael's armor, an 'Ice' bolt that left a frosty residue. He was mastering the control, the seamless transition between elements, refining his Mana projection. His Blood Imprint Manifestation pulsed subtly, helping him refine his control over the Abyssal/Void Mana, subtly influencing the elemental manifestations. He was learning to blend the two, to mask the true nature of his power.
By the time the sun climbed high, painting the academy grounds in a warm, golden light, Rudelion felt genuinely invigorated. His Mana reserves had been thoroughly tested and replenished, his physical body pushed to a comfortable limit, and his tactical understanding of this world's Mana combat deepened significantly. He had burned through a considerable amount of Mana, but his Basic Mana Recovery and Mana Conduit Optimization were efficiently replenishing his reserves.
"That was… incredible, Rudelion!" Kael exclaimed, his chest heaving, his Berserker aura slowly fading. He was visibly exhausted, a fine sheen of sweat soaking his tunic, but his eyes shone with a triumphant satisfaction. "I learned more in that hour than in a month of regular drills! Your Mana analysis is insane!"
Rudelion allowed a small, tired smile. "The pleasure was mine, Kael. Your raw power provides an excellent medium. We should do this again. Regularly."
"Absolutely!" Kael grinned, his Mana signature radiating genuine enthusiasm. "Any time you want! You're making me stronger!"
Rudelion nodded, his eyes scanning the now bustling academy grounds. Other students were starting to filter into the training fields, ready for their own, less strenuous, sessions. His own body felt light, invigorated, far from the bone-deep weariness he'd known after a true Murim brawl.
'This doesn't even making me Sweat.' He thought, the phrase taking on a new layer of meaning. He wasn't just not sweating from exertion. He wasn't sweating the challenges this world presented. He was systematically dismantling them, one Mana-infused punch and one tactical manipulation at a time. The game was indeed in full swing, and he, the supposed final boss, was already writing his own rules.