Leylin followed as in the story… He used the A.I. Chip to analyze his own memories and retrieved the Knight's Breathing Technique from his family, improving it. From then on, every day he meditated and trained together with George.
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Two steel swords clashed, producing a crisp sound.
"Leylin! You're still no match for me, give up!"
George said with a laugh as he gripped the hilt of his sword with both hands.
"We're not done yet!"
Leylin shouted as his legs shifted into a strange footwork, launching another attack.
"Hah!"
George swung the longsword in his hands, bringing with it a sinister whisper of wind.
The crossed blade in Leylin's hand swept forward, blocking George's strike.
"Good! Your blocking stance isn't bad!"
George praised loudly.
"Careful! My next strike will be aimed at your left leg!"
Leylin braced himself.
"Watch me!"
George swung his two-handed sword, forming a beautiful yet deadly arc toward Leylin's right leg.
Leylin stepped back and blocked the heavy sword mid-air with his cross blade.
"You definitely said it was going for my left leg—you didn't keep your word!"
"Haha… that's called tactics! It's to test your agility. My father always told me that if someone doesn't know how to scheme, one day he'll definitely be schemed against and thrown to his death by others! I just want to be the one who uses tricks, not the target of them!"
George laughed as he pulled back his massive sword.
"Enough! Enough! You're getting better and better! In just a few more days, I won't be able to beat you anymore!"
Intrigued, he scratched his head and added:
"Leylin! My sword technique was passed down by a Great Knight. I've put in so much effort, training with blood and sweat, that my teacher even said my swordsmanship surpasses that of an average Knight! And yet you, who can fight me to a draw, how could you have been beaten up by Ourin?"
"These sword techniques were taught to me by my father when I was younger. Unfortunately, I forgot them, and now I'm just trying to practice and remember them again!"
Leylin clenched his fists, his face turning red.
"Once I gain enough strength, I'll definitely seek my revenge, break Ourin's legs, and reclaim what's rightfully mine!"
He looked like a hot-blooded young man, full of determination after a setback.
"My dear Leylin, I believe in you. You'll definitely fulfill your desire!"
George patted Leylin on the shoulder.
And with another look of pity, he added:
"As you are now, your strength should already be enough to seek revenge. Besides, if he wasn't the one who robbed you, then it was probably someone from your carriage."
Leylin fell silent. He knew that was true, but it still made more sense that Ourin had taken the ring. Most likely, Ourin had used the excuse of defending Bessita as a cover—not only had he almost killed Leylin, but he had also robbed him.
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POV MC
The full moon rose solitary in the sky, spreading its silver light across the endless dunes of the desert. The wind blew cold, dragging sand along with it, creating a constant whisper that seemed to match my breathing. I sat atop a small rise of sand, legs crossed, back straight, eyes closed, letting my body align with the natural flow of the night.
The silence was broken only by the occasional system notifications, echoing in my mind like metallic chimes:
["Your Agility has increased by 0.01 points."]
...
["Your Agility has increased by 0.01 points."]
...
["Your Agility has increased by 0.01 points."]
I exhaled deeply, and in that same instant, a black smoke slipped from my throat, coiling into the night air as if it had a will of its own. These were my impurities, the rotten remnants my body rejected. But unlike any ordinary human, who would exude foul sweat and oil from their pores, I — belonging to the Giga Chad race — expelled my imperfections as smoke. It was as if my body burned all weakness into invisible ash.
Slowly, I opened my eyes, and the moon's cold glow reflected within my irises. The world seemed different. The air felt lighter, my body more fluid, as if every movement came naturally, without resistance. Rising from my meditative position, the sand yielded softly beneath my feet.
At a glance, I looked toward the sleeping caravan. The carriages were arranged in a circle, dark silhouettes against the horizon. Only the academy's servants, cloaked in black robes, kept watch. They neither spoke nor moved more than necessary; they looked like statues forgotten by time.
— Status. — I thought.
And the translucent window appeared before my eyes:
[STATUS]
Name: Raven Wood
Title: Potential Princess Devourer
Age: 15
Sex: Giga Chad
Race: Giga Chad
[Attributes]
Strength: 1.4
Agility: 1.9
Vitality: 1.9
[Skills]
["Light Fist Martial Art (Level 39)"] (3900/160)
["Superior Breathing Technique: Thunder Style (Level 15)"] (1500/230)
["Armament Haki (Level 2)"] (200/190)
[Wealth]
Magic Crystals: 10
I couldn't help but smile. The difference was staggering. Before, every step felt like chains were pulling me down, as if my body dragged invisible weights. Now, I was light. Light as paper.
"I'm pretty sure I've lost several kilos…" I thought, rolling my shoulder and feeling my body's new flexibility.
But I also recognized the difficulty. Light Fist and Breathing were straightforward: repetition, discipline, and the body responded with practice. But Armament Haki… that was something else. It wasn't about moving muscles or controlling breath. It was pure will. Intention. It wasn't about kicking — but kicking to shatter. It wasn't about blocking — but about denying the entire world with the force of my existence.
It was instinctive, brutal, almost spiritual. And that made it the hardest of all.
But this was only the beginning.
Eventually, I wouldn't just use Haki alongside magic… I would fuse them. One day, I would walk naked through lava without burning, face deadly spells head-on and emerge without a scratch.
Of course… there would always be exceptions. There always are.
While reflecting on my own evolution, a distant notification rang like a muffled bell in my mind.
["Detection: Leylin Farlier and George are sparring nearby."]
The system's vision showed me fragments: the two youths clashing under the moonlight, their swords trading swift blows full of youthful vigor. But the training ended quickly, both exhausted, their bodies drenched in sweat, their faces set in determination.
Raven smirked faintly. Exactly as he had foreseen.
Very soon, Leylin would seek revenge against Ourin. It was inevitable. That grudge would not lie dormant for long. And of course… it was only logical that Leylin had already deduced that Ourin was the one who stole his ring. When the vengeance came and Ourin was massacred — Raven could almost hear the screams in his mind — the truth would emerge.
Leylin would realize Ourin never had the ring. And then? He would turn against everyone in the carriage, one by one, like a serpent testing its surroundings before striking.
First, the weakest. Then, interrogating the survivors. But in the end, all would be innocent. Only one suspect would remain.
I
Raven drew a deep breath, the smile never leaving his lips.
"Yes… me."
It was inevitable. But it didn't worry him. Leylin's venomous, calculating personality would prevent him from choosing a direct confrontation. His A.I. Chip didn't work on me, and that made any fight unpredictable. For Leylin, fighting without control was the same as diving into dark waters without knowing what lurked beneath. He wouldn't do it. He wasn't a fool.
Unless he was forced to.
— And I have no intention of forcing him. — I murmured.
The fewer conflicts I had to face, the better. And the more treasures I could claim from the shadows, the more advantageous my journey would be.
My eyes gleamed under the moonlight, carrying a silent promise.
"For Bessita… soon, very soon, will be mine."
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