Nepheli stepped back, staring at me in disbelief.
"How?"
"Well… I did say I'm not very good at this…" I muttered awkwardly.
The girl raised her brows in a plaintive gesture.
"I… I didn't believe it… you're not even a beginner… you're… ohh…"
She was simply stunned by my lack of skill in martial arts. Not that I had mastery—far from it. I lacked even the most basic abilities. I wasn't at the level of a soldier, merely a peasant militiaman with a weapon who hadn't completed even the initial training. Yet, I already had some combat experience, which made her shock even greater.
"Fine." She frowned stubbornly. "Take the sword and follow my lead!"
And so, training began.
"Your body is well-built, but your grip lacks firmness. You need to engrain this into your muscles! When you strike, it shouldn't even cross your mind—you must train your body to move instinctively."
Time stretched in an odd, almost surreal way.
Taking my first steps on this path, I felt a strange sense of dissatisfaction, aware of how low my combat skills were. To become even an average warrior, let alone a great one, would take a lot of time. But what is time to someone who can manipulate it?
It's also worth noting that after all of Melina's enhancements, my ability to control time had become far stronger.
So…
"Hmm… where did all this sand come from?" Nepheli wondered aloud.
Though the next time it vanished, and we began training anew.
"Oh, looks like you've got some skills," the warrior acknowledged. "I'll show you a few sword techniques, and then we'll duel."
She no longer remembered the humiliation where my training had begun. After hours of practice, I summoned pure sand from my world to reverse time. Yet, my memorized reflexes and training outcomes remained intact. I had cheated, repeating my drills in frozen time of the desert world almost to exhaustion, over and over, sometimes mixing in the ashes of battle—the remnants of the skills of warriors greater than myself, embedded in their weapons.
When using the ashes, it felt as if a master—or at least a highly skilled warrior—possessed me, just long enough to perform their signature attack. This was enough that, through repeated practice, these techniques gradually began embedding themselves in my memory. I could already replicate some simple moves on my own, infusing them with my strength and skill.
And when I grew weary of this, I'd grab books from Gideon's library and continue self-study.
Even so, I needed to vary my activities. That's when I turned to construction, building various structures in the golden desert. Later, I returned to training.
I resumed lessons with Nepheli, now at a higher level. But to progress further, I needed to exert increasingly greater effort. I wasn't aiming to become a master just yet. At this stage, it was enough that Nepheli no longer dominated me absolutely in battle. She was still the stronger warrior, but her victories were now probable, not guaranteed.
It should be noted: she wasn't some sophisticated swordswoman. Her axe fighting involved no fancy techniques—only raw, furious assault. That's what she was teaching me. Once I mastered the basics, our lessons increasingly consisted of duels. A few times, in the heat of combat, she killed me. Or I killed her. That was the essence of it. A warrior like Nepheli relied not on finesse, but on experience and primal cunning. What difference did it make how many elaborate maneuvers a swordsman knew if a barbarian could shatter them with a single strike?
"Not bad for a mage," the warrior complimented generously.
"Heh… thanks." I smirked, letting my gaze linger on her a bit hungerily. She wasn't fazed. On the contrary, she seemed to enjoy the attention, taking it as praise of her appearance.
I was about to call it a day when something strange happened.
Reality seemed to waver. Judging by Nepheli's startled movement, she felt it too. Then, near the hall's large doors, a crimson line tore through the air, like a bleeding wound in the very fabric of reality.
"An invasion," the warrior said grimly.
"What?" I didn't understand.
She glanced at me.
"Ghosts from other worlds… don't expect anything good from them."
Melina had mentioned something like this before, but I had never faced such reflections. From the tear in reality emerged a man radiating a sinister red light—a tall figure in a pointed hat, holding a staff in one hand and a terrifying scythe in the other. His lips moved, but all we heard was an ominous screech.
"Looks like he's challenging us," Nepheli observed.
Meanwhile, the battle mage bowed gracefully—a bow far more elegant than anything I could manage.
"It's an honorable duel," she frowned. "I'll accept the challenge. Chrono, don't interfere."
"Oh, as you wish," I stepped back.
I watched from the sidelines as the two of them fought seriously. The ghost began casting, but his spell was slow enough for her to close in. She deftly dodged his icy projectiles, forcing him to retreat from her axe strikes. Then Nepheli revealed she wasn't limited to martial prowess alone. With a swing of her axes, golden lightning erupted, piercing her opponent and forcing him to stagger.
The battle continued.
The mage summoned a frost fog, through which Nepheli surged like a whirlwind. Her skin paled from the cold, her clothes frosted, even her eyelashes turned white. Yet she pushed forward, and it was clear the mage struggled to retreat constantly. When he attempted a scythe strike, it became his mistake.
"Ha!"
Her axe blades cut into the ghost's body, and before he could recover, a second strike struck his side. Nepheli kept moving, tearing her opponent apart with her axes and even kicking him. Wounded, the mage tried to rise, but she slammed another bolt of lightning, engulfing him in a crimson mist.
"Heh… a fine fight," she breathed, exhausted.
Perhaps inspired by her, I too felt eager to test my strength. I reversed time.
"Looks like he's challenging us."
"Then… I'll accept," I said, preempting her.
"Alright…" Nepheli frowned.
She clearly disliked standing aside, merely observing. I mirrored the mage's bow, causing his lips to curl into a predatory smile. Now he attacked me, while Nepheli stepped back to the wall.
I didn't use time control or magic—only my weapon—wanting to test my own strength. His frost attacks were slow enough for me to dodge. I closed in, and then…
A wave of cold hit me.
Bone-chilling cold. I wondered how Nepheli had passed through it so easily. The mage took advantage of my hesitation, striking with his scythe.
Returning to the start, I tried again—this time avoiding the frost cloud. The mage was agile, his scythe swings distracting me. Even without focusing, he outclassed me, despite the exotic weapon.
Not surprisingly, he defeated me again.
The third time, I accidentally pierced him with my sword. Still, I decided to rewind time. I'd grown accustomed to pain and death, seeing this duel as invaluable combat experience. I fought the ghost repeatedly, studying his style. He was skilled enough to counter my tricks.
Yet…
Repeated time manipulation exhausted me. I didn't want to pause training in the desert world. Eventually, when fatigue hit, I let Nepheli handle the invasion again.
"Looks like he's challenging us," she repeated.
"Hmm, you seem eager," I smiled. "Since I've whetted your appetite, I suppose I should yield."
"Hmm." She gave me a sidelong glance.
No, I needed to try again. She misunderstood my words, thinking I was cowardly—something she despised.
"Do you want to fight him?" I asked calmly. "If you're tired, I'll handle it."
"I'll accept the challenge!" she declared, indignantly projecting her energy: who's tired here?
"Ha, then I yield. But the next ghost is mine."
"Fine." She smiled approvingly.
The first fight repeated, though slight changes shifted the outcome. Nepheli was strong, but her opponent wasn't so weak that her victory was inevitable. The mage cast faster this time; she failed to dodge a frost projectile, which embedded ice shards in her stomach.
Even so, she continued. Crossing the frost fog now took far more effort. Her hands trembled, ice crusted her skin, and sudden movements cracked it into sharp shards, slowing her enough for the mage's scythe attack to land.
Nepheli barely retreated; the blade grazed her shoulder. She glanced at me, warning me not to intervene. The mage laughed, continuing his assault, launching frost projectiles. But Nepheli dodged, striking him with lightning, then threw her axe to disrupt his cast. She stood before him, raising her second weapon.
The mage, recovering, struck the ground with his staff. Blood erupted, spinning into crimson spikes surrounding him. Nepheli ran into the attack, pierced through chest and abdomen.
"Argh…"
She would have fallen dead if I hadn't caught her just above the floor. The mage retreated, bowing mockingly, disappearing back to his world. Of course, I wouldn't let Nepheli die. Before reversing time, I tested a new idea.
Golden sand enveloped her body, and her wounds vanished before our eyes. She frowned and rose.
"What?" she whispered, confused. "I'm not dead?"
Not a new idea, but I'd only experimented with objects before. This time, I focused on the warrior herself. My experience in magic let me distinguish her life and spirit, acting on one without touching the other. Restoring Nepheli while keeping her memories intact could one day help me achieve even greater control over time.
"This is my magic," I explained calmly. "It can heal many wounds. And yes, you're alive."
"You saved me," she breathed.
"Well… maybe it's a bit unfair. The loser in a deadly duel should die. But… I didn't want such a wonderful warrior to leave me."
"I… I'm grateful…" she said, rising. "I owe you, Chrono."
She was utterly serious. I thought, if I demanded her body in repayment, Nepheli would agree to be my plaything. But claiming intimacy as repayment for saving a life felt wrong. This debt wasn't a mere obligation—it was an invisible thread linking us through mutual respect. I didn't want to sever it.
Once I mastered rewinding time while isolating myself from its effects, I could explore that… combining pleasure and keeping our bond.
"Alright, I'll keep that in mind."
After everything, a little rest wouldn't hurt. I headed to my beloved hugger to bask in her arms. Fia welcomed me with open arms.
"Chrono… you always share your great light with me," she whispered tenderly.
"Well… I think you deserve it." I returned the hug, holding her tighter.
"Heh… I'm just hugging you."
She rested her head on my shoulder.
"But… could you listen to me today?" There was uncertainty in her voice.
"Of course. I'm always ready to hear you out."
"That's very kind of you."
Her hand stroked my back. In her embrace, I felt Fia sigh sensually. She truly appreciated my words. It seemed she wanted to ask something but hesitated, unsure if she had the right.
"I… you know, I was a companion to the dead."
"Um, who?"
"It's my destiny. Heroes gave me their strength and unyielding will to live, just as you now share your power with me, my Chrono."
I understood: I wasn't the only one she hugged.
"Then I had to give all that will to a deceased noble, to grant him a second chance."
Intriguing.
"But I failed. I couldn't fulfill my purpose, even giving all my power. Yet grace called me back to this world."
"I see… so you gather life force to try resurrecting the dead?"
"That's my role," she sighed.
And since she continues, there's someone she wants to revive, even if last time failed.
"So… you wanted to ask something?"
The conversation cooled my desires. Embracing her brought calm and serenity.
"Yes… I think… somewhere in Stormveil's dungeons lies the secret… why I couldn't fulfill my purpose… but I cannot go there alone… I don't have the strength to challenge Godric's men or the demigod himself…"
"Hmm…"
"One mage agreed to help me and has already gone, but I fear he might fail…"
"Another 'brave soul' you pampered?" I muttered.
"Ohh…" Fia sighed, hugging me even more tenderly.
"Are you jealous? Sorry… I didn't mean to upset you, my Chrono. Giving blessings to fallen souls in exchange for their warmth is my destiny."
"Alright, alright. So, what do you want from me?"
"I heard… you plan to go to Stormveil…" Fia noted.
Indeed. Ignoring my time tricks, I had only recently told Nepheli about passing through Godric's castle. And Fia already knew. She wasn't as simple as she seemed—always giving a mysterious impression. Yet it was remarkable she learned so quickly.
"Forgive me… I just overheard your conversation with Nepheli Lux," she explained, seeing my surprise.
"So, you want me to explore the Stormveil dungeons?"
"Yes… but… what I seek may lie even deeper."
"Alright, I'll see what I can do," I sighed.
The request left an uneasy feeling, yet I felt somewhat obliged to Fia for what I had done for her—even if in a time that no longer exists. Like with Irina, though unlike her, the event with the blind girl was real and irreversible.
If you're okay, I'll rest here a bit before heading to Stormveil," I told her.
"Of course."
Fia stroked my hair. I settled comfortably on her bed, using her soft hips as a pillow. In this serene state, I drifted into a deep, real sleep—not transported to the desert world. I had advanced enough in control to manage this.
Ah, waking up felt wonderful.
While I slept, Fia cautiously lay beside me, hugging me again. It seemed uncomfortable for her to hold my head on her hips—but perhaps more interesting this way. Rejuvenated, I prepared to head to the castle. I had given my word.
But first, a brief visit to the desert world.
Relatively brief—or perhaps not so brief. Time is fickle. Controlling it, it's hard to tell if you've spent much or little. Days passed in the sand world, yet no extra second was lost.
My task was serious.
"Finally… at last!" I proclaimed, tossing off ragged rags.
The coarse pants and shirt, along with woven slippers, were left behind. Instead, a dark mantle embroidered with gold draped my shoulders. Comfortable pants of the same mysterious fabric, boots of hardened sand lined with soft cloth inside.
I decided to change my wardrobe—tired of wandering like a peasant.
The new outfit radiated authority and wealth, transforming my appearance. It also represented a new way of shaping the sands of time. As I had previously forged solid materials from sand, now I aimed to create cloth. Earlier, I couldn't have accomplished such a transformation. But my understanding of the sands had evolved. I no longer saw them as mere sand—they were a form of mysterious temporal energy, almost divine. Material formation posed no difficulty.
Yet I still sensed that sand was its natural state. The further the alteration from this form, the more complex and concentration-demanding it became.
In any case, I now had clothing far more durable than ordinary fabric. Embedded golden-glass patterns gave the mantle magical conductivity. I could now cast without a staff, using my cloak as a tool. This sparked ideas for defensive magic—a protective energy shield. Previously, I had consulted Selene, and the closest analogue was the Carian Retribution: an active, hard-to-use shield rather than passive defense.
There was still much to consider.