Chapter 142: Chapter 142:First Training 2
Mireille’s eyes narrowed, her professional skepticism kicking in. "That’s advanced tech, far beyond standard academy issue. Let’s see if it works as advertised." Her gaze swept from the device on his wrist to his whole figure, as if sizing him up for a fight.
"Now," she said, her expression unreadable. "Dodge."
Without another word, she flicked her wrist. A small, smooth stone she’d palmed from a nearby planter shot through the air, a dark blur aimed directly at his head.
Zaeryn reacted on pure instinct, throwing himself sideways. The stone whistled past his ear, missing by an inch. He landed awkwardly, catching himself on one hand.
"Too slow," Mireille stated. "You saw it, then you reacted. By the time you see a Vorthak’s strike, you’re already dead. Your power should react for you. Your powers should not be a tool you pick up; they should be a part of you. Stop thinking. Stop trying to command it. Just... let it respond."
Zaeryn nodded, getting in his fighting stance as he anticipated another one of her attacks.
She picked up another stone. "Again."
This time, Zaeryn didn’t brace himself. He let his body relax, his mind going quiet, focusing only on her hand. She threw it, faster this time.
He saw it move. However he didn’t overthink things this time.
One moment he was standing there, the next he was two feet to the left, the stone smacking into the wall behind where he’d just been. The movement was a short, impossible blur. He felt a faint, electric thrum under his skin, but no dizziness, no surge of overwhelming power.
Just a perfect, instinctive reaction.
For the first time, a flicker of genuine surprise, and something close to approval, cracked Mireille’s icy composure.
"Better," she said, the single word carrying more weight than a hundred praises. She unclipped the sheathed training blade from her belt. It was a dull, weighted alloy, designed for practice, not for cutting. "Dodging rocks is one thing. Dodging a real attack... me is another."
Zaeryn’s grin widened, his blood racing with excitement. "Think you can keep up?"
"Let’s find out," Mireille replied, and this time, her smirk was undeniable. It was sharp, predatory, and promised pain.
Arya leaned forward in her chair, sensing the shift in the air. This was no longer just a drill.
Mireille didn’t just walk; she exploded into motion. She was a silver-haired blur, her speed a product of pure, honed physical prowess that made Zaeryn’s nascent ability feel like a clumsy imitation. The training blade was a whisper of steel, aimed not at his chest, but at the precise point on his shoulder that would lock his arm.
Zaeryn stumbled back, his raw strength the only thing allowing him to parry the relentless assault. She wasn’t just attacking; she was herding him, driving him back toward the glowing edge of the hydro-therapy pool.
Her strikes were a fluid, inescapable storm, each one forcing a desperate block, a clumsy dodge. He felt like a child fighting a master.
Her strength was terrifying, and yet she was holding back by a lot.
"You’re still thinking!" she taunted, her voice a low counterpoint to the clang of his forearm against her blade. She spun, the flat of the blade smacking his ribs with enough force to steal his breath. "You’re trying to win. Stop trying to win and start trying to survive!"
Frustration and pain flared in Zaeryn’s chest. He swung a wild punch, which she moved away from with contemptuous ease. Her leg swept out, kicking his feet from under him. He hit the patio deck hard, the impact rattling his teeth.
Before he could recover, she was on him, the weighted tip of her blade pressing against his throat. He could feel the cold, hard pressure, a promise of the real death it could so easily deliver. Her face was inches from his, her icy blue eyes boring into him.
"Is this all you have?" she whispered, her voice laced with genuine disappointment. "All that power, and you fight like a cornered animal. Pathetic."
Something inside Zaeryn snapped.
It wasn’t a thought. It wasn’t a plan. It was pure, primal instinct forged in the face of humiliation. He didn’t try to push her off; he let go completely. He let the power take over.
The world dissolved into a blur of kinetic energy.
Mireille felt it a split-second before it happened a surge of raw, untamed Vitae that was utterly unlike the controlled burst of speed he’d used before. He vanished from under her blade.
He was behind her.
She spun, blade already moving to intercept, but he wasn’t just fast anymore. A crude, unstable blade of shimmering golden light, a construct of pure Vitae Weaving, had formed in his hand. It wasn’t elegant or solid; it flickered and sparked, a jagged shard of raw power.
He lunged.
Mireille’s eyes widened. She brought her training blade up to block, but his attack was clumsy, unpredictable. The golden construct shattered against her weapon in a blinding flash, but in the same motion, his other hand, now infused with the dregs of that same energy, slammed into her side.
CRACK!
It wasn’t just a thud this time. The impact sent a shockwave of force through her. Although it wasn’t enough to hurt someone like her, she sure as hell feit it. He was strong.
Unseen by them, on a balcony on the second floor, a figure had been watching. Kayla stood in the shadows, wrapped in a simple silk robe, her arms crossed. She had come to watch him fail, to see Mireille put him in his place.
But what she saw was something else entirely. She saw him adapt. She saw that impossible, instinctive burst of speed, followed by the spontaneous creation of a Vitae construct.
Vitae Weaving. He had access to two abilities.
The cold contempt in her eyes was now joined by a storm of conflicting emotions, annoyance, grudging respect, and a deep, unsettling curiosity. The anomaly she despised wasn’t just a glitch; he was a goddamn revolution.
Without a word, she melted back into the shadows of the house, leaving the two warriors on the patio below.
Mireille straightened up, rubbing the spot on her side where his fist had connected. A slow, dangerous smile finally spread across her face, transforming her features from icy duty to predatory delight. It was the first time Zaeryn had seen her truly smile. "You hit harder than I thought you were capable of."
Zaeryn gave her a nod. Honestly, even he didn’t know he could hit that hard, or move that fast with so much control. Guess it was her taunts that had got him to stop thinking and just act.
"Vitae Weaving," she breathed, her voice laced with a newfound respect and a chilling intensity. "You combined it with Kinetic Acceleration. Instinctively."
Arya was on her feet in an instant, her usual warmth warring with pure shock as she rushed to his side. "That was incredible," she said, her voice a hushed whisper of awe. "One moment you were down, and the next..."
Zaeryn was still panting, staring at his own hands as if they belonged to someone else. The phantom ache of the golden blade was there, a ghost of power in his palms. But the crushing exhaustion, the dizzying weakness he expected after such a surge... it was gone. He felt... normal. Clear. The realization hit him harder than any of Mireille’s strikes.
"Thanks," he replied to Arya, his mind reeling.
’System,’ he thought, a surge of adrenaline still coursing through him as he pushed himself to a sitting position. ’Status.’
The familiar interface materialized in his vision, glowing with a cascade of new notifications.
[SYSTEM LOG]
[COMBAT STRESS THRESHOLD REACHED: BREAKTHROUGH ACHIEVED]
[Ability Rank Up: Kinetic Acceleration (Nascent -> Rank F)]
[Ability Rank Up: Vitae Weaving (Nascent -> Rank F)]
His eyes locked onto the final, most crucial entry.
[NEW SKILL UNLOCKED: Combat Instincts (Passive) - Your body’s ability to react to threats without conscious thought has been permanently enhanced.]
A short, sharp laugh escaped him. Instinct. The very thing Mireille had been drilling into him. It wasn’t something he had learned; it was something his body had just unlocked. A fundamental upgrade to his operating system.
[NOTE: Spontaneous ability combination under duress has accelerated core integration.]
[Core Integration successful. Moving from Nascent to Rank F signifies a fundamental shift from chaotic energy discharge to controlled Vitae efficiency. Your body has learned to channel power without systemic backlash. You can now wield your Rank F abilities without risk of overexertion.]
Zaeryn stared at the screen, a slow, triumphant grin spreading across his face. It wasn’t just a simple level-up. His entire operating system had been upgraded. The debilitating weakness that had plagued him, the fear of passing out every time he pushed himself, was gone, at least for these abilities.
He was no longer just borrowing power; he was learning to own it.
He looked up at Mireille, who was still watching him with that terrifyingly beautiful smile, and his gaze was no longer that of a student.
It was a challenge. "Alright, ready for round two?" He asked, "You can even use all your powers now." He taunted.
"That’s a bad idea." Arya interjected, her voice sharp with genuine alarm as she stepped closer to him. "Mireille’s full powers, or just a significant portion of it, is not meant for fighting a single person. It’s for leveling city blocks. You have no idea what you’re asking for."
Mireille didn’t dismiss him like she normally would. If anything, she smirked albeit very faintly, a chilling glint entering her icy blue eyes. "She’s right, you know," she said, her voice a low, dangerous purr. "There’s a reason my abilities are restricted in urban zones. They’re... messy."
Zaeryn’s confidence, fresh from his breakthrough, was unshakeable. "Scared I’ll get another lucky shot in?"
Mireille let out a short scoff, a sound that was more unsettling than any threat. She didn’t move toward him. She simply stood there, perfectly still.
"Control, Zaeryn," she whispered, the words carrying an impossible weight. "You just learned how to spark. Let me show you what a wildfire feels like."
Then she stopped holding back.
The air grew heavy. An immense, invisible pressure descended on the patio, so intense that Zaeryn’s ears popped and the decking beneath his feet groaned. The Vitae Harmonizer on his wrist flared with a crimson warning light, struggling to compensate for the sheer ambient force.
Zaeryn’s eyes widened, not in fear, but in fascination. This wasn’t an attack, it was a demonstration. The weight pressed down on him, yes, but it was controlled, measured. He could feel it now, the raw density of her Vitae saturating the air itself, like standing in an ocean of pure power. It wasn’t just energy; it had mass, presence, almost physicality.
His grin returned, sharper now. "Holy shit," he breathed.
Mireille wasn’t even looking at him. Her gaze was fixed on the pool. The surface of the water began to churn violently, responding to the sheer pressure of the Vitae-saturated air pressing down on it. Steam erupted in thick clouds as the concentrated energy caused the molecules to vibrate faster and faster, superheating from pure energetic friction.
The air shimmered with heat distortion around her, like standing too close to a furnace.
Then, as smoothly as it began, she reined it back in. The pressure lifted. The air returned to normal. The water in the pool continued to boil and roil for several seconds before slowly settling, the steam dissipating into the morning air.
She didn’t move, didn’t gesture. She had simply stopped suppressing her presence, then resumed. Her expression remained a mask of cool professionalism, though her eyes still held that dangerous glint.
"That wasn’t an ability, Zaeryn. That was just me, the passive output of a Tier-2 Warlady who stopped holding back." She paused, her expression unreadable. "At higher tiers, your Vitae becomes so dense, so concentrated, that its mere presence warps the physical world. You don’t wield it. You are it."
She let that sink in before adding, almost casually, "Of course, not all Tier-2s can project their aura with this kind of intensity. Most would barely make your ears pop."
Zaeryn’s grin didn’t fade. If anything, it widened. That’s what I’m working toward. It now made Mireille even more attractive to him.
"Well,.now I want a tier 2 Vitae signature" He remarked.
"Unfortunately for you, you don’t get to choose what vitae tier you are born with." She turned and strode back toward the house. "Training is over for today. Find me and Arya by the cruiser once you’re ready to leave for the academy."