The chamber was spacious but orderly, with weapons displayed along the walls and arranged on sturdy racks.
Swords, spears, bows, and other ancient weapons filled the room, each crafted with remarkable precision and quality.
Even at a glance, she could tell they were not ordinary training weapons.
Every piece looked carefully made, polished, and well maintained.
“Well, we don’t use these things in the first place.
They’re very old, but theoretically, I can use all of them to some extent…”
She paused, then looked at Eryndor.
“Wait.
Did you mean with you?
No way I’m doing that.
Your people will try to kill me.”
Eryndor crossed his arms over his chest, his green eyes fixed on her.
“With me?” He leaned against the wall.
“You think too highly of yourself.”
‘So …
She fears my people, not me.
Interesting.’
He gestured toward the weapons lining the walls.
“You’ll spar with one of my instructors.
Someone who won’t hold back like Kael did.”
The door behind her opened.
An elven woman entered, her pointed ears visible beneath her short-cropped black hair.
She wore leather training armor, and a curved blade hung at her hip.
Faint scars crossed her arms.
“This is Sera.
She trains some of my personal guard.”
Eryndor moved to the window frame, where he could see the entire room.
“Show her what you showed Kael.”
Sera’s eyes swept over her, unimpressed.
“The human who knocked out Kael?”
She drew her practice sword—a metal blade with no sharp edge, heavier than the wooden one Kael had used.
“Let’s see if that was luck.”
She didn’t wait for her to prepare.
The blade came down in a swift arc toward her shoulder.
She didn’t even have time to look at the weapons and choose one.
Sera had entered the room and attacked without warning.
All the softness in the girl’s expression vanished, replaced by something frightening.
“So, you’re not an honorable fighter.
I don’t like people who think too highly of themselves.”
She waited until Sera was close.
Then she moved.
with a light movement to the side, she dodged the incoming blade without wasting a single motion.
Her hand struck Sera’s grip hard enough to make her lose the sword.
Before Sera could react, the girl caught the weapon with a slight flip and brought it sharply against her shoulder.
She grabbed Sera by the hair and pulled her closer, driving her knee into her face.
Blood began to drip from Sera’s nose.
When Sera tried to move, the girl struck her againand again and again, not giving her the chance to recover.
Then came a hard blow to her stomach, far stronger than the one she had used against Kael.
The girl’s attitude toward Sera had completely changed because of the elf’s behavior.
Unlike with Kael, she made no effort to be gentle.
Even after Sera was down and unconscious, she moved toward her and struck her again with her foot.
A moment later, Sera regained consciousness on the ground, coughing as she tried to move.
The girl stepped over her and pressed her foot against the elf’s neck.
“Your rush is very weak.
But you need to learn humility first before you learn how to spar.”
Sera gasped beneath her foot, her fingers clawing at her ankle.
Blood dripped from her broken nose onto the stone floor.
“Enough.”
Eryndor’s voice cut through the room.
He moved away from the window, his bare feet silent as he approached.
His hand closed around her wrist—not pulling, just holding her in place.
‘She fights like someone who’s killed before.
Not sparring.
Killing.’
“Step back.”
His green eyes met hers, something unreadable flickering in them.
Not anger.
Not approval.
Just cold assessment.
Sera coughed, rolling onto her side as she tried to catch her breath.
She spat blood onto the floor.
“She—she fights dirty…”
“I fight dirty?!” the girl snapped.
Her foot pressed harder against Sera’s neck as she shifted her weight.
“You’re the one who tried to kill me without me having any weapon !!!
Without warning!!!”
Eryndor’s hand shot out, gripping her wrist more firmly before she could apply more pressure.
His fingers dug into her skin, stopping her rather than pulling her away.
‘She’ll kill Sera if I don’t intervene.
No hesitation.
No mercy.’
His other hand moved to her shoulder as his eyes remained locked on hers, cold and measuring.
“Sera attacked without warning because that’s how real combat works.
Enemies don’t announce themselves.”
Sera gasped beneath her foot, her face reddening as she struggled for breath.
“But you’re right about one thing.”
His grip on her wrist tightened.
“She underestimated you.”
He pulled her wrist back with controlled force, enough to make her step away from Sera’s neck.
The woman immediately rolled away, coughing and clutching her throat.
“Leave,” Eryndor ordered.
“Get to the healers.”
Sera pushed herself toward the door, blood still dripping from her nose.
Eryndor’s attention returned to her.
“Now we talk.”
“Oh?
Pfft.
So enemies don’t warn?”
She laughed at their twisted logic.
“But I figured it was dirty?
How was my fight dirty?”
The training room’s windows rattled with the force of her laughter.
Sunlight streaming through them caught the blood droplets scattered across the stone floor.
‘She laughs.
After nearly killing Sera.’
Eryndor’s jaw tightened.
His hand remained on her shoulder, his fingers pressing against the fabric.
“Dirty fighting means attacking after your opponent is already down.
Continuing when they can no longer defend themselves.”
He gestured toward the door where Sera had crawled out.
“You broke her nose, knocked her unconscious, then tried to crush her throat.”
His amber eyes narrowed.
“In a spar, you stop when they fall.
You didn’t.”
‘She doesn’t understand the difference between training and killing.’
“Where you come from, do you finish every opponent like that?”