Chapter 133 - 132: You Got Stronger Now?!

Chapter 133: Chapter 132: You Got Stronger Now?! Training Grounds - Afternoon Dust exploded beneath their boots as the two figures collided, Lumberling’s spear clashing against Aurelya’s rapier with a resonant clang that echoed through the courtyard. Aurelya blinked in brief surprise. ’He parried that?’ For a Quasi-Knight, that alone was unexpected. But that was where the surprise ended. Aurelya, a True Knight and a mage besides, was stronger, faster, sharper. She drove forward, her blade whistling through the air in arcs of lethal precision. Lumberling didn’t meet her head-on. He didn’t have to. Instead, he flowed, ducking, weaving, dancing just outside her reach. "Are you going to keep dodging me forever?" she called out with a smirk. "Come on then, sweety. Don’t be shy." Lumberling let out a low laugh, sidestepping a sweeping arc. "Didn’t think you were the clingy type." Her brows twitched. Amusement bled into irritation. ’He’s mocking me while running?’ Still, she couldn’t deny it, his evasions weren’t cowardly. They were calculated. Sharp. Fluid. Intentional. Her next slash came faster, enhanced with a flicker of mana. He barely avoided it, a strand of his hair sliced free. Then she stopped smiling. Her aura flared. Aurelya went serious. In an instant, the playful elegance was gone, replaced by pressure, cold and suffocating. Mana rippled through the ground, and the watching goblins instinctively stepped back. Her blade came alive with faint golden glyphs, and her stance shifted into something unmistakably lethal. Lumberling inhaled slowly. And then he moved. His spear twisted in a rising crescent, not to strike, but to breathe, to begin. His Spearheart Doctrine ignited, his footwork shifting into patterns drawn from monsters and warriors alike. A gnoll’s lunging pounce. A wolf’s low circling gait. A spider’s abrupt jerk and twitch. Then a knight’s clean thrust. Then a goblin’s unorthodox spin. Aurelya frowned, just for a moment. ’What’s this?’ The moment of hesitation cost her. The spear kissed her shoulder, shallow, but real. She stepped back with narrowed eyes. Lumberling pressed forward. His style kept changing, never the same, never predictable. One moment savage, the next refined, as if a dozen creatures had taken turns teaching him how to kill. He struck again, this time with a twin-feint combo that mimicked a kobold’s fake retreat, followed by a wolf’s lunging bite. Another hit. Aurelya growled. She responded with a flourish of steel, and their blades clashed again. Her surprise was gone. Her instincts returned. She began to analyze. Study. Adapt. He’s not unbeatable. Just unreadable. For now. Their duel became a blur of motion, an evolving tide. Lumberling kept switching styles, combining, blending, twisting, but Aurelya was learning, faster than he hoped. Watching from the side, Vaenyra stood with folded arms. Her emerald eyes tracked every motion. Her heartbeat quickened as she watched Lumberling maneuver with grace, courage, and madness. He’s a storm wrapped in skin... She wanted to fight him too. Despite knowing she stood on a far higher stage than him. .... Back in the center, the balance tipped. Aurelya began to turn the tide. She intercepted a spider-like feint. Countered a gnollish charge. Blocked a knight’s spiral thrust. One by one, she dismantled each form until she met every attack with practiced ease. And then. Clatter. Lumberling suddenly dropped his spear. The sudden silence was deafening. Aurelya halted, blade raised in confusion. "Oh? That’s it? "Giving up already?" she asked with a smirk. Her tone was mocking, but her stance was cautious. She didn’t understand his play. From the sidelines, Vaenyra’s lips parted in disappointment. The thrill that had built up inside her wavered. ’Don’t tell me it ends like this...’ But Lumberling didn’t look defeated. Aurelya’s eyes narrowed. "What are you doing?" ..... The sun dipped low, casting long shadows across the training field. Dust and wind danced together as Lumberling turned to Aurelya, grinning, palms out, fingers curling in a taunt. "Come on then," he said with a smirk. Aurelya’s golden eyes narrowed. That grin. That infuriating smugness. She dashed forward without hesitation, her rapier humming with faint aura. But the moment their weapons should’ve clashed, there was nothing. Lumberling wasn’t wielding a weapon at all. Instead, he ducked under her thrust with fluid grace, his footwork suddenly lighter, refined in an alien rhythm. His hands moved not like a knight, but like a martial artist, fluid, deliberate, lethal. He parried with his palms, redirected force with his forearms, and countered with strikes that didn’t rely on steel, but sheer precision. Aurelya stumbled back, thrown off by the unorthodox style. ’What is this?’ she thought. ’This isn’t Knight training. And it’s not beast-fighting either.’ She felt it before she could name it. A foreign energy rippled from his body, neither mana nor aura. It felt... grounded. Lumberling’s every breath resonated with power. His veins pulsed faintly with a deep, golden warmth, Qi. A cultivator’s energy. For a brief moment, even the wind paused. Then he leapt back, his body twisting in the air before landing beside the twin axes he’d set aside earlier. He seized them both and dashed in again, this time combining Knightly aggression with the internal fortification of Qi. The impact of his first strike sent a pulse through the earth. Aurelya blocked the axe blow just in time, her blade ringing like a bell from the force. Her eyes widened. He switched again. But this is different. It’s familiar. A Knight’s stance, yes, but not spearmanship. Twin axes. Measured power. Precision in brutality. Then it clicked. ’Dual Wielding. Another Knight Skill.’ Her thoughts sharpened. ’He has more than one combat skill’ Yet despite the shock, she adjusted quickly. True Knights weren’t easily overwhelmed. Her counterattack forced him back again. He held his ground for a moment, then abruptly released both axes mid-motion, letting them clatter to the dirt. Aurelya blinked. "What are you..." He lunged past her, dropping low to scoop up the warhammer on the ground. Then he sprinted, shoulders low, hammer behind, and leapt high into the air. ’Hammer Shock!’ Aurelya braced herself as she raised her rapier. Then, the hammer came down like a meteor. BOOM. The shockwave blasted outward, dust and gravel tearing across the field. The air vibrated. A lesser Knight would’ve been flattened. Aurelya skidded back a few meters, her rapier trembling in her grip. She winced. Her arm stung. The skill had barely fazed her, but it had hurt. And worse, it had annoyed her. "Now you’ve done it," she muttered. But Lumberling didn’t press the attack. He dropped the hammer without ceremony and reached for a nearby sword and shield. Her pulse jumped. ’No. He wouldn’t.’ But he did. He charged again, this time with a completely new stance, shield angled defensively, sword tucked tight near his ribs, feet grounded and mobile. Her eyes narrowed. ’Three weapon styles. Three skills. No. Maybe four skills?’ "How many damn weapons do you use?" she snapped. He didn’t answer. His shield slammed into hers, the edge of his sword slicing upward in a maneuver that barely missed her shoulder. She faltered, just for a breath, and he struck. A clean hit to her side. Not deep, but enough to sting. She gritted her teeth, stepped back, and blew out a breath. Enough warm-up. ’Let’s see how he handles this.’ Mana surged into her limbs as she activated her skill. ’Phantom Flurry.’ She vanished, reappearing a blink later behind him. Her rapier lashed out, blurring into five consecutive strikes aimed at joints, ribs, and underarm gaps. Lumberling pivoted, just barely lifting his shield. Clang. Clang. Two blocked. Three landed. He was sent flying. The impact cracked the dirt. A plume of dust erupted as his body skidded and rolled. His armor groaned from the pressure. One of his shoulder plates popped free, tumbling beside him. Aurelya froze, panic briefly overtaking her fury. Had she overdone it? She took a step forward. "Hey..." But the dust parted. Lumberling stood, shoulders squared, breathing ragged. Blood dripped from his mouth. Yet he smiled. Aurelya’s heart skipped. No Knight at his level should be standing after that. Phantom Flurry wasn’t just a skill, it was a finishing move. It should’ve dropped him, or at the very least, left him barely conscious. But he took it head-on, and he’s still standing. ’What the hell is he made of?’ She didn’t know it, but Lumberling’s body had been honed through brutal nights of Ironblood Tempering. His bones had splintered and healed. His nerves had screamed and adapted. He raised his spear, his main weapon, gripping it like a man returning home. Then he dashed forward again, this time Qi and Knight’s aura intertwining around him in chaotic spirals. His next thrust glowed with the mark of Spearheart Doctrine. They clashed. Again. And again. The field blurred around them. Steel met steel. Sparks danced with each strike. The sounds of their battle echoed through the valley like drums of war. Until finally. Lumberling halted. He raised both hands in the air, chest heaving. "It’s my loss." Aurelya, opposite him, stood with trembling knees. Her braid had loosened, strands of gold sticking to sweat-slick skin. Her rapier hung limp at her side. She blinked at him, stunned. He smiled. "If I kept going, I’d probably drop unconscious in the next thirty seconds." She let out a laugh, breathless. "You damn lunatic." And though she’d never admit it aloud, her heart beat a little faster. Not from exhaustion. But from thrill. ... The dust slowly settled. Aurelya glanced up, sweat glistening down her cheek. For a second, she just stared at him, confused, exasperated... and reluctantly impressed. "You’re insane," she muttered, rising to her feet. Cheers erupted from the sidelines. Gobo2 jumped up and down even with his injured body. Grokk roared, slamming his axes together in celebration. The kobolds barked and thumped their chests. They had seen it. Not a victory, but a revelation. Their leader had faced a True Knight and made her breathe hard. Vaenyra stood apart, arms crossed, lips pursed. Her long blue hair shimmered in the morning sun as her emerald eyes locked onto Lumberling. She said nothing, but her posture was taut, controlled. Inside, her blood surged. ’I want to fight him.’ The thought came unbidden, hot, demanding, but she crushed it down. Beside her, Thessalia narrowed her gaze. The green-haired elf’s eyes, sharp and calculating, glinted with something deeper than interest. Her scholar’s mind was spinning. For the first time in years, she felt genuinely curious. On the battlefield, Lumberling let out a quiet, shaky breath. He winced, wiping a smear of blood from his lip. Then he smiled, a crooked, tired thing. Dry and strained. But beneath that smile... Something ignited. A rush of heat surged through his limbs, not from exertion or injury, but evolution. Power welled up from deep inside his marrow, spreading like wildfire. (Beginner Spearheart Doctrine has reached Level 9. Power +430) (You have stepped on the Quasi-Knight Stage) And then... Boom. A wave of aura exploded from his heart, sending a ripple through his body. Vaenyra snapped to attention. Thessalia’s breath caught. Aurelya’s eyes widened in disbelief. "What the hell..." Aurelya muttered under her breath, eyes narrowing. "Did you seriously just get stronger, right now?!" She stared at him, heart racing, as the aura around him settled into a new, terrifying calm. His presence was heavier now, the aftershock of his breakthrough still humming through his bones.