Chapter 107: How to fight

Stefan's POV

Jonquil was still watching me with that calm, expectant expression, clearly taking my open-ended offer at face value.

I already knew, with absolute certainty, that I was not going to like whatever came out of her mouth next.

The woman didn't waste the opening I had given her. She cleared her throat and began;

"When I feel burned out or unsettled I train. very hard-"

I couldn't allow her to finish before cutting in.

"Very hard?" I repeated, wishing I had misheard. For Jonquil to say very hard, that meant it was very very very extra ordinary hard. She nodded, letting me know I heard her correctly.

She continued, looking at me directly;

"But not alone. Training with someone clears it better. I want you to train with me."

I groaned before I could stop myself. I already knew what "train with Jonquil" meant. Then I understood what training very hard with her meant. It meant impossible hours of sweat, aching muscles, and the particular brand of quiet disappointment she radiated every time I failed to match her standards.

"And," she continued, as if my reaction had been encouragement, "it would be better if I also taught while we trained. What do you want me to teach you?"

Teach? Teaching and train to feel better? This woman wouldn't stop surprising me.

"Nothing," I said quickly. "We can just train for a few heartbeats and call it even."

The Beast Insight flickered at the edge of my vision.

[JONQUIL — Current Mood: Displeased]

I groaned again, louder this time, and dragged a hand down my face.

"Fine," I said.

"Whatever you want. Teach me whatever will make you feel better. I'm serious. Just… try not to kill me in the process."

Jonquil nodded once, the displeased edge already fading.

"I will teach you how to fight." she announced.

I blinked in surprise. Who told this woman I wanted to become a warrior like her? "Fight? As in actual-"

She was already moving.

Before I could finish the objection she had me in the open space of the cottage, bare feet on the packed floor, and began issuing short, precise instructions. Stance. Weight distribution. How to keep my hands up. How to move without wasting steps. Every time I got something close to correct she adjusted me with firm hands and moved on. Every time I got it wrong she made me repeat it until the movement sat in my body whether I liked it or not.

I had expected an hour of light drills for the teaching at least, then we would move forward.

I was very wrong.

Time blurred into a long stretch of correction, repetition, and the steady burn of muscles that were not used to this kind of sustained work.

Jonquil was tireless. She demonstrated, reset my posture, demonstrated again, then put me through the same sequence until my breathing turned rough and my cloth clung to my back.

When she decided I had absorbed enough of the basics she shifted into light sparring - controlled, technical, and completely one-sided. I spent most of it defending, absorbing hits that were pulled just enough not to break anything, and learning exactly how large the gap between us still was.

More than once I tried to talk my way into a shorter session.

"Surely that is enough for one day." I started persuasively but she replied sharply;

"Again."

"My legs are going to stop answering me."

"Then make them answer. Reset your stance." she maintained firmly.

She was enjoying teaching me, not caring whether I was enjoying it or not.

There was no bargaining with her when she had decided on a goal. By the time she finally called a stop, the light in the cottage had changed. My arms felt like they belonged to someone else. My legs trembled if I stood still too long. Bruises were already forming along my ribs and forearms where her controlled strikes had landed again and again.

I dropped onto the furs without grace and stared at the ceiling.

Jonquil settled beside me a moment later, propped on one elbow. For the first time since I had known her, she was grinning with excitement and satisfaction- small, but unmistakable.

"You successfully taught someone something today," I said, my voice coming out so rough.

"Congratulations. Even though I feel like I got run over by a horse."

"How come you don't even seen tired?" I had to ask.

"I am tired," she admitted. "But I feel better."

I turned my head enough to look at her. "You're unbelievable. Most people rest when they're worn out. But you... You dig a deeper hole and call it recovery."

She didn't deny it. If anything, the little grin lingered longer.

The System chimed, clear and satisfied.

[MISSION COMPLETE — Do whatever Jonquil wants]

Reward: +400 EXP

A second notification followed immediately.

[EXP threshold reached]

Host has leveled up.

Current Level: 3

Progress: 0 / 5000 EXP

I noticed the jump in the requirement at once. The System had raised the bar. Of course it had.

[LEVEL 3 REWARDS]

• Beast Tongue Lv. 1 - Host may understand spoken beast language with focused concentration.

• +20 Miracle Authority

• New Shop Item Unlocked: Allure Voice (200 AP, single use, duration 20 minutes). Renders Host's voice unusually compelling.

I read through the list twice and felt a real smirk pull at my mouth. Beast Tongue alone was worth the bruises. Allure Voice sounded like the kind of tool I could abuse in very useful ways. I just needed to gather AP and use it anyhow I wanted. The extra Miracle Authority was simply welcome.

"Not bad," I muttered.

Jonquil was still lying beside me, the post-training looseness making her more talkative than usual. I turned onto my side, ignored the protest from my shoulders, and activated Body Language Analysis without making a show of it. The feedback came quietly: residual tension through her upper back and shoulders, the kind that settled in after long exertion.

"I believe you learnt a lot from what I taught you?" Jonquil kept talking away. She truly surprised. And the next thing I found myself doing wasn't something I would just do for nothing in return.

"You're stiff. Stay still, let me work my magic on you." I told her.

Then I went ahead to purchase a numbing salve from the shop, warmed it between my hands, and started working it into the tight muscles along her shoulders and the base of her neck. Jonquil went still under the contact, then gradually let her weight settle more fully into the furs. I kept the pressure steady and used the moment the way I always did when someone's guard was lower than usual.

"Where did Belladonna go with the Queen?" I asked.

Jonquil's eyes were half-closed. "They went to inspect a group of sick individuals. An entire clan was struck."

That pulled my attention fully into the conversation. "Struck by what?"

"The Silent Matriarch."

The name landed with more weight than it had the first time I heard it. I kept my hands moving, keeping the massage even, and waited. When she didn't immediately continue, I prompted her.

"I'm going to need more than the name. What exactly happened?"

"She placed sickness on them. Then she refused to lift it unless the Queen came to her in person." Jonquil explained.

"And the Queen went?"

"Yes."

"Okay. So did the people get cured after the visit?"

"No."

I paused for half a second, then resumed the slow circles across her shoulder blades. "Why not? She got the meeting she wanted, didn't she?"

"The Silent Matriarch set a condition."

"What condition?"

Jonquil shook her head slightly against the furs. "It was not told to the Flowers. Only the Queen knows the full demand. She said it was something she could not agree to. After that she tasked the General with resolving the situation by any means necessary."

I let that sit in the quiet of the cottage while my hands continued working the last of the stiffness from Jonquil's back.

An entire clan held sick as leverage.

A condition the Queen herself refused to meet.

Belladonna ordered to fix it through "any means necessary."

I exhaled slowly and kept my voice light, almost conversational.

"Any means necessary," I repeated. "That's never a comforting phrase coming from someone like your General. Do you know what she's planning?"

"No. She has not spoken of it."

"Of course she hasn't." I shifted my hands lower, working along the edge of her shoulder blade where the muscle was still tight. "An entire clan used as a bargaining chip, a Queen who won't meet the price, and a General told to solve it however she sees fit. That's the kind of situation that gets messy fast."

Jonquil made a small sound of agreement but didn't elaborate. The massage had done its work. Her breathing had evened out, and the earlier tension in her frame had eased. I withdrew my hands and sat back, already turning the new information over in my head from every useful angle.

The Silent Matriarch had stopped being an abstract problem the moment she started using entire clans as leverage. And Belladonna had just been handed the task of dealing with her.

That made the General's mood, her movements, and her next decisions a lot more relevant to my survival than I liked. Three days to change the way a woman like that looked at me suddenly felt even shorter than it had an hour ago.