Chapter 56. Morning Spar

Chapter 56: 56. Morning Spar

Kael stood alone in the quiet bedroom for a moment longer and opened the system interface.

CURRENT TOTAL LP: 530

The morning blowjob with Seraphine had only given him four hundred points.

The number was noticeably lower than the rewards from the night before.

’So the points drop if the action becomes repetitive,’ he thought.

The system replied at once.

[Correct. Host must continue discovering new experiences and taboos to maintain high point gains.]

Kael closed the window without further comment.

He pulled on a clean shirt and pants, then took the sheathed sword from the corner of the room and strapped it at his waist.

The weight of the blade felt more natural now after the Weapon Mastery skill had settled into his body.

Every shift of the hilt against his hip already carried a quiet confidence that had not been there the previous day.

He left the bedroom and walked downstairs.

Seraphine and Eira were already seated at the long wooden table in the dining area.

Morning light came through the windows and rested across the simple plates and cups.

Both girls looked up when they heard his footsteps.

Seraphine’s expression was the usual sharp mask, though a faint flush still lingered at the base of her neck.

Eira sat quietly beside her, small hands resting on the table, black eyes watching him with the same timid attention as earlier.

Kael stopped at the bottom of the stairs and met Seraphine’s gaze.

"Do you want to spar now, Sera, or after breakfast?"

Seraphine stood up without hesitation.

"Let’s spar first. I want to see if you actually improved after our... session."

The last word came out a fraction too sharp.

She caught herself at once and smoothed her tone, glancing sideways at Eira as if the near-slip had never happened.

Inside, a quieter thought moved beneath the practiced arrogance.

’If he really did get stronger from last night, I need to know.’

Kael only nodded.

He turned and walked toward the front door, the sheathed sword resting against his hip.

Seraphine followed a few steps behind him. Eira rose more slowly and trailed after them both, quiet and uncertain.

They stepped out onto the open porch and the small cleared training ground in front of the house.

Morning air moved across the packed dirt.

Kael stopped in the center of the space and rested one hand on the hilt of his sword.

Eira stood near the edge of the porch, eyes wide.

She had never seen her stepdad prepare to fight her older sister before.

The sight of the two of them facing each other in the early light left her standing still, small hands clasped in front of her short pants.

When Kael drew the sword and the morning sun caught the edge of the blade, a quiet spark of admiration rose in her chest.

For a moment he did not look like the ordinary man who made breakfast.

He looked like someone who belonged with a weapon in his hand.

Seraphine took her stance with casual ease.

Her weight rested lightly on both feet, arms loose at her sides.

She left several clear openings in her guard and did not even bother drawing a dagger.

"Attack whenever you’re ready," she said, voice cool and unbothered. "I’ll wait."

Kael drew the Mulberry sword from its sheath.

The blade cleared the leather with a soft metallic whisper.

For a brief second a faint pinkish glow ran along the edge, then faded.

The moment the light vanished, a woman’s voice pressed against his mind like cold fingers.

The world around the porch disappeared.

Kael found himself standing in a dark mental space that felt older than any dungeon he had entered.

At the center sat a throne built entirely of black thorns, each spike glistening as if freshly wet.

A woman occupied it, her long hair falling forward in a heavy curtain that completely hid her face.

Sharp thorns pierced her arms, shoulders, and sides, leaving thin trails of dark blood that never seemed to dry.

She looked less like a living person and more like a painting someone had made of pure misery and left unfinished.

Her voice reached him low and distorted, carrying a venomous edge that scraped across the inside of his skull.

"You don’t deserve it."

She lashed out at once.

A wave of crushing mental pressure slammed toward him, thick with hatred, grief, and something older than either.

The force tried to dig into his thoughts and rewrite them.

Kael felt the attack hit, yet it failed to take hold.

Something in his mind held firm and pushed the force aside.

The skill he brought helped him warding it off. At the same time he noticed another quiet change.

’Isolde’s influence also seems to have worn off.’

He stared at the figure on the thorn throne.

The torn gown she wore hung in ragged strips, stained and ruined in many places.

A sudden shift of her head made the heavy curtain of hair slide to one side.

For a single clear moment Kael saw her face.

She was crying.

Tears cut clean paths down pale cheeks while her expression remained twisted with silent pain.

The eyes that met his for that fraction of a second held no recognition, only an endless, private sorrow that did not belong to the present world.

The vision shattered.

Kael’s boots were once again planted on the packed dirt of the front training ground.

Morning light returned.

Seraphine still stood opposite him in the same open stance, waiting. Eira watched from the porch, unaware that anything had happened.

The Mulberry sword felt heavier in his hand than before.

The residual echo of the woman’s voice still lingered at the edge of his thoughts, but Kael forced it down.

Whoever she had been, whatever claim she held over the blade, it was a problem for later.

Right now Seraphine was waiting, and the spar would not wait for mysteries.

He shifted his weight.

Mana flowed downward into both feet, reinforcing muscle and bone in a thin, controlled layer.

His lead leg pivoted hard against the dirt. The rest of his body followed in a clean, explosive line as he closed the distance and brought the Mulberry sword around in a sharp, rising cut aimed at Seraphine’s open guard.

Seraphine’s instincts flared the moment the Mulberry blade moved.

Something about the faint residual glow and the weight behind the swing felt wrong, older and heavier than a normal weapon.

She drew the dagger in a single fluid motion and met the strike with the flat of the blade.

Clang.

The impact rang sharp across the training ground.

She turned the sword aside with ease, yet the force that traveled up her arm was noticeably stronger than anything Kael had produced before.

Her crimson eyes narrowed a fraction.

She thought.

’His mana density is higher than before. Well, he did reach D-ranker yesterday.’

Kael did not pause.

He pivoted on the ball of his rear foot, mana still reinforcing his legs, and brought the sword around in a simple horizontal cut aimed at her midsection.

Seraphine stepped back half a pace and let the blade pass.

The next attack followed immediately, a descending diagonal that she deflected with the dagger.

Sparks jumped where steel met steel.

He kept the attacks deliberately basic: straight cuts, rising diagonals, short thrusts.

Nothing flashy.

The skills simply made every ordinary motion cleaner and heavier.

Mana flowed denser through his arms and core than it had the day before, giving each strike a solid, grounded weight.

Seraphine continued to evade more than she blocked.

Her footwork remained light and precise, silver-white hair shifting with every turn.

When she did meet the blade, the daggers redirected it with minimal effort. Still, the intervals between her casual deflections grew shorter. Kael’s rhythm was relentless.

Each time she created space he closed it again, sword moving in steady, unbroken sequences that forced her to stay honest.

Eira watched from the porch in complete silence, hands clasped tightly in front of her.

Every clean step Kael took, every controlled turn of the blade, held her attention.

The quiet admiration she had felt earlier only deepened.

For the first time she could imagine her stepdad standing on a real battlefield instead of carrying packs behind other adventurers.

Then Seraphine changed.

The cool, almost bored posture vanished.

The dagger flashed forward in a sudden aggressive burst. Kael barely raised the Mulberry sword in time.

Thin lines of pain opened across his left forearm, then his shoulder, then the side of his ribs as the blades kissed him with surgical precision.

None of the cuts were deep, but each one landed cleanly and forced him backward across the dirt.

He retreated three full steps, sword held in a tighter guard.

Seraphine advanced without pause, silver hair streaming, crimson eyes sharp and focused.

The difference in combat experience was still absolute.

’He’s better,’ she admitted silently while pressing the attack.

’The improvement is real enough. But he’s still weak to beat me in a fight.’

Kael dropped his stance and swung low, aiming a hard cut at her leading leg.

Seraphine’s eyes flicked downward. She had already read the attack. The dagger moved to intercept the blade before it could reach her.

In that same instant Kael triggered Quick Step.

The world blurred.

His body vanished from her front and reappeared half a pace to her side and slightly behind, Mulberry sword already rising toward the open line of her back.

’Got her.’