Shortly afterwards, the two of them were sprawled on the ground, while Sir Lionel continued to lecture them after their defeat.
"I told you, you thrust, not swipe. Thrust first, then swipe upwards. Only then can you create an opening at the enemy's side. After that, use speed and cut quickly at that side. From there, it's a cut to the throat. Simple as that..."
A recap, indeed...
Technically, the sparring session with Carla lasted all of half a minute. However, she proved as stubborn as August had been.
Eight trials, and she was out, lying in a corner of the hall with bruises all over her arms and face. There was a bit of disfigurement at the moment.
As for Young, well, after five attempts with enough speed to have actually won, he still lost every single time, miserably. He didn't even last ten seconds. It wasn't so much a spar as it was a one-sided beating — and the punisher was none other than the master.
Currently, Young was... well, asleep, perhaps? His face was covered in red, his left eye swollen, with a purple bruise underneath.
August, still unable to recover from that heavy blow, was halfway slumped against the wall, breathing heavily as he endured the lingering pain. Though it had subsided somewhat, his body remained paralysed.
Sir Lionel sighed, then walked out of the room, leaving the three of them behind without a second glance. He made his way straight to Madame Li to ask for a cup of tea, but, unfortunately, she had run out. Most of it had been consumed by him every morning, as it always was.
Instead, he opted for a cigarette and lighter, then stepped away from the other Exalted to a quiet corner where he wouldn't disturb anyone's nostrils with the unpleasant smell. Additionally, the cold wouldn't extinguish the flame of his cigarette.
He quickly lit it, took a long drag, then another, and another. Just like that, about nine puffs later, the light was almost gone. He squeezed the worn-out cigarette between his fingers, placed it into his pocket with the intent of throwing it away later. It was their duty to keep the fortress clean, and as an example, he never failed to uphold that responsibility.
"What a rip-off, this landscape... damn Antarctica. A man can't even spell a warm life here," he muttered to himself as he made his way towards another room on the right-hand side of the large lobby.
"...All that brief smoking sure is making me crave some chocolate cookies, but first, I'll need some soda water; it's the best after a smoke."
***
Three days later.
The three of them had finally healed enough to move, though faint bruises still lingered. August stood outside the castle, allowing the cold to embrace him, as always, his gaze fixed on the white expanse before him.
He looked down at his hands and noticed how rough they had become over the years due to relentless training. With a quiet sigh, he placed his hand on the ice-laced ground and drew a figure of himself using the tip of his sword.
Suddenly, he raised his hand in a swift motion and caught a snowball just before it could hit his face. Of course, it was Young being childish again, despite still sporting a purple bruise beneath his left eye.
Carla, at the moment, was helping Madame Li clean. It was currently 9 p.m.
Young sighed in disappointment as he walked past August and entered the castle.
August then threw the snowball far, testing how much his throwing abilities had improved. It went quite a distance, about twenty metres, before it landed with a soft thud in the snow.
His hands didn't ache, so no pain lingered after the throw.
'There are really a lot of mysterious benefits from this soul core. I wish I'd received it sooner... Speaking of which, I haven't checked out the second feature in the system.'
Just then, the system popped up in front of him:
[Stats]
> [Abilities and Skills]
> [Forge Interface]
> [Arsenal]
> [Body Stats: +50% Efficiency]
> [System Log]
He wondered which to check first, but ultimately chose to start from the beginning.
[Abilities and Skills]
[Active Skills]:
Render Burst Lv.1 – Releases a shockwave of raw Render energy. [Cost: 30 RP]
Shadow Bind Lv.1 – Locks a corrupted soul in place for 2 seconds. [Echo Skill]
Soul Scan – Detects nearby corrupted soul signatures. [Passive]
[Unique Ability]:
Echo Devour (Locked) – Consume and integrate soul echoes into the core.
For a moment, he was somewhat confused. It was astonishing to already have skills and abilities, though the latter was locked. He couldn't understand the meaning of "LV.1" beside each skill; he wondered if it was some sort of coded organisation system used by the system.
Well, the lack of a proper childhood didn't help with understanding this. Still, he was more than ready to try out the skills, though he wasn't keen on spending the required RP on Render Burst. This was a trial, after all, so why waste it?
He stood up from the short stairway where he'd been sitting, but paused when he realised that none of these skills were attack-oriented. So, in essence, they were useless for now, even the locked one, if it were open. Regardless, he decided to try [Soul Scan].
As soon as he activated the skill, a purple light flashed in his eyes, and everything around him was bathed in a new hue. He also felt a subtle connection to his surroundings, as though he could sense the scenery in a deeper way.
He looked around but saw no immediate difference in the landscape. After a moment, he deactivated the skill and sat back down.
'I guess most of these skills aren't very useful at the moment. Still, I'm a bit puzzled about what LV.1 even means. Is it a code or something? Well, that's for later. Moving on…' he thought mentally.
He began reviewing each option available to him, but they only brought disappointment...
> [Forge Interface]
(Locked)
> [Arsenal]
(Empty)
> [Body Stats: +50% Efficiency]
> [System Log]
System awakened: Day 7
Corrupted Soul absorbed: –
Core stabilised through Cold Synthesisation.
Warning: Core possesses unknown evolutionary potential.
"Well then… is that a warning or a blessing?"
For the first time in years, he experienced a strange sense of joy—though tainted. It wasn't forced or feigned. It was genuine… and unsettling.
He waited patiently for the system screen to fade, having yet to discover how to dismiss it manually. After a short pause, he rose from where he sat and stepped into the night.
By the time he returned, it was already past midnight. He entered the castle in silence, moving purposefully towards the training hall.
From the other wing, the sound of loud snores echoed—unmistakably Young. He'd always insisted on sleeping before 11 p.m., convinced that staying up any later would bring misfortune.
Everyone in this place harboured one or two strange beliefs. August himself was convinced that holding a mobile phone could somehow attract every corrupted soul in existence to a single location—a theory he remained oddly invested in. Carla, on the other hand, believed that sleeping like an Egyptian mummy would grant her incremental strength each day.
In truth, these odd convictions were just a way of coping—filling the void left by a lifetime of hardship. Anyone who hadn't lived through their reality wouldn't understand.
Upon entering the training hall, August reached for a wooden katana and adopted his stance without hesitation. He inhaled the sharp cold air and exhaled with focus. The breeze gently shifted his hair, helping him centre his thoughts—enough to visualise an opponent before him.
The silhouette that came to mind was unmistakable.
His father.
"…I will surpass you. And I'll show you exactly what it means to rule the world… just as you once envisioned."