Three days had passed since Asher’s initial arrival at the First Training Ground. In that brief span, much of the training had begun to feel mundane to him, as he navigated its challenges with increasing ease.
But Harold remained undeterred. Regardless of Asher’s rapid progress, he offered no praise, no pause for recognition, as though such improvement was merely the baseline of expectation.
Instead, he escalated the intensity of the training to match Asher’s growth, and Asher embraced every moment of it.
During movement training, Asher chose to challenge himself by closing his eyes. Given that his Omni Perception remained active even without visual input, he saw it as an opportunity to refine its use.
Within a six-meter radius, everything fell clearly within his perception; beyond that, a veil of complete darkness prevailed. It was during this exercise that Asher came to a realization: while Omni Perception heightened his awareness and granted a seamless 360-degree view of his surroundings, it did not equate to true sight, particularly not when it came to perceiving the invisible.
But that didn’t matter to Asher. He pushed his senses to their very limits. If he couldn’t perceive the invisible directly, then he would learn to read the subtle shifts in the air, the breeze parting as something moved through it.
With that thought, Asher no longer wished to see the arrows flying toward him.
No.
He wanted to trace their trajectories using only the wind and sound.
At first, he was struck repeatedly. But gradually, he adapted. His body began to respond instinctively, his ears attuned to the slightest whistle, and his skin detected even the faintest disturbances in the air.
From clumsy beginnings, he progressed, steadily, fluidly, until, within thirty minutes, his movements became flawless.
The trainees, along with Elowen, who had believed they had already seen the extent of his abilities, were once again left speechless.
During the Astra control training, Asher demonstrated his ability to walk on water before Virek. Impressed, Virek informed him that water walking happened to be the next phase of their training.
The other three gifted trainees had also mastered the basic technique. However, Virek raised the difficulty, transforming the calm surface into surging waves, destabilizing the water beneath their feet and making balance far more difficult.
But Asher adapted effortlessly. He had already anticipated such a scenario and trained for it by himself before Virek even suggested it.
As for wall climbing, Asher was tasked with scaling unstable, uneven surfaces, walls that were anything but smooth. The purpose was clear: to sharpen his control and force his body to adapt reflexively, without the need for conscious correction.
Within just three days, Asher had shown remarkable progress across every aspect of his training.
Over the past three days, Asher had grown somewhat closer to the trainees. He never demanded formal greetings, he simply gave a subtle nod in their direction whenever he arrived.
To their surprise, Asher turned out to be far more easygoing than they had expected. He neither looked down on anyone nor spoke with arrogance or coldness. Whenever he had a moment to spare, he would casually offer a piece of advice to a nearby trainee.
That said, he wasn’t going out of his way to help others, Asher wasn’t nearly charitable enough to offer free guidance without reason.
Within the weapon training grounds, Asher moved with effortless ease. His footwork was flawless, each step flowing seamlessly into the next, and his swings and thrusts naturally adjusted in rhythm with his shifting stance.
Unlike his first day at the First Training Ground, when he simply relied on movements from his prior training, this time, Asher observed the movements of Clinton and the others, analyzing their forms and integrating their nuances into his own style.
The result was undeniable: his progress had been nothing short of remarkable.
Hearing footsteps behind him, Asher turned to see the instructor, Clinton, approaching with a smile on his face. He had witnessed many trainees over the years, but never had he seen such rapid and profound improvement.
To train someone this talented, someone capable of achieving the unimaginable, felt like an honor.
"You’ve been training alone for the past three days," Clinton said, his tone light but firm. "It’s time for a spar."
Asher’s eyes swept across the field. The top three trainees, and several others, were noticeably absent. He assumed they had been sent to the monster subjugation training; many of them had already spent over a month in the First training ground.
’In a month.’ Asher reminded himself.
Though he looked forward to the challenge, he couldn’t ignore the unease lingering beneath his anticipation. His first kill might make him nauseous, he might even vomit.
In his previous life, he had been just an ordinary person, someone who hadn’t so much as killed a chicken. A few cockroaches and ants, perhaps, but even toddlers did that.
"Will I be sparring with you?" Asher asked.
Clinton shook his head and replied, "No. You’ll be sparring with another trainee. Truthfully, with your level of talent, you should be facing the best we have, but he’s currently away at the monster subjugation training."
Asher gave a small nod in understanding.
Clinton then turned toward a boy sparring at the edge of the field.
"Kale, over here."
Hearing his name, Kale immediately halted mid-motion. His gaze turned to Clinton, and without hesitation, he responded, "Yes, Instructor!" before jogging over.
Clinton turned to Asher and spoke. "This is Kale. Among those who’ve been here for less than a month, he’s currently the most outstanding. In two days, he’ll begin his monster subjugation training."
Asher gave a slight nod, his gaze shifting to the boy beside him, a fellow seventeen year old with striking red hair and sharp black eyes.
"This is just a spar, a weapon-focused training session," Clinton began, his voice clear and brisk. "No abilities of any kind are to be used. That includes your rapier skill, Tenth Sun. You’ll fight using only your rapier, no Astra, no enhancements."
He paused briefly, letting the instruction sink in.
"Only superficial injuries are permitted. No critical strikes, and absolutely no aiming for vital points."
Clinton was thorough, knowing this would be Asher’s first official spar. He wanted to ensure all boundaries were set clearly.
With that, he stepped aside, allowing Asher and Kale to take their positions, standing face-to-face on the sparring field.
"It’s nice to meet you, Tenth Sun," Kale said with a polite smile, choosing his words carefully.
"Nice to meet you too," Asher replied, his tone relaxed yet clear. "I hope you’re not planning to hold back just because of my family name. This is a training ground, not a political gathering. And don’t worry, win or lose, I won’t make your life difficult."
He spoke not just to reassure, but to dispel any assumptions Kale might hold. Asher knew all too well that many hesitated around the ’Sun’ of the Wargrave family, fearful of offending prestige.
Kale’s smile lingered, though a brief frown flickered across his face. Then he nodded.
"Very well. I won’t hold back then, Tenth Sun."
With that, he dropped into a battle stance, twin daggers steady in his hands, measured, prepared.
Asher, in contrast, assumed no stance. He simply inhaled and exhaled, drawing his focus inward, sharpening his senses.
This would be his first true spar since reincarnation.
"Begin." came Clinton’s voice from the side.