(The next day, Soron’s Castle, Leo’s POV)
Sweat rolled down Leo’s forehead in tiny beads as he soaked up the pressure of Soron’s aura without cracking, his breathing slow and controlled even as his lungs burned and his body screamed in protest.
’The hell is this pressure?’
He wondered, as the training arena around him began to feel smaller than it should have, not because of its size, but because of who stood across from him, as Leo became acutely aware of every sensation inside his own body, the tension in his shoulders, the strain in his calves, the faint tremor in his wrists as he subtly adjusted his grip.
*Gulp*
Soron stood opposite him, relaxed to the point of being infuriating.
His posture was loose, his shoulders at ease, while a single wooden dagger rested lightly in his hand as if it were an afterthought rather than a weapon, his expression calm, focused, and faintly amused, like a man watching a child struggle rather than facing a genuine opponent.
’Damn it. It doesn’t even look like he’s trying,’ Leo thought, the realization pressing heavier than the aura itself as he involuntarily took a step back.
The pressure radiating from Soron was steady and unyielding.
And although the Great God did not seem to be using even a fraction of his true strength, Leo already felt himself nearing his limits.
Despite having an aura shield activated, which mitigated some of the pressure bearing down on him, he still found himself forced to consciously regulate his mana circulation just to remain upright, as though the air itself had decided he needed permission to stand.
*Clench*
Leo tightened his grip on the twin steel blades in his hands, the hilts slick with sweat, as the strain rippled from his eyes down through his forearms, as if every muscle in his body was being drained simply to maintain eye contact.
His opponent today was a God.
A genuine one.
A being with command over four dimensions.
And he was trying to stand against him.
Soron’s invitation had come without warning earlier that morning, a short, almost casual request to spar in the castle’s arena, as if this were a normal occurrence rather than something that should have shaken Leo to his core.
’I’m really doing this,’ Leo had thought then.
However, now, standing beneath that quiet, suffocating pressure, he finally understood why chances like this were never meant to be common, as every second spent under Soron’s gaze peeled away his confidence and replaced it with something far more honest.
*Shuffle*
Soron shifted slightly, the wooden dagger turning lazily between his fingers, as Leo reacted instantly to that movement, his spine stiffening as his senses snapped tight, instinct surging ahead of thought as it warned him that this calm was deceptive.
’He hasn’t moved yet,’ Leo realized.
’And I’m already ready to wet myself.’
The thought unsettled him, as Soron’s eyes traced over him, measuring rather than judging, as it was right here that he realized that this spar had never been about victory or defeat.
Because if Soron really wanted to beat him, he would already have lost his life a thousand times over.
*Sigh*
Leo exhaled slowly, forcing the tremor out of his breath as he raised his blades a fraction higher, sweat dripping from his jaw onto the stone below.
This was not a fight meant to be won.
This was a lesson.
And whatever Soron intended to teach him was likely something that would take him a very long time to truly understand on his own, which was why this opportunity was golden.
"Do you see where you lack, Shadow Dragon?"
Soron asked at that moment, his voice calm and composed yet carrying a weight that pressed just as heavily as his aura, as Leo felt the question settle over him more painfully than any physical blow could have.
Leo clenched his jaw, the pressure in the arena coiling tighter around him as he stared at the god’s feet in suppression.
"I guess everywhere," Leo replied honestly, the words leaving his mouth without hesitation. "There isn’t a single place where I don’t fall short."
For a brief moment, Soron chuckled, the sound soft and unforced, as though Leo’s answer amused him rather than disappointed him, yet he shook his head slowly, eyes still locked onto Leo with quiet focus.
"Well yes," Soron said as his faint smile lingered, "but that is the answer of a man overwhelmed, not the answer of a man trying to survive."
He took a single step forward, not threatening and not hurried, yet the pressure in the arena shifted instantly, forcing Leo’s muscles to tighten on instinct.
"Think more specifically," Soron continued, his tone patient rather than instructive. "If tomorrow you face an opponent stronger than yourself, someone faster, stronger, more experienced, what is the very first thing you must mitigate in order to make that fight even remotely fair?"
Leo frowned, brows drawing together as the question echoed through his mind.
’Strength?’
No. That gap could not be closed in a single fight.
’Speed?’
That too felt insufficient, something that could be exploited but not erased.
He drew a slow breath, grounding himself as he tried to dissect the problem the way Soron intended, piece by piece, yet every answer he reached felt incomplete, as though he were circling something fundamental without ever touching it.
’Durability?’
But durability only delayed the inevitable.
’Technique?’
Technique mattered, but technique alone could not bridge gaps this wide.
Leo’s thoughts tangled, frustration creeping in as he realized that every solution he considered required time, refinement, or power he did not currently possess, making them useless in a battle that would happen tomorrow.
His grip tightened unconsciously around his blades as he searched for something, anything, that could turn an unwinnable fight into one he could endure.
Nothing came.
The silence stretched.
Soron did not interrupt him.
Did not guide him.
Did not rescue him.
He simply waited.
Leo finally exhaled, shoulders lowering slightly as he tilted his head and looked back at Soron, confusion clear in his eyes despite his attempt to hide it.
"I don’t know..." he admitted silently, the realization cutting deeper than any blow could have.
And as he met Soron’s steady gaze, Leo understood that this moment of not knowing was exactly where the lesson was meant to begin.