The Grand Hall of Camelot trembled.

Not from any external force or magical disturbance, but from the collective shock rippling through the assembled Knights of the Round Table as Sir Kay's fist slammed down with enough force to crack the enchanted wood.

*BOOM!*

The scouting report skidded across the table's surface, its edges smoking from the residual mana Kay had channeled into his strike.

His weathered face carried an expression that mixed disbelief with barely-contained alarm, the kind of look that came from witnessing something that violated every tactical principle he'd learned across decades of warfare.

"A single group," he began, his voice cutting through the sudden silence like a blade, "cleared three dungeons in one day."

The murmurs started immediately, knights exchanging incredulous glances.

"Impossible," Sir Bedivere muttered, though his tone carried more uncertainty than conviction.

"Three dungeons would require at least twelve hours," Sir Gawain added with obvious skepticism. "Even with optimal party composition and perfect execution."

"And that's assuming C-tier dungeons," Sir Tristan noted analytically. "Anything higher would be—"

"Including an SR-tier Draion."

Kay's addition silenced the hall completely.

The temperature seemed to drop several degrees as the implication crashed down on everyone present.

SR-tier.

Not A-tier with competent coordination.

Not B-tier with proper equipment.

SR-tier. The kind of threat that could destroy cities in a matter of a single hour.

"You're saying..." Sir Percival's voice trailed off, his mind refusing to process the logical conclusion.

"With only three members."

The final detail made several knights actually stand from their seats, hands instinctively moving toward weapons as if the threat might materialize in the hall itself.

"That's not just skill," Sir Lancelot stated flatly, his tactical mind already analyzing the impossible mathematics.

His hand drifted to his sword hilt unconsciously, a tell he rarely displayed even in the midst of actual combat.

"That's true extermination. They weren't hunting for survival or profit. They were harvesting."

"..."

The distinction carried weight that made the other knights pause.

Hunting implied caution, strategy, careful engagement with appropriate risk assessment.

Harvesting meant treating deadly threats like crops to be collected.

No fear. No hesitation. Just efficient violence applied with overwhelming superiority.

"Three dungeons," Sir Kay continued, pulling out additional reports from his pack. "The first was C-tier. Cleared in twenty minutes. Guards at the entrance confirmed multiple witnesses who described the leader as moving 'like a demon,' quote unquote."

He laid the parchment down, already pulling the next one.

"Second was B-tier. 43 minutes. Adventurers inside reported systematic dismantling of everything that moved. No wasted movement. No mercy. Pure efficiency."

Another report joined the first.

"Third was the A-tier. An 1 hour and 17 minutes from entry to exit, and that's not including the anomalous Draion... By the time they emerged..."

Kay's eyes narrowed visibly.

"The surviving adventurers who'd fled from the Red Draion described watching someone tear through it like it was made of paper. Transformation magic. Draconic scales. Raw power that matched the beast itself."

"Draconic transformation?" Sir Galahad's holy aura flickered with concern. "That kind of magic requires either bloodline heritage or forbidden rituals. Neither explanation is comforting."

"And the leader?" Arthur Pendragon's voice cut through the discussion like divine judgment, his patterned blue eyes fixed on Kay with laser focus.

The King of Heroes had remained silent throughout the report, but his stillness carried more weight than any dramatic reaction.

Those calm eyes that seemed to see through deception and perceive truth itself demanded answers.

"Human male," Kay replied immediately, consulting his notes. "Mid-twenties appearance. Dark hair. Enhanced physical capabilities well beyond normal human limits. Accompanied by two companions—one identified as a dragon-type based on scale patterns and tail, another described as a spatial mage with nervous disposition."

He paused, then added the detail that had made him slam the table in the first place.

"And according to witnesses, he smiled when warned about the Inquisition's incoming crusade. Called the timing 'perfect.'"

"..."

Complete silence fell over the Round Table once more.

That single detail transformed the situation from merely concerning to actively dangerous.

No sane person heard about a religious militant force mobilizing and smiled.

No normal adventurer described converging catastrophic events as "perfect timing."

This was someone who saw opportunity where others saw only threats.

Someone who positioned themselves at the center of storms rather than avoiding them.

Arthur's hand moved to Excalibur's hilt, the holy sword humming in response to his agitation.

The legendary blade's divine power resonated through the hall, making the air feel charged with potential violence.

"Find them," he commanded, his voice carrying absolute authority that made even the most veteran knights straighten instinctively.

"Whoever they are, they're either our greatest ally in the coming conflicts..."

His patterned eyes narrowed dangerously, golden circuits flaring with barely-contained power.

"Or the Covenant's new weapon designed specifically to infiltrate and destabilize our defenses."

The implications hung heavy in the air.

If these mysterious individuals were aligned with the Obsidian Covenant, their demonstrated capability represented a threat that required immediate mobilization.

If they were independent actors, securing their allegiance before enemy forces did became paramount.

And if they were something else entirely...

"Sir Lancelot," Arthur continued, his tactical mind already forming strategies. "Take a reconnaissance team. Find them before anyone else does. Assess their intentions. Determine their allegiance."

"Understood."

Lancelot's response came immediately, his legendary discipline overriding any personal concerns.

"And Lancelot?" Arthur's tone shifted slightly, carrying a weight that made everyone present take notice. "Don't engage unless absolutely necessary. If they truly dismantled an SR-tier Draion with three people, direct confrontation could escalate beyond containment."

"...Understood."

The legendary knight's acknowledgment carried newfound caution, his strategic mind recognizing the wisdom in avoiding unnecessary conflict with an unknown variable of this magnitude.

"Meeting adjourned," Arthur declared, standing with fluid grace that made his ornate armor seem weightless despite its obvious defensive value.

"We have much to prepare. The Inquisition arrives within days, the Covenant moves openly against our borders, and now we have unknown actors clearing dungeons like they're recreational training grounds."

He looked around the table, meeting each knight's gaze in turn.

"Stay vigilant. Trust your instincts. And remember… strength without wisdom leads only to ruin. We must understand before we act."

***

The training arena in Waifuria gleamed under afternoon sunlight filtering through Luna's carefully maintained artificial sky.

Reinforced walls bore fresh scorch marks from earlier sessions, the stone surface cracked in patterns that spoke to repeated high-energy impacts.

The observation windows had been replaced three times this week alone, their magical reinforcement proving insufficient against the escalating intensity of Nero's comprehensive training program.

*Whoosh!*

Aurelia circled him with grace that transcended mere physical movement, her wings spread wide as golden feathers drifted down like falling stars.

Each feather carried concentrated divine energy, creating a spectacular light show that would have been beautiful if not for the lethal precision behind every motion.

Her golden eyes tracked Nero's every micro-movement with the focus of a predator that had spent millennia perfecting the art of reading opponents.

"Lord Nero," she called out, her voice carrying authority that made the very air seem to resonate with divine power. "Show me the Flowing Slice. This time, with three layers of mana reinforcement."

The command came with expectations built from centuries of training countless warriors.

Three-layer reinforcement required precise mana control, maintaining stable energy flow across multiple circuits simultaneously while executing complex physical techniques.

Most students took weeks to achieve even basic proficiency.

But Nero...

"Only three layers?"

His grin never faltered as he drew Dawnbreaker, the SR-tier shortsword singing as mana cascaded down its length in visible streams that created rainbow patterns in the afternoon light.

"Getting soft on me, teacher?"

The taunt earned something Aurelia rarely displayed. A genuine smirk that transformed her usually stoic features into something almost playful.

"Heh. Cocky as always."

"Confidence," Nero corrected with obvious amusement. "There's a difference."

"Show me then."

*WHOOOOSH!!!*

Their blades met in a thunderclap that shattered what remained of the observation windows, Aurelia's holy sword Exellius barely deflecting Nero's strike.

The divine blade gleamed with concentrated power that would have disintegrated lesser weapons on contact, its edge sharp enough to cut through dimensional barriers.

But where she expected resistance, solid impact of metal against metal with predictable force transfer...

There was only flowing water.

His sword seemed to bend around her guard in a way that violated basic physics, the blade's trajectory shifting mid-strike without losing momentum or power.

"!!!"

"Impossible," Aurelia whispered, her golden eyes widening as recognition crashed through her tactical assessment.

He'd taken her teaching about flow and adaptation, principles she'd explained using water metaphors to illustrate combat philosophy...

And somehow translated them into literal reality.

His form blurred.

*Whoosh! Slash! Thrust!*

Where she moved to parry, his blade had already shifted.

Where she positioned to counter, he'd anticipated and adjusted.

Every technique she'd drilled into him over weeks of intensive training now displayed micro-variations she'd never taught.

A flick of the wrist here that optimized the angle of attack.

A shifted foot there that improved balance during recovery.

Breath control synchronized with strike timing in ways that maximized power output while minimizing energy expenditure.

'He's not just copying my methods anymore,' Aurelia realized with growing shock. 'He's evolving them. Making them his own.'

For the first time in centuries, the First Star Valkyrie felt genuine pressure from a student.

*CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!*

Their spar escalated into something approaching real combat, both participants pushing harder with each exchange.

Nero's blade left afterimages as he chained techniques Aurelia had taught him only days ago, each one refined beyond recognition through his Omni-Mimesis ability's impossible learning speed.

She unleashed a flurry of divine strikes that would have reduced mountains to dust, seventeen precisely calculated attacks aimed at vital points with killing intent she hadn't shown in training before.

Yet Nero danced through them.

His enhanced perception read each strike's trajectory before it fully committed, his body responding with adaptations that seemed almost precognitive.

A spinning slash from Aurelia became his opening to close distance.

A thrust aimed at his heart became a parry that redirected force into a counter-attack.

Her defensive positioning created gaps he exploited before she could adjust.

'This is...'

The angel's wings flared with holy fire as she pushed harder, drawing on power she'd regained through recent intensive training.

Divine energy surged through her strikes, each blow carrying enough concentrated force to obliterate city blocks.

Yet Nero matched her.

His eyes burned with that same unnatural focus she'd witnessed during his Draion kill, all extraneous thought stripped away to leave only combat clarity.

*BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!*

The training ground's reinforced floor cracked under the force of their exchange, stone buckling as divine and enhanced-human power collided repeatedly.

'If this continues...' Aurelia's tactical mind calculated trajectories and outcomes. 'I'll need to use...'

Just as she prepared a technique she'd never shown him, a secret move passed down from the first seraphim that transcended conventional swordsmanship...

*BOOOOOOMMM!!!*

The training ground's western wall exploded inward in a shower of rubble and manic laughter that made the entire structure tremble.

"MY TURN!"

Velraeth's voice preceded her physical form, the dragon woman striding through the dust cloud like a force of nature given flesh.

Her ember eyes blazed with predatory hunger that made the temperature spike noticeably, vertical pupils dilated with barely-contained excitement.

"The night is still young, and I've got a new technique that'll turn your bones to jelly!"

*CRACK! CRACK!*

She cracked her knuckles with enough force to create visible sonic booms, the sound echoing across Waifuria like thunder.

Her tail lashed with obvious anticipation, scales gleaming in the afternoon light.

"..."

Aurelia's golden eyes narrowed imperceptibly as she watched Velraeth's entrance, her grip on Exellius tightening by a fraction.

The faces of her fallen juniors flashed through her mind. Young warriors who'd died screaming under dragon fire, their holy armor melting like wax as Velraeth carved through their ranks with that same manic laughter now echoing through the training ground.

The rage simmered beneath her controlled exterior, a cold fury that demanded retribution.

But Nero's words from their earlier conversation anchored her restraint.

*"We'll settle everything in the future. But for now, we stop it first."*

She forced her fingers to relax, releasing the killing intent that had begun gathering around her blade.

'Vengeance serves no purpose if I cannot guarantee victory,' she reminded herself with brutal honesty that came from millennia of combat experience.

Velraeth stood before her now, fully recovered and battle-ready. That raw draconic power radiating from every movement, the casual confidence of someone who'd never truly been pushed to her limits.

Could Aurelia win?

Maybe.

Probably even.

But with 100% certainty? Without risking her own life in the process?

The honest answer made her jaw clench.

No.

And risking everything on uncertain vengeance would betray not just her fallen juniors' memories, but also her duty to Lord Nero and the greater mission they'd undertaken.

'Patience,' she told herself, watching Velraeth's predatory grin. 'When the time comes, I'll be ready. But not today.'

"..."

Nero chuckled despite the destruction Velraeth had just caused, spinning Dawnbreaker before sheathing it with a practiced flourish that made the motion look almost casual.

"Battle maniac," he muttered with obvious fondness, but his muscles were already coiling in anticipation.

The brief rest during his spar with Aurelia had restored his stamina enough for another round, and Velraeth's timing meant he could transition immediately into different training without downtime.

'Perfect coordination,' he thought with satisfaction. 'They're pushing me from multiple angles without giving recovery time.'

"Hm…"

Aurelia's divine composure returned as she stepped back, wings folding with deliberate grace.

Her golden eyes met Velraeth's ember gaze for just a moment. Long enough for the dragon woman to recognize the banked fury still simmering beneath that controlled exterior.

Long enough for Velraeth's grin to sharpen with understanding and anticipation.

"Lady Velraeth," Aurelia said with perfect politeness that somehow carried an edge sharper than any blade. "Your timing is impeccable as always."

"HAHAHAHA! Of course it is! Now move aside, angel! It's my turn to beat some sense into our student!"

Aurelia watched them prepare for the next round of training, her expression carefully neutral.

But her fingers still traced Exellius's hilt with unconscious repetition, a warrior's habit when contemplating future battles.

'Soon,' she promised the memory of her fallen juniors. 'When I'm certain. When victory is guaranteed. Then we'll have our reckoning.'

For now, she had a student to train and a mission to complete.

Vengeance could wait.

Nero noticed the brief tension, the way Aurelia's wings had stiffened for just a heartbeat before relaxing.

He said nothing, but filed the observation away with all the other complex dynamics he was managing within his growing team.

'Just another normal day in Waifuria,' he thought with a mixture of exhaustion and genuine satisfaction as he prepared for whatever came next.

The thought carried weight beyond simple repetition. Managing powerful personalities with complicated histories, channeling their strength toward common goals while preventing old grudges from exploding...

This was the real challenge of leadership.

And somehow, he was making it work.

… Somehow that is.

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