The walk from the classroom to the training grounds was quiet, though Cain could still feel the lingering weight of stares from the hallways. The rumor that had started yesterday had only intensified after Maris had dozed off on his shoulder. Students whispered about her being one of the four women in his supposed harem, and the idea seemed to excite them beyond reason. Cain ignored it. Maris, as usual, was completely unbothered.

When they reached the training grounds, the wide stone courtyard greeted them. Dust rose lightly from the packed earth underfoot. Wooden dummies, scarred from countless strikes, lined one side of the field, while a rack of training weapons gleamed in the sunlight. A few students were scattered around, practicing or watching, their murmurs rising as Cain and Maris entered.

Maris's golden eyes lit up. She immediately dropped into a ready stance, her white hair catching the sunlight. Her wooden spear spun in her hands, the shaft humming softly as she moved.

"Finally," she said. "Something worth doing."

Cain grabbed two wooden swords from the rack. Today would be different. This would be the first time he tested his new skill, Demonic Swordsmanship, in a real fight. He had practiced it before, yes, but Maris was fast, unpredictable, and dangerous. He wanted to see how the skill performed against someone of her caliber. Blink was tempting, but he held it back for now. This would be an honest measure of the skill's capabilities.

"You are eager," Cain remarked, stepping into his own stance.

"You dodged everything yesterday," Maris said, spinning her spear in a tight circle before lowering it in anticipation. "That will not happen again."

Cain gave a faint smirk. "We will see."

Maris struck first.

The spear thrust with lightning speed, aimed at his midsection. Cain deflected it with one sword while the other countered with a swift strike. She twisted, spinning the spear, following up with a sweep toward his head. Cain blocked just in time, feeling the shaft scrape across his shoulder. The Demonic Swordsmanship skill flowed through him, guiding his movements. Each block and counter was precise, deliberate, almost instinctive.

He had underestimated how natural it felt.

Maris spun again, striking low then sweeping high in a wide arc. Cain sidestepped, letting the skill anticipate her attack. The swords moved as extensions of his will, calculating angles, measuring openings, and guiding his responses. He found himself grinning despite the intensity of the fight.

"You've improved," Cain said, blocking another thrust. "Much sharper than yesterday."

Maris growled softly and pressed harder, spear darting with rapid thrusts, spins, and sweeps. Cain met each one effortlessly, the skill allowing him to predict her momentum without telegraphing his own reactions. The wooden swords felt light in his hands, almost like extensions of himself. Every strike he parried was more fluid than the last.

She stepped back briefly, eyes narrowing. "You are holding back," she said.

Cain tilted his head. "Why would I need to stop?"

Her jaw clenched. Then she lunged forward with a single, massive strike. Both hands gripped the spear as she coiled her body into it, hoping to break through his guard with sheer force.

Cain's eyes narrowed. This was the opening he had been waiting for. He let the strike come, meeting it directly. At the last moment, he blinked to her side, appearing almost instantly. One sword leveled at her throat, the other ready in case she reacted.

Maris froze, eyes wide with shock.

Cain smirked faintly. "Next time," he said calmly, "I will follow through."

Her glare was sharp, golden eyes burning with irritation.

"You cheated," she muttered, gripping her spear tighter.

Cain lowered his swords but stayed close. "You told me to fight seriously. That was serious."

The weight of their duel lingered in the air. Maris exhaled sharply, planting her spear in the dirt. Her expression was a mix of frustration and respect.

"Again," she said firmly.

Cain smirked. "So you can lose twice in a row?"

"So I can win," she replied immediately, already stepping back into stance.

The students had gathered slightly closer, curiosity winning over their whispers. They watched the pair with bated breath. Some eyes glimmered with admiration for Maris's technique, others with awe at Cain's composure.

Cain stepped forward, blades ready. He moved in measured strikes, each one guided by the skill, testing Maris's limits. She reacted with spins and thrusts, stretching the skill to its fullest. Cain realized with a thrill how naturally the swords responded. Even against unpredictable spear attacks, the Demonic Swordsmanship skill allowed him to flow with her movements, to anticipate her force, and to respond faster than thought.

"You are faster than yesterday," Cain noted, blocking a rapid thrust aimed at his midsection.

"And you are sharper," Maris replied, spinning her spear and striking low. "You can still improve. I will find your opening."

The exchange grew more intense. Cain blocked and countered, sometimes forcing her to retreat, other times allowing her attacks to brush past as a test of timing. The skill responded perfectly, each motion efficient, each parry precise. Cain could feel its power expanding with every clash. It was exhilarating.

Maris pressed harder, her spear a blur. Cain danced between blocks and counters, the Demonic Swordsmanship guiding him. He began to understand its full potential. Not just raw speed or strength, but control, timing, and fluidity. It allowed him to fight at a level he had only dreamed of, even against an opponent as skilled as Maris.

Finally, she launched another powerful thrust, coiling her body like a spring, trying to overwhelm him with sheer force. Cain let it come. At the apex of her strike, he blinked to her side once again, the blade leveled at her throat.

Maris froze, golden eyes wide, breath catching as she realized the move's inevitability.

Cain's lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. "Next time," he said evenly, "I will follow through."

Maris scowled but did not back down. Her hands gripped the spear tighter, clearly already plotting her next attack.

Cain allowed her a moment to catch her breath, sheathing the wooden swords for a second. He felt a rare satisfaction. The skill had performed perfectly, responding intuitively to her spear techniques, to her fluid spins, and to her unpredictable lunges. He had not expected it to feel this natural so quickly, to provide him such precise control.

"You need to work on your openings," Cain said calmly, gesturing toward her stance. "Next time I might not just stop at a warning."

Maris's glare could have cut stone, but she only adjusted her grip on the spear and nodded slightly. "Good," she said. "I will hit you next time."

Cain chuckled softly, watching her tighten her focus. This was the first session, and already it had pushed both of them further than they had expected. The skill had exceeded his expectations, and Maris's improvement since yesterday was undeniable.

"You are stronger than I imagined," Cain admitted.

"And you are sharper," she replied. "I will find your weakness."

The sun climbed higher in the sky, casting long shadows across the training ground. Students slowly began drifting away, some murmuring about the fight, others still watching in awe. Cain and Maris remained, the air between them charged with anticipation.

This was only the beginning

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