"The Snowdance primarily focuses on evasion..."

Stepping back, he dodged her slash, her katana burning with azure aura as it flashed past his chest, narrowly missing his shirt.

"It will take more than that to hit me."

Not giving Cheshire enough time to process her loss, he brought his sword down on her again. Now knowing dodging would merely get her cut, Cheshire placed her katana over her head, blocking the attack.

Clang...

Her knees bent, ripples of the impact tearing through her body and leaving her arms numb.

Why was he so strong?

Gritting her teeth, she gripped her sword with both hands, pushing Art back with all her might. Art staggered back as she tilted her blade, sending a thrust aimed at his head.

"Too slow..."

Skillfully evading, he mocked her, causing Cheshire to enter a ferocious charge. Her strikes increased, growing faster and sharper.

Swing, slash, and thrust—she wove them all into her attack, trying to force Art onto the defensive.

It didn't matter if his strikes were more lethal and powerful than hers. As long as he never got a chance to strike, she was sure she could wear him out. She just had to hold on, make no mistakes, and victory would be hers.

As long as she could wipe that smirk off Art's face, that was all that mattered.

"Darn... I do know I have a handsome face, but can you stop obsessing over it?"

His footwork grew rougher to complement the ferocious strikes aimed at him. He taunted once more before raising his sword to parry, but Cheshire was no fool. She knew if her slash was parried, she'd be pushed back due to the sheer difference in strength. So, redrawing her katana, she leaped back and retreated.

"Oh!"

Disappointed, Art placed his sword over his shoulder, his gaze locked onto Cheshire.

"Fleeing from a fight? Now, that's not something a Seven would do."

"..."

She tried not to respond, her grip on her katana's hilt growing tighter. Art was just trying to get under her skin, she muttered to herself.

She needed to focus and analyze the battle. She needed to envision this as real combat, where emotions had to be stripped away to maintain composure. Letting his words hurt her would damage her reasoning and cause her to lash out—only to be defeated. In real combat, that meant death.

"His strikes are heavy but one-note. Evasion is his strongest suit."

Judging by the fact he hadn't used any techniques—only footwork—she presumed he was going easy on her, not underestimating her.

"I can't catch him off guard. As a matter of fact, he seems too guarded, especially against a student."

Observing Art standing still, just smiling at her, she bit her lip.

"Is it because of my intent, or does he know I can use that?"

Her aura's distinct color denoted intent, even if she wasn't fully exercising it. More than that, she had a technique—something only a few students in the knight course possessed.

"Should I use it?... No." She shook her head. The technique passed down to her was meant for life-threatening scenarios, not a spar.

"Right now, I'll just focus on mobility and switch stances."

Taking inspiration from the various sword styles of the East, she sheathed her blade and channeled her aura into her feet.

The major use for aura was amplification.

Full-body coating was an all-rounded amplification, providing a jack-of-all-trades effect where the amplification spread evenly. But for selective amplification, all effects concentrated in one area, granting a more potent boost.

Feeling the warmth of aura wrapping around her feet, she looked up with a clear head.

"Just one strike... Even if I lose, I need to leave one scar on his body."

Crouching, her gaze grew serene as she channeled aura into her hand and blade.

Selective amplification could be spread across different parts, and now she had used it to strengthen her arms, her katana, and her feet.

In essence, she had abandoned defense and become a glass cannon. Faster, stronger, sharper—but also far more fragile.

If she took even a single blow from Art in this state, she'd be knocked out. And she was prepared for that—as long as she left a scar.

"I didn't do this because of arrogance!"

Whispering to herself, she glanced at the sleeping elf, lost in her own world.

"Must be nice, not having a care in the world."

Admiring how nonchalantly the elf slept during a spar, she smiled to herself before locking eyes with Art—whose smile had faded, replaced by a stern, guarded expression.

"So, you are capable of taking me seriously."

She took a runner's stance, one hand on her sheath, the other on her hilt.

She wasn't a member of the Seven, nor was she a prodigy—but she was by no means inferior. She had intent, a warrior's conviction.

So her azure aura burned brilliantly as she took a deep breath and—

---

Art's POV

I was supposed to be a mentor—a guide for this new generation of heroes. But had I done that?

No.

Ever since I came to this world, all I'd thought about was getting stronger. My system, the [Disciple Cultivation System], didn't cultivate students—it only cultivated me. It was a fraud, with me as its master.

What kind of teacher was I if I only sought to benefit from my students?

They were my lifeline, but it was also my duty to make them strong, to make them the best—to make them legendary. And for that, I needed to know their conviction. Starting with Cheshire.

She was an unfortunate character, always playing second fiddle to Trish and the others. Even when she worked harder, she was easily overshadowed. Soon, she faded away—her ambition too shallow to compete with the likes of Valerie and Trish.

She masked her inferiority complex behind a teasing facade, but that would only harm her in the long run.

She had to accept she wouldn't be better than them—not now, not ever. She had to know her limits so she wouldn't break like she did before.

So she wouldn't die like she did.

Scared and helpless.

So I didn't care if I had to be cruel. I had to absolutely overpower her.

Activating Trish's technique, I took a step forward, my sword raised, its edge locked onto her.

"Come!"

As I instructed, she moved in a soft dash straight toward me.

Like a blur, in a flash, she redrew her blade—its tip tracing an azure horizontal arc at me. But—

"Too weak!"

With a sigh full of disappointment, my sword came down. It was far inferior in speed, so for a second, I saw hope flash in her eyes.

But that hope twisted into despair as my sword accelerated beyond reason—shattering her attack and homing in on her.

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