Covered in gore and blood, Art staggered through the woods, his expression dull from the many close calls with death he had experienced so far. After the lion's den, he went hunting around numerous unidentified beast nests. He did gain more combat experience, but it wasn't fun. The humanoid insects that had paralyzed him dozens of times, the shit-throwing monkeys, and the sonic screams of the giant canaries - it was agonizing to say the least.

"I hate effort."

Running his fingers through his wet hair, he sighed full of anguish. The early sun's glow further wore him out.

Right now he was pretty strong - not yet a powerhouse, but seen as an individual with the potential to be one. Yet all that strength was uncontrollable. It was like having the latest model of a sports car without being able to drive it. A single instance of recklessness could lead to an accident, and that was why he greatly needed real combat experience.

The more he used the Snowdance technique, the more it was engraved into his body. Hence he was slowly getting better at properly using a sword, but that wasn't enough. There was something more he had to comprehend to fully bring out his potential.

"It's a technique."

The reason he was feeling lackluster wasn't just about combat experience - he also lacked a technique that properly suited him. The Snowdance was too rigid and restrictive for him, and the basic dagger Arts he got from increasing Grim's emotional meter were too weak. He needed a technique or weapon art that was both flexible and easier to master.

"Maybe the sword isn't the weapon for me."

He really liked swords, but liking something didn't mean he would be good at using it.

"Spears... I could try that."

For a moment he envisioned himself with a golden spear in hand, tossing down pillars of island-sized light spears on his enemies. The sight was chilling and awesome, but he felt it didn't fit him yet.

"I'll just stick with swords."

He didn't need to be a swordmaster to win a fight - he just needed to be stronger and more cunning.

Reaching the side of the mountain road, he took the path leading downstream. With his sword strapped to his waist, he placed his hands in his pockets, his nonchalant expression shifting back and forth between passing vehicles.

Times like this were the few moments he could relax, but there must always be a calm before the storm. Villier's chances of becoming a villain were getting nearer and nearer, and if he fully accepted said role, Art would only have a few weeks before the eventual confrontation where he would destroy the barrier to the academy and let in dangerous people.

As his memories slowly repaired themselves, his face paled understanding what fate had in store.

"Once he returns, I'll confront him."

Words before conflict - that was his principle with any potential enemy.

------------------

"Hyakki Yagyō."

Stirring the cup of coffee before her, Valeria spoke.

"The abyssal parade of ten years ago?"

Responding to her words was Grim in casual attire, her expression full of warmth.

"Yes, my family among others living on the outskirts became casualties of that incident."

"Were you the only survivor?"

"No." She shook her head. "On paper I was the only survivor recorded but there was another ..."

"Did something happen to them?"

".....I can't remember. It's been so long."

Holding her forehead with her eyes closed, she winced in pain as the memories began to flood her mind.

"Take it easy."

Stretching her hands across the table, Grim patted her shoulder, relieving Valeria of some of the pain.

"I can't understand what's wrong with me..."

Holding her arms in discomfort, her voice cracked slightly.

"...As a child I was scared, but in time I was sure I got over it. I even dwelled in aura, but all that progress I made was ruined all because my childhood trauma resurfaced."

"Have you told the Spear Saint - I mean, your master - about it?"

Placing her arms on the table, Grim stared intently at her.

"I did, but all he told me was it was a trial I must overcome... hehe... as if that could help."

"Miss Valeria, can you tell me what time those traumas of yours began to resurface?"

"My second encounter with an Abyssal entity."

"When exactly?" Grim gestured for her to elaborate.

"A year ago when my master took me to the Rift. One of those freaks broke through the dimensional gap... or so my master said. The Sword Saint quickly dispatched it, but I did see it, and that's when it happened."

"So seeing an abyssal entity triggered your trauma?" Grim responded, not surprised.

"That could be a possibility, considering they're known to corrode minds." She added, causing Valerie to flinch a bit.

"You're saying I've gone mad?"

She wanted to cry at such a possibility. She hadn't even gotten her revenge nor experienced romance. Now she was going to be put down soon.

"Your words, not mine."

To lighten up the mood, Grim shrugged, her expression playful toward Valerie's panic.

Having opened up a bit to her and adding the information she already had on Valerie, she had deduced her problem was purely psychological with no external interference. It was a similar case to how she used to have difficulty with casual chatter, but a bit more advanced.

Her problem was the type that could be solved with the help of a psychologist or simply overcome by sheer will. The latter was somewhat difficult because the kind of environment to build such will wasn't easy to come by. The will to overcome such trauma needed a strong foundation built from years of hardship - and yes, while Valeria had seen things and experienced things she shouldn't have as a child, it wasn't enough.

Her determination was too lackluster, her personality too laid-back, and so her will was incomplete. That left her with the former option - someone good in psychology or at least who could recommend one. And strangely, the first person to come to her mind was unexpected.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.