[Leona POV]

Clang!

A heavy iron greatsword smashed into the ground, vibrating violently from the impact.

"Again!"

Leona roared, sweat pouring down her forehead, her breathing heavy but steady as her muscles tensed.

Taking a deep breath, she picked up the sword, a spare training weapon provided by the Elves, and swung it with all her might.

Whoosh!

The blade cut the air, heavy and fierce. It smashed into the enchanted wooden training dummy.

Crack.

The dummy splintered, a deep gash appearing in its side.

"Weak," Leona growled, tossing the sword aside in disgust. "Too weak."

She looked at her hands. They were trembling. Not from pain, the Young Lord had healed her injuries completely with that miraculous golden light, but from frustration.

Ever since the battle with Charron, she felt… small.

She was supposed to be the Vanguard. The shield. The one who stood in front of the Young Lord.

But against the Lich, she had been tossed aside like a ragdoll. If Damien hadn't saved her, she would be a mindless zombie right now.

"Is this the limit of a beast-man?"

She looked around the Elven training grounds.

The Royal Guards were sparring nearby, moving with fluid, elegant grace.

They looked at her, a hulking lion-girl swinging a slab of iron like a brute with a mix of curiosity and pity.

'They think I'm a savage. A slave playing knight.'

'And they're right. I just swing and hit. No technique. No magic. Just muscle.'

She gritted her teeth, her golden eyes flashing with anger. She picked up the sword again.

The Slaver Masters had beaten the "Iron Mountain" style into her. It was the only way she knew how to fight. Stance. Grip. Leverage.

Clang.

She hit the dummy again. It didn't break.

"You are fighting yourself, child."

A calm voice drifted from the edge of the training field.

Leona spun around, her tail swishing instinctively.

Standing there, watching her with amused green eyes, was Queen Aelinor. The Queen wasn't wearing her royal robes; she was dressed in simple training leathers, holding a wooden staff.

"Your Majesty," Leona bowed clumsily, almost dropping her sword.

"At ease," Aelinor waved her hand. She walked closer, circling Leona like a predator inspecting prey.

"I've been watching you for an hour. You have immense strength. Your muscles are denser than any human, and your reflexes are sharper than any elf."

The Queen stopped in front of her.

"So why do you fight like a clumsy human peasant?"

Leona flinched. "I... I was trained in the Pits. The masters taught me—"

"They taught you to be entertaining," Aelinor cut her off.

"They gave you a sword because humans like to see swords. They gave you armor because humans like knights. They forced you into a box that doesn't fit you."

Aelinor reached out and tapped the heavy greatsword in Leona's hand.

"This piece of metal... it slows you down. It dulls your senses. You are worried about the edge, the weight, the reach."

"But I need a weapon," Leona argued, her voice tight. "I can't fight monsters with my bare hands. I'm not a mage like Isabelle or the Young Lord."

"You are a Lion-kin," Aelinor said softly. "You were born with weapons."

She pointed at Leona's hands.

"Drop the sword."

Leona hesitated. The sword was her shield. It was the only thing that made her feel like a 'warrior' and not just a beast.

"Drop it," Aelinor commanded, her voice sharpening.

Clang.

Leona let the sword fall.

"Now," Aelinor stepped back. She raised her staff. "Attack me."

"What?" Leona blinked. "But I don't have—"

"Attack me!"

Whoosh!

A vine whipped out from Aelinor's staff, lashing at Leona's legs. Leona jumped instinctively, her powerful leg muscles launching her three meters into the air.

"Good reflexes," Aelinor noted. "But you are still thinking like a human. You are looking for a weapon to pick up. Stop thinking."

The Queen flicked her wrist. The ground beneath Leona erupted. Roots shot up, trying to bind her.

"Roar, Leona!" Aelinor shouted. "Don't block. Don't parry. Hunt."

Hunt.

The word triggered something deep in Leona's blood.

She dodged a root. She didn't step; she scrambled on all fours, moving low to the ground.

The world shifted. She didn't see 'opponents' anymore. She saw 'prey.'

Her heart rate slowed. Her pupils dilated. The mana in the air didn't feel like magic; it felt like scent.

'There.'

She sensed Aelinor's position not with her eyes, but with the vibration of the earth.

Leona lunged.

She pouncing with all her might., She covered twenty meters in a single, explosive leap.

Instinctively, she reached out with her hands.

Snikt.

Sharp, curved claws extended from her fingertips.

A red, wild, hot, and bloody aura erupted from her skin. It wasn't the refined aura of a knight. It was Beast Aura.

Aelinor's eyes widened slightly. She raised a wooden barrier.

SLASH!

Leona's claws tore through the magical wood like it was paper.

BOOM!

She landed, her fist slamming into the ground where the Queen had been a split second ago. The impact created a crater three times larger than anything she had done with the sword.

Dust filled the air.

Leona stood up, breathing heavily. Her hands were glowing with red energy. Her nails were now long, razor-sharp talons.

"I..." Leona looked at her hands, stunned. "I cut through the barrier?"

"You tore through it," Aelinor corrected, appearing on a nearby tree branch, looking unruffled but pleased.

"You stopped trying to be a soldier, Leona. You remembered you are a predator."

The Queen jumped down.

"That red energy... that is Beast Aura. It is unique to your kind. It cannot be channeled through cold steel. It must be channeled through your own body. Your claws. Your fangs. Your fists."

Leona clenched her fist. The red aura flared, responding to her heartbeat. It felt... right. It felt like coming home.

"I don't need a sword," Leona whispered, a grin spreading across her face. It wasn't a polite smile. It was a feral, toothy grin. "I am the sword."

"Exactly," Aelinor nodded. "That Kid Damien saw this potential in you. That is why he saved you. He doesn't need another knight. He needs a monster."

Leona stood up to her full height. The shame of her defeat against Charron vanished, replaced by a burning hunger to test this new power.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Leona bowed, but this time, she didn't look clumsy. She looked dangerous.

"Don't thank me," Aelinor turned to leave. "Just make sure you don't break my training grounds. Repairing them is expensive."

As the Queen left, Leona turned back to the training dummy, the one she had struggled to scratch earlier.

She walked up to it. She didn't take a stance. She just swiped.

CRUNCH.

The dummy exploded into splinters.

Leona laughed. A deep, rumbling sound that shook the leaves.

"I'm ready," she growled, looking toward the castle where Damien was resting. "Next time... I won't be the one getting thrown."

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