Chapter 27: Twelve Hours
Asher sat in the lotus position, his posture composed and calm, while the clash of steel rang sharply in the air around him. Yet, the metallic symphony failed to disturb his focus.
In the Wargrave Ducal family, trainees were never coddled with wooden replicas. From the very outset, they were expected to wield authentic weapons, steel, sharpened, and unrestrained.
The risk of injury was not a concern; people with exceptional healing abilities were always on hand to mend flesh and bone. Mastery, after all, demanded real consequences.
The trainees no longer spared glances in Asher’s direction. This time was meant for training, not idle admiration. Inspired, perhaps even pressured, by Asher’s earlier display, Clinton had driven them to their absolute limits.
Seated in perfect stillness, Asher finally stirred. His eyelids fluttered open, revealing deep violet eyes that calmly took in the world around him. The very moment his gaze returned to the present, Clinton’s voice rang out.
"Training will resume tomorrow."
With that simple command, the session came to an end. One by one, the trainees moved and began filing out of the open courtyard. Fatigue hung heavy in their steps.
The sun had already begun its descent, casting long shadows across the First Training Ground, it was evening, and darkness crept steadily over the horizon.
Asher walked ahead of the group, his pace unhurried yet assured. He had already familiarized himself with the layout of the First Training Ground, there was no need to follow behind like the others.
Up ahead, the trio of top-ranked trainees moved with the quiet confidence befitting their skill. Upon noticing Asher’s approach, they halted at once and offered a respectful greeting.
"Good evening, Tenth Sun."