Looking Forward to Tomorrow's Spar
"Then I'll look forward to tomorrow's spar."
The massive blaze vanished without a trace at Haellagos's casual wave of the hand. With the crushing heat gone, breathing came much easier. Yoahim rubbed his throat and nodded vigorously.
"Yeah, you do that."
"That's all from me. Go rest up for tomorrow."
Haellagos put his glasses back on and slowly returned to his paperwork. A great demon buried in documents... It didn't suit him at all, but there was nothing laughable about it. For Haellagos to pore over paperwork like that meant he truly cared for his people. It might look ridiculous for a great demon, but as a lord, it was exactly what he should be.
"See you tomorrow."
Yoahim gave a light wave and took the inter-floor elevator down to his level. Stepping out, he was greeted by the fifth floor of the Spire Tower, now decked out with all sorts of furniture. Halbert had suggested turning it into something like a dungeon, but for some reason, it was starting to look more like a luxury home. That was because Yoahim had dumped the management of the floor on Sasha out of laziness. She'd thrown herself into creating a proper rest space for the apostle, and this was the result. Though to be fair, she might have gotten a bit too into interior decorating.
Whatever, who cares. If enemies broke through all the way here, the fight was already lost anyway. Unless it was the hero's party or something, but that wasn't happening.
"Apostle, have you eaten?"
Leon, fresh from training and straight back to the fifth floor of the Spire Tower, had just showered—his hair was still damp.
"Where's Sasha?"
"Preparing dinner. Should be ready as soon as you wash up."
"Got it. I'll go clean up, so if I'm taking too long, eat without me."
"Mm, was planning to anyway."
"... "
"Kidding, Apostle."
Leon shrugged, but his face said he wasn't joking. It was pretty disloyal for a lieutenant, but Yoahim let it slide. He knew better than anyone how loyal Leon really was, no matter how he acted.
Guess I should wash up too.
The cooling sweat brought a chill, and the salt made his skin sticky. Yoahim headed quickly for the bathroom.
"Every time I see this place, it's impressive..."
It was called a bathroom, but it wasn't like the dingy ones at inns. White marble covered everything, and in the center, a lion statue spewed hot water. The tub was oversized for one person, and the water even carried a herbal scent. The faintly glowing jade-green water tempted him to dive right in. Originally, the fifth floor of the Spire Tower hadn't had anything this nice—Sasha had built it during her renovations.
A bit over the top, but damn, she did a good job.
Yoahim stripped off his gear and stowed it in his inventory. Naked now, he glanced at his reflection and smiled in satisfaction. Just a month of training, but the results were visible. His muscles were visibly bulkier. Whether it was the game system or his status as Karakali's apostle, his body was changing fast. After admiring himself a moment, a sudden chill sent him plunging into the tub. He soaked away the day's fatigue in the hot water.
Refreshed, he grabbed a towel, dried off in the changing room, and pulled fresh clothes from his inventory.
"Ah, Apostle! Come eat!"
As he emerged, Sasha waved from the table.
"Gratin today. Eat it before it gets cold."
The aroma of golden-brown cheese whetted his appetite. Starving, Yoahim grabbed a spoon and dug in. The tangy tomato sauce and rich ingredients made every bite irresistible. He polished off the bowl in no time, patted his full belly, and washed it down with cool water.
"Whew, stuffed... Great meal, Sasha. Your cooking's getting better every day."
"I've been learning from the Spire Tower chefs whenever I have time. Glad it suits your taste."
Sasha giggled happily, and Yoahim grinned back. Satisfied, he stood and headed for the bedroom.
"I'm turning in."
After such grueling training, he needed to recover for tomorrow. Yoahim always crashed right after dinner. He flopped onto the soft bed, wrapped himself in warm blankets, and sleep came quickly. Waking up was just as swift.
Chirp chirp chirp.
Birdsong outside roused him slowly. He'd only closed his eyes for a moment, but morning was here.
"...Time for training again."
Same routine every day, but today was special. Sparring with one of Haellagos's knights after. Yoahim washed with hot water, ate a quick breakfast, and headed to the training grounds with Leon and Sasha.
"Ah, you're here!"
Kelcia had arrived even earlier and was waiting. As Yoahim approached, she said tensely,
"You're sparring with one of Lord Haellagos's knights after training today, right?"
Yoahim started strapping sandbags to his wrists and ankles. His body felt instantly heavier.
"Yeah."
"You'll definitely win! I believe in you, Apostle! The knights are super strong, but I still believe in you!"
So you believe in me or not? Yoahim chuckled dryly and started his jog. After sweating it out, he moved to strength training, then sword drills on the dummies. Months of daily practice meant he could do it blindfolded, perfectly.
Still not enough.
His thirst for growth was like parching in the desert. Kelcia was a great teacher, but she could only give him the basics. Solid foundations were the path to perfection. He'd learned to walk—now it was time to run.
Win this spar, and I can learn more.
To gain from a new teacher, he had to win. This spar proved all his hard work. But Yoahim wasn't nervous or shaking. He just trained as always, steadily.
No need to freak out. Just do what I've been doing.
Effort and sweat never betrayed. He calmed his mind like a still lake and hammered the dummy. With each rep, his focus sharpened. On the final strike—
Crack!
"... "
The dummy snapped. Made from the hardest wood in the Withered Land, reinforced with magic—it couldn't withstand Yoahim's accumulated effort, like water wearing down stone.
"Training over?"
He knew who it was without turning. Kelcia bowed deeply, and Yoahim wiped sweat from his brow.
"Ready to start?"
"No rest first?"
"Resting would make it worse. Better to end it quick."
"Full of confidence."
The snap was Haellagos flicking his fingers. Yoahim steadied his breath, facing the demon knight now before him.
"An honor to meet you, Apostle. I'm Ian of the knight order."
Ian was a hulking knight with sharp horns glinting overhead. Yoahim mentally reviewed today's training—no need to check levels. It was about winning, not numbers. Enemies weren't always weaker; sometimes stronger. That's why he'd trained so hard—to beat anyone.
"Nice to meet you. Let's begin."
They took position at a distance, vital spots armored, practice swords drawn. Heavy silence broke as Ian attacked first. His footfall was light yet menacing.
Focus.
Yoahim didn't budge. Kelcia watched anxiously.
Why isn't he moving? Scared? No way. Then why? Worries swirled, but Haellagos's presence kept her silent.
Not yet.
Ian closed the gap in about three seconds. Two had passed. One left. Yoahim gripped his sword tight, still.
He looked passive, but he had no intention of taking the hit.
One shot. Only one.
A true hunter doesn't chase. He lures. But in nature, hunter and prey aren't fixed. In pursuit, roles flip easily. It's decided only when one dies. The one who thought himself hunter might be prey. This was a test. To know who he was. Where he stood. Hunter or prey? Luring the foe, or trapped? The answer came in one decisive clash. No second chances. If one strike ended it, no need for two.
Time nearly up. The apostle raised his sword.
"... "
The blades clashed.
Everyone held their breath. Only one victor.
Light cleaved light.
"...I lose."
Perfect practice made perfect strike. Yoahim stood firm. Ian staggered up from the chest thrust that floored him. One blow, but lethal in real combat.
"Impressive."
Haellagos clapped approvingly. Kelcia sighed in relief; Leon and Sasha cheered the win. Amid the echoing applause, Yoahim raised his sword overhead.
No victory roar. Today, Apostle Yoahim had proven his strength.