Clang—!

  A sharp, grating resonance rang out.

  Hilda’s boots scraped along the ground as she was forced backward, retreating all the way to the edge of the dueling arena before finally managing to neutralize Caius’s power.

  She was gasping for breath, sweat dripping from her chin—an obvious sign of how hard that last exchange had been.

  In front of her, Caius remained standing tall, the smile on his face as calm and genuine as ever, making him look like a gentle, honest man.

  But to Hilda’s eyes in that moment, his figure was shrouded in darkness. From his eyes erupted a crimson glow filled with savagery and bloodlust—faint, yet undeniable. For an instant, she thought she was facing that Slaughter Wolf Demon again.

  She shook her head, swallowed hard, and only then realized—her throat was dry.

  The pressure Caius exerted on her was overwhelming.

  Far beyond what she had felt back then facing the Slaughter Wolf Demon.

  But then, the very next moment, that suffocating pressure vanished.

  Hilda blinked, slightly stunned, and looked at Caius. She saw that he had clasped his hands behind his back, standing like an instructor overseeing his trainees.

  “Did you feel it?” Caius asked. “That killing intent?”

  Hilda remained silent for a moment, then nodded.

  She stood up, staring at him as she asked, “Were you really trying to kill me?”

  “What do you think?” Caius asked in return.

  “I think you were!”

  “Exactly,” he said with a chuckle. “But in truth, I wasn’t. After all, we’re not enemies—we’re friends. This was just a friendly spar.”

  Hilda tightened her grip on her sword. “But your moves… were killing blows.”

  “Correct. Every single one of them aimed to kill,” Caius replied without hesitation.

  “Why?” Hilda’s voice trembled.

  Caius shook his head. “Kid, you’re good. Really good. You caught every opening and struck back with precision.”

  “But every time—you held back.”

  “Do you know why?”

  “Because this is a spar between friends. I didn’t want to kill you. But you… you wanted to kill me!” Hilda's voice cracked, raw and trembling.

  Her eyes were reddened now, her emotions clearly stirred. There was anger, maybe frustration… even a hint of grievance?

  Caius shook his head again. “That’s not the reason.”

  “Kid, I never wanted to kill you. But you thought I did.”

  “Just because every strike of mine was lethal. But did you die?”

  “If I truly wanted to kill you—on the twelfth move, when I switched my grip on the dagger, the reversed thrust would’ve pierced through your jaw and into your brain.”

  “On the thirty-seventh move, when I twisted my wrist, your arm would’ve been dislocated, rendering you incapable of fighting.”

  “On the eighty-fourth move, had I stepped forward by just half a step, I wouldn’t have sliced off a piece of your shoulder guard—I would’ve cut through your throat.”

  “But did you die?”

  Hilda had no words. Because deep down, she knew he was telling the truth. Those moments—she had been mere inches from death. She could feel it in her bones.

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  That’s why she was shaken.

  They said this was a friendly spar… then why go all out? Why go for the kill?

  But at the same time, she found herself wondering—why didn’t she die?

  “Control,” Caius said suddenly.

  Hilda’s pupils contracted. She looked into his eyes.

  “Control your opponent. Drag them into your rhythm. Only then can you truly control yourself.”

  “Your swordplay is sharp—but it lacks killing intent!”

  “You didn’t step into this fight with the intent to kill. That’s understandable. But listen—your body and your mind are out of sync. They’re not aligned!”

  “You saw this as a friendly duel—fine. But that made you hesitate before every move, made you wonder how to strike me, hurt me, defeat me—without killing me.”

  “You’re not confident, kid. That’s not real confidence.”

  “Otherwise, why would you be afraid of accidentally killing me?”

  “This is just a sparring match. There’s even a protective Magic Circle over the arena. Even if you did mess up, the Circle would’ve protected me. You couldn’t have killed me. So why the hesitation?”

  “Do you think it wasn’t necessary?”

  “No—that’s a tactical misjudgment!”

  “What if this were a real battlefield? No protective Magic Circle. And I was your real enemy. You wanted to capture me alive—so you held back just like you did now?”

  “What happens then?”

  “You lose every advantage your strength and technique gave you. And I kill you instead.”

  At those words, the color drained from Hilda’s face.

  “True confidence isn’t hesitating before you act.”

  “You let your thoughts lead your sword. That’s wrong.”

  “You hold back after your blade’s pierced my throat—not before you even reach me.”

  “If you truly had confidence, you’d be able to control that.”

  “That’s how you avoid hesitating in battle. That’s how you don’t let someone like me seize the initiative, pull you into my rhythm, force you into the defensive.”

  “Understand?”

  “You won’t always be in the academy.”

  “And your battlefield won’t always come with protective wards and safety nets.”

  “Treat every fight as life or death. Go all out. Hold back only after you’ve seized control of the situation.”

  At those words, Hilda loosened her tight grip.

  She drew a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. Her blade returned to its sheath. Looking at Caius, a soft smile appeared on her face.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” Caius replied with a smile of his own, then glanced helplessly at the battered dagger in his hand. “Sorry, little kitty, I wrecked your short sword.”

  “I’ll make you a better one later.”

  “It’s okay, meow!” Kiki cheerfully shook her head, lifting her chin proudly as she glanced at the wide-eyed trainees around them.

  She only knew one thing—her big guy won. And he won gloriously!

  “Now, can you tell me more about your combat style?” Caius asked.

  But Hilda raised a hand, glancing at the nearby students. “This isn’t the place. Come with me.”

  She turned and headed off without waiting.

  Caius nodded and beckoned to Kiki to follow.

  They passed through the academy’s main building, avoiding the crowds, until Hilda led them to a beautifully kept garden.

  In the center stood a picturesque little pavilion.

  “Hydis has a place like this?” Caius marveled at the scenery and the elegant sculptures.

  “This is my garden,” Hilda said.

  “Yours?” Caius blinked. “How’d you pull that off?”

  Seeing the surprise on his face, Hilda felt unexpectedly pleased. It was like she had regained a bit of her shaken confidence.

  “Once you become student council president, you get your own garden. Behind it is my private dorm.”

  “Holy crap…” Caius stared ahead.

  That wasn’t a dorm—it was a villa, complete with walls and a yard. It was practically a private manor. You call that a dormitory?

  At the pavilion, Hilda sat down. With a wave of her hand, a beautifully arranged tea set and an assortment of snacks appeared on the table.

  “High Mountain White Peach, or Maraisya?” she asked.

  The latter seemed like a kind of tea too, though Caius had never heard of it. So he went with the High Mountain White Peach.

  With graceful ease, Hilda prepared a pot of flower tea. She took a refined sip before continuing.

  “All right,” she said. “Your combat style leans toward aggressive offense. While your speed is impressive, you focus it mostly on attacks. Rather than dodging, you prefer to block.”

  “That means your blade needs both exceptional hardness and flexibility. So, I plan to forge your new sword using Astralite as the primary material. Astralite isn't just incredibly hard and tough—it’s also lightweight. It won’t slow you down.” Caius said.

  “Astralite?” Hilda raised an eyebrow. “That must be expensive.”

  “Mhm. I’ve prepared 0.5kg of it.”

  “Once we blend it with a few other materials, including the hilt and the guard, the total weight won’t exceed 0.75kg.”

  Hilda was clearly taken aback.

  Her ideal sword weight had always hovered around 0.75kg—light enough for agility, but solid enough to maintain control and feel.

  Yet swords that balanced high hardness, superior toughness, and lightweight properties were extremely rare.

  Even with the right materials, most smiths lacked the skill to craft something like that.

  Take her broken sword, for instance—already considered lightweight, yet still weighed 0.9kg, and it lacked proper resilience.

  Besides, Astralite was a high-grade metal, not something you came across cheaply.

  If Caius had really prepared half a kilogram of it, then this sword would easily cost over two hundred thousand gold coins—not including Caius’s craftsmanship fee.

  What struck her even more, though, were Caius’s earlier words. They had stirred something inside her, opened her mind to new possibilities.

  So now, as she looked at him, her gaze carried a complex mixture of emotions.

  And perhaps… a touch of anticipation.