Raelith stood frozen, overwhelmed with shock. Nobody could truly understand the state he was in. It was one thing to watch your opponent copy your fighting style, it was something else entirely to watch them improve it right before your very eyes, on the spot, with such terrifying ease.
He couldnât help but look at Anthony from head to toe, as if trying to confirm he was real. His mind swirled with the legends of the Sword Saint, that mythical figure many revered.
And yet, even in that moment, Raelith was certain, even the Sword Saint hadnât been this outrageous, at least not at Anthonyâs current age.
âAre you sure the Supreme Monarch gave birth to a human?â Warlord Raelith couldnât help but wonder, disbelief echoing through his thoughts.
He could tell, just from this short spar, which had lasted only a few hours, that he had made major improvements. Real, tangible improvements that would have taken others months, even years, to achieve.
But what rattled him more was the realization that Anthony hadnât improved at all. Not because he wasnât capable, but because there was simply nothing for him to gain. Nothing he could learn from Raelith. That fact alone was disheartening.
âWhat are they even feeding him? Or is the blood combination of three Supreme Monarchs just this outrageous?â Raelithâs thoughts continued in silent frustration.
"Warlord Raelith," Anthony spoke, his voice calm but pointed. "It seems you dodged instead of parrying or blocking."
His gaze fell squarely on the stunned expression of the Warlord, who still looked as though he hadnât fully processed the outcome of their clash.
Although they hadnât verbally agreed on the rules before the katana spar began, those who truly loved the katana didnât need to discuss such things. The rules were unspoken, understood instinctively. If you didnât know them, then perhaps you didnât love the katana enough.
Likewise, although they hadnât clarified how to determine the winner, they both understood one thing: a match like this wasnât meant to end in fatality. They would pull back at the last possible moment if an attack aimed at a lethal point, such as the neck, eyes, or heart and the opponent couldnât block or parry it.
Anthonyâs words snapped Warlord Raelith out of his thoughts. He exhaled softly, then smiled in resignation.
"It seems so, Lieutenant Anthony. It seems this is my loss."
He had dodged instinctively, knowing he couldnât keep up any longer. He had simply been overwhelmed, outmatched in every aspect of the katanaâs way.
âHow did he even acquire such battle experience?â Warlord Raelith couldnât help but wonder again.
"It seems youâve gained quite a bit from this spar, Warlord Raelith," Anthony said calmly with a warm smile as he sheathed his katana. He could feel it trembling faintly, vibrating with exhilaration, as though it, too, had enjoyed the clash.
"It seems so, Lieutenant Anthony. But I must say, it appears you have a bit of a dark heart," Raelith replied with a wry chuckle. "You cut me off mid-improvement."
"Shouldnât you at least pay a small fee if you want to improve under my tutelage, Warlord Raelith?" Anthony asked teasingly. "Besides, I showed you a better version of your own style, for free. Iâm sure youâve gained insight from that as well."
If anyone else, Lieutenant or not, had dared speak to a Warlord about charging for âtutelage,â they would likely have been decapitated where they stood. But Anthony wasnât just anyone.
He had just defeated Warlord Raelith using Raelithâs own sword style.
Raelith smiled faintly. He knew Anthony was right. He had gained not just new insights into his katana style, but also into his own curretn limitations.
The spar had been far more beneficial than he could have ever anticipated. Still, he couldnât help but ask the question that weighed most heavily on his mind.
"How did you do it?"
Anthony tilted his head slightly, brow furrowed.
"Do what, Warlord Raelith?"
"I mean... copy my style. Have you seen it before or something? How did you improve it so fast?"
Raelith asked, his tone calm but probing. Deep down, he already suspected the truth, but he had to hear it aloud. Maybe, just maybe, Anthony wasnât that much of a monster.
"Iâm simply that talented, Warlord Raelith," Anthony replied without arrogance, just pure, unfiltered truth. "Itâs not something that can be taught or learned, just like how newborn babies arenât taught how to breathe. Weâre simply born, and we start breathing."
As he spoke, Anthony casually began brushing the dust off his clothes. Infinity wasnât active to keep him clean this time, and he couldnât use mana at the moment either.
Raelith sighed. He had expected that answer. Still, hearing it was different than suspecting it.
âThe world truly is unfair. With that kind of talent... I could have been a Supreme Monarch by now,â he thought, his eyes lifting to the blue sky above as a quiet bitterness bloomed inside him.
"So... what do you want?" Raelith asked suddenly, breaking the silence.
"What do you mean?" Anthony replied.
"The wager," Raelith said plainly. "The loser has to do something for the winner."
Anthony blinked, then remembered. Right, the wager. He hadnât really paid it any mind because, in his heart, he knew there was no way he could lose. And besides, what could Warlord Raelith possibly offer that he didnât already have?
Sure, having a Warlord owe him a favor could be useful, but considering his mother was the Supreme Monarch of this base, it felt redundant.
After a few moments of thought, he shrugged. There really wasnât anything he needed.
"I donât have anything in particular I want from you right now," Anthony said calmly. "So Iâll keep the wager as a favor for now."
Raelith nodded, unsurprised and unbothered.
"Can I ask what you were going to request if you had won?" Anthony asked, more out of curiosity than necessity. He found it strange that Raelith had brought up a wager that hadnât even been discussed beforehand.
"Itâs nothing major," Raelith replied with a small grin. "Just that the other Warlords and I were thinking about..."
He went on to explain, offering the details without hesitation. There was nothing to hide.
Anthony shook his head, amused. âPlanning to take advantage of my supposed inexperience,â he thought.
"Well, thanks to the wonderful katana spar, Iâll get it for you, for free. No strings attached,"
Anthony said with a smile.
It was one of those rare moments where he acted not out of duty or ambition, but simply because he could... and because he was happy.
Raelith paused mid-step. Although Anthony had clearly said it was free and without strings, he still found himself asking:
"Why?"
"Letâs just say Iâm feeling good after a proper match," Anthony replied. "After all, itâs not every day you meet someone on your level when it comes to the katana."
He wasnât going to ask his mother for a recording of the Supreme Monarch-level battles. He had already witnessed that terrifying scale of combat during the return battle after the Starborn Tournament.
Even though he barely saw anything as they had been far too fast for his eyes, it didnât matter. Besides, he could always purchase the recording later from his system.
"Thank you," Warlord Raelith said sincerely.
"Youâre welcome," Anthony replied calmly, his voice laced with quiet satisfaction.