Sam tried to hide his disappointment. He sat with his legs crossed and his eyes closed. The hall’s coldness tingled his skin with gooseflesh, but it wasn’t a problem. His wounds had already healed, and he looked forward to another hunt with Zel. However, Wexi had insisted he meet Bairon first. He sensed the man’s movement across the floor without actually hearing footsteps. Sam had been impressed by that, but that was only in the first few minutes. Now he was bored. He needed something to do. Something that would impact his growth.

  He could already feel his increased power from the recent level up. His understanding of crafting had improved, and even without using his appraisal skill, he could now assess material quality. But he needed more—more strength and more money. The eight silver seeds he’d earned from the Krilig hunt had mostly gone toward commissioning the dual-layered rune stone. Securing a three-tier enchanter had been difficult for Wexi, and getting one to work with a runemaster had cost more than Sam expected. Still, it was worth every silver seed. He had gained a weapon and leveled up.

  “Don’t get distracted,” Bairon whispered into his ear. Sam wanted to offer a snarky response but felt the sharp tip of Bairon’s dagger pressing against his neck. He hadn’t even noticed the man come close.

  “Again,” Bairon commanded, his voice gruff. Sam pushed down his displeasure, sinking into the ethereal feeling of balance. It was like emptying himself—a leaf floating on the surface of a calm pond. Bairon had told him that he was both the leaf and the pond. If either was disturbed, there would be ripples, movement.

  “You know I have good control over essence,” Sam said, his voice clipped. He heard no response and felt no ripple. For a moment, he thought Bairon had left, but something pricked the edge of his senses. It was there, somewhere. He couldn’t tell from which direction, and that irritated him. It was as if Bairon was trying to undo every bit of progress Sam had achieved. He focused harder, trying to sink deeper. He’d likened it to meditation, explaining the concept to Wexi until she understood.

  “No, not exactly,” She said, shaking her head. “Yet, I see the similarities. While meditation takes you into your subconscious, there’s an actual essence realm. That’s where you need to connect—it's called the domain of self. The name sounds like sinking into your subconscious, but it’s different. Your domain can look like anything. Alecsa’s is recorded as a fiery world of creatures. Mine is a large network of linked, pulsing cores.”

  Sam had tried to imagine that, but the harder he tried, the more impossible it seemed. He couldn’t reach it, and because of that, he felt like he was flailing within himself—helpless and stuck.

  Like the crack of lightning, Bairon’s presence flashed into existence in his stretched perception. Sam could suddenly sense him as if he was looking directly at him. His heart raced with relief—not because he thought he’d figured it out, but because he had felt blind before, bereft of his primal senses. He opened his eyes to find Bairon leaning against the far wall. The small rune lights cast just the right amount of illumination, lighting some parts while leaving others in complete darkness.

  Even now, Sam still couldn’t tell how wide the place was. He had a feeling there was something else involved because he could sense something strange.

  Bairon shoved off the wall, arms folded over his chest. His eyes were intense, but a small smile tugged at his lips as he approached Sam. , Sam decided. That was what he saw on the man’s face—a wild cunning. Perhaps that’s how he’d risen to lead Alecsa’s guard squad.

  “How did you do that?” Sam asked. Bairon grinned, his old face full of pride. Now standing before Sam, he loomed over him like a tower. The man was undoubtedly strong, but unlike Zel, Bairon felt like a cool spring stream. He smiled too much and exuded no real sense of threat or danger.

  “Years of training,” Bairon said. When Sam frowned, the old man chuckled. “I can see your impatience. You want to get stronger quickly. That’s how you end up gutted by a monster in some twice-forgotten part of the island. Stop, stay calm, and learn. That’s how you get better. Stronger.”

  “That’s how I get killed,” Sam shot back. “If I don’t get stronger soon, I’ll either be killed by a hired fist or by some wealthy person who thinks I remind them too much of their lost son. I have to be able to protect myself.”

  Bairon scratched his beard, his head leaning down as if to get a good look at Sam. “Still impatient,” he said. “You want to protect yourself? Train! Practice! Know your weapons like they’re part of you.”

  “I know my gun,” Sam said, a little too sharply. He sounded like a stung teenager, still smarting from when Wexi had taken the gun after they tried it out. Its rapid fire had been more amazing than he expected, but it drained essence faster than he’d anticipated. He needed more practice to bond with the rune stone properly. Once he did, he could reduce essence consumption and tweak the firepower to be less widespread and more controlled.

  The thought of everything he still had to do made him itch to leave, but Bairon’s eagerness to teach nothing and waste time kept him trapped. He sighed, leaning back on his arms.

  “You want to see what I mean?” Bairon asked, nodding. He stood and stepped back. “Zella, come.”

  Someone, a woman, slipped into the hall. She glanced from Sam to Bairon, giving him a shallow nod. Her unnaturally large eyes reflected the rune lights—fierce brown, ringed with gold. She was nearly as tall as Sam but slimmer and smaller.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Bairon grinned.

  Sam recognized her from Alecsa’s guard squad the day he made the gun. He stood up.

  “You will spar with him, Zella,” Bairon said. “You’re only allowed to use your hands while he can use whatever weapon he feels comfortable with. That is alright, yes?”

  “He’ll be using that weapon he crafted?” she asked, a pang of worry in her voice. Sam almost laughed, but Bairon guffawed. He shook his head, retreating to stand where he’d been before. “Then I accept.”

  Sam frowned. He knew what Bairon was doing. He’d done it himself before. When he gave an instruction to those who needed consultation and they were still stubborn, he let them try it their way. But Sam wasn’t being stubborn. He wouldn’t underestimate this woman. He’d give his all—and maybe he could get out of here quickly to meet Rosaria. She was making a long coat for him, something he was supposed to use in his next hunt.

  Zella gestured to the weapon rack. Most of them were some form of sword blades. Sam picked a staff, the closest thing to a spear. He would have chosen a sword, but he didn’t want to be that close to her. She looked fast, and he wasn’t sure what domain she had—martial, magic, or something else? He would need to figure that out quickly and plan accordingly. He twirled the staff, getting a sense of its weight. It was perfect, a balance of weight and length. A flash of the divine spear crossed his mind, increasing his urgency to leave.

  “Are you ready?” Zella asked. Sam nodded, lowering his stance. Before they moved, Bairon raised his hand for attention.

  “I’ll comment on your merits and failures, Samuel. The fight ends when you can’t move anymore or when you land one hit on Zella.” He turned to her. “That should make it interesting, yes?”

  “Perfect,” Zella said with a grin aimed at Sam. Sam took a better look at her, impressed by her fitness. Her short hair and excitement for the duel were almost tangible. “I won’t use anything extra, but you can use everything you’ve got. I don’t mind tricks either. Make it interesting.”

  “I feel a little underestimated,” Sam said, and Bairon laughed. The old man slid down the wall, folded his legs, and settled in to watch the fight. Sam felt the seriousness of the situation in that moment. He had to win, or he wouldn’t be doing anything else. , Sam thought.

  “Begin,” Bairon said, and Sam lunged forward. He held the staff in both hands and swung. He’d watched a short YouTube video on various types of martial arts and tried to imitate what he remembered.

  His swing went wide and high. Zella crouched beneath it and drove forward, closing the gap between them. Sam twirled, continuing the motion, but Zella rammed into him mid-spin. He staggered and crashed to the ground with the staff. Scrambling to retrieve it before she attacked again, he was too slow. Or she was too fast. He dove away from her kick, narrowly saving his nose from impact.

  She paused to pick up his staff, tossing it back with a smile. Sam sighed, trying to calm his nerves. She wasn’t using any specific technique—just speed.

  “Your reflexes are good,” Bairon said. “But your movement control is all over the place. Be careful, or you’ll stumble into a blade.”

  Sam frowned but held his tongue. Zella was poised to attack again, her fist lifted, half-hiding the smile on her face. She was enjoying this, which only annoyed Sam more. He had fought a Lix—fighting a human should be easier.

  Wrong. Zella rushed at him, her body a blur, cutting through the air with precision. She feigned a deep drive but pulled back when he shoved his staff forward. He considered kicking the staff up to intercept, but her potential feint made him hesitate. That split second cost him distance, and she closed in, catching the staff and pulling him toward her. The sudden yank shocked him, but the smack across his face stunned him even more. The sound echoed in the training room. Sam pulled the staff with all his strength, and Zella let him have it. He staggered back from the force, only for her to sweep his legs out from under him.

  Sam hit the ground hard and scrambled to stand, but a punch cracked his chin. He tasted blood as something tore in his mouth. Another fist came down, but he rolled away, the pain ringing in his head. Wild with anger, he charged at her. She effortlessly weaved through his blind attacks, closing in to land a knee to his gut. The world spun as pain rushed up his stomach, knocking the air from his lungs and making him feel sick.

  He gasped, choking and trying to throw up at the same time. He writhed on the ground, bit down on his tongue, and screamed as air rushed back into his bloodied mouth.

  Zella pinned him down, her face coming in and out of focus. Bairon walked over and stood above him, frowning. Sam finally calmed, swallowing the blood in his mouth. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and a silent sob shook him. He closed his eyes, letting himself cry. Through the darkness, he heard Bairon’s voice.

  “You are single-minded. You focus on one thing, one opponent. And you are weak, even with the strength you have. Why? Because you can’t control it. Control your power, control yourself, and then you’ll be strong. You can’t rush through it.”

  Bairon crouched down, his face inches from Sam’s. When Sam opened his eyes, there was a glint in the man’s gaze, something dark and unsettling. Sam feared what lurked within.

  “I think I just got a good idea,” Bairon said, scratching his cheek. “While you search for your domain of self, we’ll let you have as many duels as you want. Perhaps even more than you can handle. Because they will be open to everyone in the city.”

  “What...” Sam coughed, still hurting. Zella helped him stand. She looked sorry, and for a moment, Sam wanted to say something. Instead, he bowed. “Thank you for the duel, Zella.”

  She grinned and nodded, then left. Once she was gone, Sam spun on Bairon, who was grinning.

  “You’re trying to give people the chance to kill me? That defeats the purpose of being here!”

  “No,” Bairon said. “You’re here to protect yourself from any danger—here and out there, right? Your spars will have rules. They can punish you, but they can’t kill you. From these experiences, you’ll hone your strength and senses.” He grinned excitedly. “This is the perfect way to bridge the gap with the people. That is, if you prove you’re worth keeping around. If you show them only this side of yourself, they’ll devour you.”

  “Alecsa won’t agree to this,” Sam said, though he knew she would. She hated him for reasons even Wexi couldn’t explain.

  Bairon laughed. “The only person we’ll need to worry about is Nadia. She’ll be the one patching you up.”

  “Why are you doing this? I can’t tell if it’s to see me suffer or to make me stronger.”

  “Two reasons,” Bairon said, walking past him. “One, this will excite everyone, and the city needs some excitement. And two, I want to see what you can do when you’re truly strong. What you did with crafting was unnatural. Not many people can control a dual-layered stone and craft simultaneously with only a rudimentary understanding of essence and no connection to their essence realm.”

  He chuckled. “I want to see, Samuel Ayer. I want to see how strong you can become.”

  “One more thing,” Sam asked before Bairon stepped out. The man stopped. “You and Alecsa, who’s stronger?”

  Bairon laughed for a long moment before walking away.

  Sam stood in the training hall, soreness his only companion.