The tender, cold night breeze blew timidly, bringing with it a refreshing chill.

  In this nocturnal atmosphere, I'd been chaining strikes in the air, armed with my staff, for over six hours already—all in hopes of calming my mind and... perhaps my heart as well...

  The truth was, it had been a bitter victory, and I hate losing...

  My hands burned, my muscles screamed, my breath was weak, and my mind wasn't in the best state... But rest was a comfort I couldn't afford. After all, there were so many bastards out there who needed to perish by my hands for their actions. Trying not to let my thoughts wander too much, I continued repeating the same movements without interruption, in a graceful and macabre dance.

  Attempting to perfect my martial art in hopes of facing my enemies, I finally stopped, breathless and exhausted.

  —Pant

  Raising my eyes to the stars, I wondered how those before me had managed to create a martial art from nothing? They were truly talented... Me, by comparison, I merely use little tricks. It's cheating.

  Closing my eyes, I got back into position with renewed vigor. There was no success; after all, only repetition and motivation were the key.

  Hearing heavy, imposing footsteps approaching behind me, I finally opened my eyes to see Donavan. And he hadn't come with good intentions... Why always me? Can't he go bother someone else? Just when I was getting back on my feet.

  —What do you want, doggy?

  In the most insolent tone, I turned toward him, staff resting on my shoulders.

  —You really are the worst bastard...

  The giant murmured timidly. Observing him while circling around him, I was impressed by how much someone could change. Compared to the one I'd met back then, he's an angel. The company you keep really does have a big influence on our behavior, apparently.

  —Oh really? I genuinely had no idea about that. Be more original, damn it!

  Deliberately provoking Donavan, knowing he couldn't do anything given the current state of things... or so I thought.

  He who stood a few meters from me lunged toward me in the space of a breath, aiming at my face with a powerful right hook. Fortunately, I was able to block it with a quick parry of my staff.

  —What are you playing at?

  Surprised by his actions, I put myself on guard.

  What had gotten into him?

  —Always strutting around like a king, huh? For someone who doesn't even have what it takes to stand beside Lady Cynthia, you're quite pitiful.

  Shaken for an instant by these words, I couldn't block his powerful knee strike, which sent me stumbling back about two meters.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  —Do you really want to fight?

  Getting back up and positioning myself, I remembered that this person was once a raging beast.

  —You asked for it, didn't you?

  Launching himself with the most impressive explosiveness toward me, he drew his sword this time and tried to slice me in two, aiming for my torso. With a simple backward leap, I barely dodged the attack and immediately retaliated by aiming at his face with a surgical strike, which he simply deflected with his sword.

  —You think so?

  To his great surprise, my foot connected squarely with his face. The strike had been a feint after all, except my kick barely did anything to him.

  I'd almost forgotten he practiced the Templar art, an art that forges the body and transforms it into a weapon of destruction. To put it simply, Donavan has no combat technique; however, what makes him dangerous is that his ether gives him superhuman strength and a body of steel... A real pain. Fortunately, to practice this art, you need a special constitution... the isolated monk constitution, which rendered him sterile.

  —Always with your little tricks!

  He shouted as his blade moved dangerously toward my neck. Suddenly lunging toward the blade instead of backing away, I surprised the knight, making him hesitate for a brief moment.

  Taking advantage of that instant, I imbued my legs with crimson ether and suddenly accelerated forward, catching my opponent off guard, to violently strike him at torso level and make him stumble back a few meters with me.

  —You, bastard.

  About to strike me with the pommel of his sword, he didn't expect to feel slightly weaker, as if his stamina had been drained.

  —Wait... what the!?

  He'd just taken a violent kick to the genitals, meant to knock him out. And to my great surprise, it had no effect...

  —Right, you're sterile...

  Red with rage and shame, he didn't hesitate to attempt the same move on me. Except I'm always prepared. Dodging by jumping backward, I landed just half a meter from him.

  —You truly have neither faith nor law. If it were up to me, I would've already killed you. You're lucky Lady Cynthia told me to spare you, even though she's with Sir Jack.

  Sighing as I listened to him gloat, I wondered why I hadn't buried him with his old gang...

  Wait, what!? What did you just say?

  Vexed by the knight's words, I stood up with a new intention in mind.

  —Seriously, you could've left quietly, but you're going to sleep in the cold tonight.

  I sighed, throwing the staff at him like a powerful javelin, which he dodged by simply shifting slightly to the side.

  —Is that all? Truly pitiful, haha!

  Turning around, he saw only the wind blowing where his opponent had stood just a moment before.

  The world flipped without warning in Donavan's eyes before his head buried itself in the ground, much to his surprise.

  —Pitiful, huh? Look who's talking, tsk!

  Furious, I looked at my opponent knocked out on the ground. Still so distracted, huh? All I had to do was move into your blind spot and suplex you to put you in that state. And all thanks to the fact that your constitution means you have less ether than a normal person... and your inattention.

  —Tsk! I still have progress to make... if it weren't for the element of surprise, I would've just scratched him.

  Murmuring, I kicked him, pulling him from Morpheus's embrace, while wondering why I hadn't killed him back then.

  ...

  In the distance, in the total silence of her room, Cynthia was making a most important call.

  —Good evening, Patriarch Thanatos.

  In the most respectful and calm voice, she greeted the one known as one of the Ten Kings.

  —Good evening, my dear. I received the information you gave me, and I'm not disappointed.

  In an intimidating voice, emanating a form of dominance and inflexibility, he commanded respect.

  —Thank you very much, I'm only fulfilling my duty.

  Cynthia felt oppressed by the patriarch's presence, who was nonetheless only her uncle on the phone. She who had met all sorts of people knew full well that the man on the other end of the line was one of the most dangerous.

  —We already have the essentials. I'm leaving you the rest of the events: whether you want to continue supporting them or stop, the choice is yours. I'll only ask one thing of you... own your choices.

  Cutting the call and leaving Cynthia in the silence of the night, the young woman had already made her decision...