No! This couldn't be true! There was no way this could be happening. They didn't feel resentment or hatred toward each other—there was no animosity, no bitterness. So there shouldn't be absolutely anything between them!
Arthur clenched his teeth.
Now was not the time to think about that.
He needed to focus on the battle; the Master deeply despised it when someone became distracted during combat. Any slip, no matter how small, was punished without mercy.
Focus…
Focus…
Arthur closed his eyes for a brief moment, taking a deep breath as he felt the blood boiling inside his body. It was dragon blood. The Dragon's blood had already fused almost perfectly with his body, becoming an inseparable part of his existence. Even though a portion of it was still missing, the power he already possessed was, by itself, terrifying.
Scáthach, on the other hand, seemed completely oblivious to Arthur's unusual behavior. Her gaze briefly drifted away from him and settled on Nessa.
"Take Arthur back," she said casually. "He's probably already past his limit."
After saying this, Scáthach turned around, ready to leave the training field, as if the outcome had already been decided.
But then—
"Master, where are you looking?"
The sound of something shattering echoed violently.
The ice spike restraining Arthur exploded into countless fragments, scattering through the air like crystalline shards. In the next instant, Arthur lunged forward and threw a direct punch at Scáthach.
She reacted purely on reflex.
She raised her spear, and the blow struck the shaft head-on with a dull, heavy sound. Even so, the force behind the attack was enough to push her back several steps.
Scáthach planted her feet firmly on the ground and raised her gaze to the boy before her.
For the first time, her eyes showed genuine surprise.
"Energy overload…?"
"Arthur's progress is simply excessive…" Nessa murmured as she watched closely. She clicked her tongue, visibly impressed. "Just a few months ago, he was already out of breath after only a few movements. But now… he's a completely different person. It seems he awakened his true potential after absorbing that Dragon essence…"
Moreover, this power overload was clearly different from Cú Chulainn's.
Nessa analyzed Arthur carefully.
He was now in a state of controlled rage. His skin had taken on a pale, cold tone. His eyes glowed with an intense, predatory yellow, while his golden hair had turned into a radiant platinum blond under the light.
His power had leaped absurdly upon entering this state.
This was Arthur's true power in his Berserker form.
At the same time, the passive effect of the Sun God's blessing activated instantly. Arthur felt it with absolute clarity: despite the surge of power, his mind remained lucid. He would not lose his sanity.
After entering this state, his strength increased drastically, and his senses were heightened to a frightening level.
Arthur could now perceive things that had previously escaped him.
He felt the gazes of the disciples outside the arena. The rhythm of Nessa's breathing. The flow of air around him.
And likewise—
He felt something strange.
Arthur suddenly stopped, his eyes widening.
The Master… isn't breathing?
No.
It wasn't that Scáthach wasn't breathing—she was controlling the rhythm of her own breathing with absolute precision.
Despite having fought him for so long, Scáthach kept her breathing steady and unchanged, as if the battle required no effort at all.
Scáthach observed the changes in Arthur with heightened attention. The surprise on her face lasted only an instant, soon replaced by a faint smile.
"It seems you've been far too relaxed during your training with me lately," she said. "This is the first time I've seen you in this state. So… this is your true power?"
She raised her spear once more.
"Everyone else may withdraw. I will test Arthur's current combat strength one more time."
The other disciples let out immediate sighs of relief. Some cast looks of pure sympathy toward Arthur.
So what if his physical strength had improved? He would still be "tortured" by the Master.
In fact, it was moments like these when the advantage of having less endurance became evident. Scáthach would never force someone to continue training after reaching total exhaustion.
Arthur, on the other hand…
Arthur was always forced to go to the absolute limit.
One by one, the disciples left the training field. Only Nessa remained, silently observing the master and the disciple who continued to face each other.
Arthur did not say a single word.
From beginning to end, he fought Scáthach with everything he had.
Of course, this was only possible because Scáthach deliberately held back, allowing him to remain standing longer.
Even so, it was already extraordinary.
In the past, Arthur would have given up much earlier. Now, however, he could persevere for a long time, sustained by his newfound power.
"You used to complain constantly during training," Scáthach commented after several minutes of relentless exchanges. With a precise kick, she sent Arthur flying backward. He took a few steps back, regained his balance, and raised his gaze. "Why haven't you said a word today?"
"If continuing to fight until exhaustion can make you feel better… then I'll fight gladly," Arthur replied in a calm, steady tone.
At some point during the fight, he had already switched from the spear to a sword.
Some time ago, Arthur had realized that he had far more affinity with the sword than with the spear. Although his training with it was recent, his skill already rivaled what he had with the spear.
The difference was that, unlike the spear, this sword was just an ordinary weapon.
"One of my original goals in wanting to become stronger was precisely this," Arthur continued.
"The purpose of becoming stronger?" Scáthach repeated, curious.
"Perhaps part of the reason you find life so boring, Master, is because you've been at the top for far too long… and have never seen anyone climb up from the very bottom."
Arthur clenched his fist tightly.
"So, Master… just watch me slowly climb to the top."
For a moment, the field fell silent.
Then—
"Very well."
A faint smile appeared on Scáthach's perpetually cold face. There was a subtle glimmer of affection in her eyes as she looked at Arthur.
"I'm glad my disciple has reached that conclusion, then…"
She paused briefly.
"Originally, I planned to let you go back and rest. But since you're so determined, let's add three more training sessions."
"…"
Arthur remained silent for a few seconds.
Then:
"Master… I take everything I said back, alright?"
He had thought that, at most, it would only be one more session.
He never imagined it would be three.
"Too late!" Scáthach shouted. "Raise your weapon, Arthur!"
And amid his master's thunderous voice, Arthur's cry of pain echoed throughout the entire training field.
---
(End of the chapter)