Chapter 472: Sharpening Fangs

Morning light slipped through the blinds, cutting across the penthouse master bedroom. The faint smell of ointment and sweat still lingered, where Leona had fallen asleep half-curled against him after their arousal became too strong.

She sleeps so peacefully…

Before they came to bed, Leona made sure he called Selene, Kumiko and Nikita, who were enjoying a day out to the cinema with the entire second maid team.

Nikita sounded delighted. I need to hurry and return.

I miss her.

Nikolai stretched carefully, brushing strands of her orange hair from his jaw. For a fleeting moment, peace almost felt possible.

Then his phone vibrated.

The phone number drained all sense of delight and peace from his expression.

[Arena Master – Next Fight!]

[New Opponent Confirmed – Arena Main Stage, 21:00]

[Designation: Elder Wyrick]

Nikolai’s expression hardened because he recognised that name; it wasn’t some random stray but a member of the Silver Clan. The bastards didn’t plan to give him any breathing room.

He exhaled slowly, setting the phone down before it disturbed Leona.

No time to relax… I need to sharpen myself.

Nikolai grabbed a sheet and covered the beautiful woman in their quilt before lifting her onto the soft pillows and standing with a crack. Nikolai then headed towards the doors, looking back at Leona twice with a smile of gratitude.

The penthouse stirred with voices when he left the room.

Inside the living room, he found Clara eating something at the counter. Ryan rubbed his eyes while watching television on the couch, and Anya strutted around in a checkered dress and thigh-highs.

The mood was deceptively warm and comfortable.

Until Nikolai’s thoughts sharpened like blades.

“We’ll be training today,” he announced in a firm voice. “All of you will join me. No excuses.”

Ryan blinked, confused.

Clara froze while eating her bagel.

Anya tilted her head with a sly grin, with both thumbs up.

“Training?” Ryan muttered, his eyes darting between Clara and Nikolai.

“Yes,” Nikolai said flatly. “If I keep getting Elders thrown at me, I am just going to collapse… I need to do everything possible to grow stronger. You too, the Lamia, she’s dangerous, right?” His eyes swept across them. “You all need to learn how to fight beside me, not behind me.”

“I’ll give you an hour to shower, dress and prepare yourselves.”

Anya watched him quietly, remembering the fight… her hands hugging her chest as she brushed back her hair, tying it with hairbands. “Then you better not cry when we beat you, darling.”

***

The training hall beneath the penthouse echoed the moment Nikolai opened it.

A wide space of reinforced stone and steel, carved sigils in the walls dampened noise and damage spillover, built specifically so supernaturals and awakened could fight without tearing the building apart.

He stepped onto the mat first, bare-chested, stretching as his aura simmered around the edges of his body like smoke to fire.

“Man, do we really have to fight?” Ryan tensed at the sight.

“Warm up,” Nikolai ordered.

Anya scoffed, tossing her hair back. “What are we, kids in gym class?”

His glare cut to her. “Move your body before I move it for you.”

Despite his fierce tone, she blushed and gave up arguing.

“Why does the thought of that make me wet…” She clicked her tongue but dropped into stretches. Clara, obedient as ever, sat cross-legged off to the side with a notebook, prepared to record observations. Her wings fluttered faintly, black eyes fixed on Nikolai like he was the only thing in the room.

Nikolai didn’t know Clara’s strength or if she was a combat type; thus, he focused mainly on Ryan and Anya.

Ryan started with push-ups, forcing a steady rhythm as his arms shook.

Nikolai circled behind him, crouching low, one hand pressing against Ryan’s back to double the weight. “Too slow,” Nikolai growled. “If you can’t handle me leaning on you, how will you stand against someone trying to tear you apart?”

“Gh—shut… up—!” Ryan grit his teeth, sweat pouring as he fought through it.

Anya smirked down at him, stretching with feline grace. “Poor puppy. Want me to cheer you on?”

Ryan shot her a glare, but Nikolai cut in first. “Save your breath. Leech!”

When Anya turned to mock him too, Nikolai suddenly closed the distance, slamming his palm against her stomach just hard enough to knock the wind out of her.

She stumbled back, choking. “Bastard!”

“Oh? You wanna go?”

Nikolai smiled at her fighting pose, clearly a lady of the Tepes clan who used the Krav fighting style when duelling. Anya was the first to lunge. Her foot clicked once on the mat before she blurred, coat of blood-red aura snapping into place as her fists gleamed under the training lights. She aimed for his throat with a sharp killing blow.

Nikolai didn’t move until she was nearly on him.

His hand shot up, catching her wrist mid-swipe and smashing her ribs with his other hand, mimicking the Krav style. He twisted, dragging her momentum wide, and with a flick of his leg, he swept hers from under her and flung her to the ground. Her back slammed against the mat, ass first.

She hissed as she hit the mat hard, bouncing once before rolling back to her feet.

“Tch… I wasn’t ready—”

“Bullshit!”

Ryan saw an opening and rushed forward, using a steel pipe like a spear, a faint aura flickering around the tip. He jabbed for Nikolai’s ribs, putting all his weight behind it.

Although he had excellent form, his timing was sloppy.

With a sidestep, the spear grazed the air. Ryan barely registered the miss before Nikolai’s elbow crashed against his shoulder, sending him flying.

“Nice try, too slow.”

“Damn you!” Anya shouted, springing forward again. Her claws flashed in a wide arc, forcing Nikolai to block. The clash sparked red against black as their auras collided, sending shockwaves through the chamber.

Her knee shot up, aiming for his abdomen with a vicious attack.

Pah! Nikolai’s shin lifted, deflecting the blow.

“Ngh…!” Anya grunted in pain, but she continued to press harder, her speed forcing Nikolai to parry before his heel slammed back into Ryan’s spear shaft with enough force that he almost lost grip.

The weapon rattled, arms numbing from the impact.

“You’re both too direct, try to hide your aims,” Nikolai said calmly, almost bored. “Show me something worth my time.”

Nikolai stopped defending.

He would only avoid the attacks, trying to push them further.

His aura pulsed outward in waves, black fire spilling across the mat like a living shadow.

The temperature in the room dropped, every flicker of light trembling against the oppressive weight. Anya froze mid-swipe, her claws poised inches from his chest. Ryan’s spear felt suddenly heavier in his grip, his aura sputtering as if smothered.

“Can you see it now?” Nikolai’s voice rumbled like thunder. “This is what a real fight feels like. If you can’t overcome the pressure, then you’ll die.”

Anya bit her lip, sinking her teeth far enough to draw blood.

She ducked to avoid Nikolai’s sweep, her claws raking for his stomach.

Ryan sucked in the cold air, making ragged breaths and hurled his spear, its tip glowing faintly as he pushed every drop of energy into the throw.

Nikolai tilted his head.

The claws scraped against his ribs, barely leaving a red line, while his hand snapped up and plucked the spear from the air like catching a child’s toy.

He turned it slowly in his palm before thrusting the butt into Anya’s stomach.

She choked and staggered back, knees buckling. With a twist, he spun the spear toward Ryan, striking him across the jaw with the flat shaft. Ryan collapsed, spitting blood, vision spinning.

“A little better.” He slowly reduced the pressure of his aura, allowing them to fight better. If they made a mistake, he increased it. This helped Nikolai to control and manifest his aura without delay, while Anya and Ryan could get experience with a high-intensity fight.

Anya forced herself upright, her hair plastered to her sweaty face. Ryan rolled to his knees, teeth gritted, blood dripping from his lip. The two of them didn’t lose their fighting spirits and quickly pulled themselves up.

“?”

That’s when they moved as a pair for the first time.

Ryan gripped his spear and lunged forward, thrusting towards Nikolai’s chest. Meanwhile, Anya’s speed allowed her to vanish for a moment in the same instant she appeared mid-air behind Nikolai, aiming for his neck.

For the first time, Nikolai felt the faintest thrill of danger.

He shifted to parry Ryan’s spear, only to sense Anya’s claws closing in from behind. She’d timed it perfectly with her brother’s attack. “Much better,” he growled, twisting. His arm snapped up, deflecting the spear aside, but Anya’s claws sliced through his shoulder, a deep line forming as she spun on the spot.

They both froze, startled.

Nikolai glanced at the faint wound, then back at their stunned faces. His lips curled into a wolfish grin. “That’s more like it. But don’t celebrate yet.”

His aura almost seemed to explode… with shadows coiling around his body like a storm.

The pressure alone drove them back a step, sweat dripping down their brows.

Clara gasped softly from the sidelines, clutching her dress. “He’s not even serious yet…”

Nikolai straightened, black flames licking his arms. “Next round… I’ll stop holding back.”