CHAPTER 132: BABY GIRL~

"Quite not as fast as me now, don’t you think?" His tone was cool, edged with mockery. An eyebrow lifted in deliberate provocation.

Sylva’s green eyes slid toward him. She didn’t move or argue

"Do not take his words to heart," the voice interrupted before she could even decide whether to respond. "He is simply provoking you. The weak-minded always seek to pull others down to their level. Rise above your race, your rivals, and even your idols. Only then will you hold yourself stronger than any being."

Sylva remained silent, her focus drawing inward again.

"And understand this: you are already fast enough. Five hundred meters per second faster than the speed of sound. No human, by natural means, could achieve such speed and remain in control. And you unlike an elemental have mass, muscle, and a body vulnerable to the air’s resistance. Pushing further without balance would tear you apart."

She pouted.

"Speed is not simply about moving faster," the voice continued, patient but unyielding. "It is the perfect marriage of movement, perception, reaction, and control. You do not simply need to go fast you must carry the elements with you, as extensions of yourself change direction attack and ofcourse change directions. If even one of those aspects falters, your speed becomes your enemy."

Sylva’s eyes narrowed, thoughtful despite herself.

"Flying is no different," the voice said. "A bird takes to the sky only with confidence in its wings. If those wings were liable to fail mid-flight, no bird would risk the air. Understand there are aspects of yourself that must be perfect before you trust them at higher limits."

Sylva gave an exaggerated sigh, the kind that came from hearing a lecture for the thousandth time. "Yes, yes. You’ve explained this countless times." Her lips pressed together for a moment before she added, almost like a sulking child, "And didn’t he just move at almost the same speed seconds ago? All without the help of lightning or wind?"

The voice’s reply was immediate, firm. "At most, he reached two hundred and fifty to three hundred meters per second. That is far from your maximum. And no it was not purely physical speed."

"I still do not know the exact method," the voice admitted. "But there are... hints. Subtle ones."

Sylva’s pouting expression faltered. "...Go on... No wait ..i know leme guess you just correct me"

She broke the silence first, her voice even but carrying a faint edge of satisfaction. "He only moves when tapping the ground. Always." She tilted her head slightly, watching his posture as if dissecting it in her mind. "And once he moves, he can’t change direction until his foot touches down again, wherever he planned to land. That’s his pivot point."

The voice in her head stayed silent, letting her speak.

"And this is the part I’m seventy percent sure about.. he’s using sound somehow." She lifted one hand and snapped her fingers, as if marking the thought. "Every time, he only appears at the very end of the distance where the sound from his movement travels andis about to end and that exact point he appears. Like he’s measuring by it. Which is... weird, even for me."

Her wings shifted slightly as she hovered, eyes narrowing in thought. "Speed of sound travels somewhere in that range too, so it’s logical. But... creating a sound that precise? And knowing exactly where it will end? Even with my hearing preception which is among the best you’ll find.. I couldn’t do it that perfectly."

Then she tilted her head toward the unseen mentor. "Oh, I didn’t miss anything, right?" she asked in a deliberately casual tone, almost like a student showing off to their teacher. "Also... how’s his reaction speed so good? Even if he reaches that speed, awareness is another matter. I can tell his perception’s almost equal to mine maybe stronger. But how does his body react so perfectly? Like it’s doing exactly what he wants, every time at that point of Speed.. I know how hard it is when i move?"

The voice finally responded. "Yes. Good. You’ve noticed most of it. As for his fast bodily reaction and precision... that comes from battle experience. And not just any true battlefield experience. His stance, his movement economy, the way he turns his head without wasting motion... I can tell he’s fought as if his life depended on it, over and over again. Armies, duels, maybe both. All physical."

A beat of silence. "If it came down to a fight without mana, without elemental power just skill" the voice’s tone was brutally honest, "he could wipe the ground with your face. Possibly the whole of your family, in one go. TOGETHER~"

Sylva’s lips twitched, part amusement and part annoyance. "...That honest, huh?"

"Painful truths are still truths," the voice said without a hint of softness.

"Well, battlefield experience isn’t surprising here," Sylva replied with a shrug. "He’s from that inbred family, after all. Every last one of them is drilled in combat far beyond what anyone else in this empire can manage. They don’t even bother training with the Imperial army because they are the strongest martial unit in the empire."

Her gaze flicked to Razeal’s eyes. "...But then again his eyes aren’t purple. So how did he use that? By what you’re telling me, he shouldn’t have this level of battlefield experience with that broken ability of there’s. Not to this extent. How?"

"I don’t know that either," the voice admitted. "But he has it. Unusual, very high-level combat instinct. That much is certain."

Sylva’s tone flattened. "...Alright then. Let it be. There’s only so much experience matters when you’re fighting against absolute power."

Her eyes cooled. The air around her began to hum. "If it’s not about speed anymore..." A faint, dangerous smile curved her lips. "...then I’ll just show him what suppression really is."

The lightning cracked once more

Buzzzzzz!

And she was gone.

Razeal didn’t flinch. His hands stayed in his pockets, his expression mild. But in his eyes, there was a glint of acknowledgment.

"Ohhh... they’re teaching her well," he murmured under his breath. "And she learns fast."

The pressure in the air shifted, the presence coming toward him feeling entirely different now. No more frantic zigzags. No more hundredfold wild swings. This attack was focused, deliberate. A predator’s strike or a child’s tantrum.

Sylva appeared before him mid-swing

but this time, as her blade cut into the space he called his Untouchability, something changed.

The sword shimmered.

No shifted.

In the span of a blink, the weapon in her hands became a prism of raw, shifting power its blade carrying not just wind and lightning, but a dozen different elements, each layered at a different density, weight, and velocity. vines danced along one edge, frost traced the other, earth rippled beneath the metal, while water and fire twined together along its spine.

Each element wasn’t just decoration they were moving differently. Every slice carried conflicting speeds, varying weights, distinct elemental signatures.

Razeal’s brow ticked upward in recognition. "...Oh the famous rainbow sword of faerelith’s"

She had turned her sword into a nightmare of calculations.

His Untouchability was a matter of mathematics and prediction factoring velocity, force, and trajectory into a system that redirected incoming strikes. But now? This wasn’t one strike. This was dozens, all layered in the same swing, each demanding its own prediction.

He could see the trick instantly. And he knew exactly what it meant. "She’s trying to fry my brain," he muttered with a dry half-smile. "And... it might actually work."

For a brief moment, his mental formulas scrambled, trying to accommodate the chaos.

Too many variables. Too little time too.

The sword entered his Untouchability space

and for the first time, it didn’t simply slide harmlessly away.

Sylva felt it too. That familiar redirected slip... stopped. Cut off mid-process, like a rope snapping.

Her grin widened, a spark of triumph flashing in her eyes. Something between a smirk and a threat. She was so close now so sure she had him in reach that her words came out in a low, venomous whisper, more promise than taunt.

"Got you... cute little boy. I’m going to break that cocky face of yours."

Her sword, alive with a dozen roaring elements, tore through the air toward him in a perfect killing arc. The air screamed under the weight of it.

But before steel and magic could meet flesh

"Shadow Defence... activated."

Razeal’s voice was soft, almost conversational. The faint curl of a smile tugged at his lips as he said it, as though he were announcing something trivial.

Then the floor beneath him seemed to shift.

A pool of shadow spread out from his feet, perfectly still for the span of a breath before it rose, smooth and soundless, into a thin vertical wall. It looked like nothing more than an extension of the darkness at his feet, except for the subtle shimmer along its edges that marked it as something... other.

Sylva’s brows furrowed in surprise, but her sword did not slow. "Huh...?"

The moment of confusion didn’t last. Her blade met the shadow head-on

and passed through it like a hot knife through butter.

There was no resistance, no shudder, no clash of power just the clean, effortless glide of her edge through the strange black barrier. The bisected halves of the shadow wall slid apart, already losing shape.

Of course it couldn’t hold Her strike wasn’t just fast it was packed with so many elemental signatures, so much raw destructive energy, that it would take something absurdly reinforced to block it. And she certainly had elemental advantage over it too.

He is only at... Medium elemental affinity. An attack with that speed and power, filled with dozens of elemental forces... nothing could withstand it.

She’s probably advance proficiency in every element she’s using, Razeal thought, watching his shadow wall being split apart.

And yet before the halves could fully fall away something unexpected happened.

The shadow didn’t die.

From the severed edge, the darkness rippled like liquid, flowing back together as if the cut had never happened. The black wall knit itself whole again in seconds, returning to its original, pristine shape.

I knew it, his expression giving nothing away. Nothing is to be trusted forever. Razeal thought looking at his wall getting cut off

But still looking at sword coming

He exhaled slowly, almost like he was bored, then spread the fingers of his right hand.

A deep red aura, thick as fresh blood, began to leak from his palm. It wasn’t a glow so much as a stain something alive, something heavy. The air seemed to warp around it, and the ground at his feet darkened as if the color was bleeding into the world. An eerie aura apearing around. Might as well send shivers to weaker creatures

His palm opened fully.

BOOOOOOM!

And splattered~

Blood splattered in a violent burst, striking the stone with a wet fluchhh as it spread across the ground.

A shockwave tore out from Razeal’s position in every direction, a rippling wall of force that made the entire arena shudder. For a moment, even the protective barrier surrounding the areana flickered and trembled, its edges warping under the pressure.

Behind Razeal, the stone floor began to crumble. Cracks spiderwebbed out from beneath his feet, small fractures at first, then widening until entire slabs split apart and ground turned to loose gravel. The destruction spread outward like something alive, devouring the arena floor.

"Ohhh... quite strong, you annoying woman."

Razeal’s gaze locked onto Sylva’s, his voice steady almost amused.

Her eyes were wide, shock flooding them so openly it made her expression twitch. She could barely process what she was seeing.

He’s a monster...

Even the mysterious voice inside her mind spoke in unison with its other echoes, all three breaking their usual composure.

An actual monster.

Sylva’s thoughts blurred into disbelief. Just... how?

The question stretched in her mind as she stared at the sight in front of her.

He had taken her strike.

With one hand.

Her sword, crafted entirely from a complex weave of elemental energies fast, deadly, and sharp enough to pierce the hide of an eighth-ranked beast was caught firmly in his palm. And he wasn’t straining, wasn’t staggering... just holding it there.

A deep red aura coiled around his hand, thick and heavy like liquid blood, the edges of it flickering as if it were alive. His skin was scorched, blackened in some places, with a deep gash splitting the center of his palm. Blood dripped steadily from it, falling to the ground in dark drops.

And yet he still held her blade, unflinching.

Slowly, her eyes rose to meet his face.

And her breath caught.

He was grinning.

Not with madness, not with rage just that same lazy, cocky grin he’d worn from the start.

"Ohhh, don’t be scared baby girl~," Razeal said, voice calm, almost teasing. "You see... I’ve got some strong bones."

A sharp inhale escaped her before she could stop it. "ghasp"

Her heartbeat thundered in her ears at sudden realisation. Forty thousand times the pain at the very least and he was smiling through it.

He’s... a fucking monster.

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3.6k words

Sorry, guys, I’m late. The day before, I went shopping because I was busy doing admissions for both my brothers, and then did a bit of some shopping. When I came back home, I just crashed slept, because I hadn’t slept the night before... (Literally slept 12 hours woke up next day directly)

And today, I helped my little brother buy a small bike, and we also did some shopping for college clothes so that’s why I’m late.

Anyway, thank you so much, guys, really~

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