Another ten minutes passed.

Hoshimi Miyabi and Sol Mercer were still exchanging blows at the center of the training ground, their blades clashing without pause.

By now, the stone floor beneath them had completely turned to powder under their sword aura—fine as dust, smooth as silk.

"Looks like right now, I'm only fighting Hoshimi Miyabi to a draw."

Sol watched the ever-advancing, ever-retreating Miyabi and thought silently.

He could clearly feel it—their strengths were evenly matched.

He surpassed Miyabi in sheer power, but she surpassed him in swordsmanship.

From [Yàn Shuāngyīng Template] he had inherited grandmaster-level martial arts, but there was no sword art within it more refined than the Hoshimi Family's secret techniques.

And who could have imagined that Miyabi, barely in her twenties, was already touching the threshold of sword mastery?

Compared to him, a cheat blessed by luck, Miyabi was the true genius.

To keep fighting further held no meaning for him.

He already knew his current standing—his normal self was equal to Miyabi's normal self.

If both fought with everything, Miyabi's destructive power was greater, but the victor would still be him, with his invincible-roll cheat.

"Ah, I really want to stop…"

Sol sighed as he forced Miyabi back once more.

He had lost interest in continuing, but on the other side, Miyabi was becoming more and more exhilarated.

As expected, he wasn't a pure martial artist. He didn't even want to fight on even terms, let alone when the match turned against him.

"Miss Miyabi, we can stop here."

Sol pressed Miyabi back with a slash and spoke earnestly.

Miyabi's charging body halted. She frowned.

"But we haven't decided the victor."

She was at her most excited—feeling her swordsmanship improve rapidly in this clash.

Stopping now left her with an unsatisfied, incomplete feeling.

If possible, she wanted to keep fighting forever.

"If we keep going, I'm afraid I won't be able to hold back, and if I hurt you by accident, that would be bad." Sol explained.

"But I still want to fight." Miyabi's scarlet eyes locked onto Sol, firm and serious.

"Alright… looks like I have no choice but to defeat you."

Sol exhaled a long sigh.

For the two of them to truly decide victory, it would take hours.

Since things had come this far, if he wanted to end it quickly, he would have to turn on his cheat.

"It should be me who defeats you."

Miyabi shook her head, disagreeing.

With their strengths equal, she did not believe she would lose.

In that instant, Miyabi's legs tensed, and she once again charged at Sol.

Mikazuki Munechika swung down in a vicious diagonal slash, brimming with force.

But Sol did not raise his blade to block.

Instead, he rolled forward.

Miyabi's brows knit together at his motion, anxiety flashing across her face.

If he truly didn't want to fight, he could just say so.

She might be reluctant, but she wasn't unreasonable.

Why would he choose such a self-harming way to stop their spar?

If her blade struck without being blocked, Sol would surely be gravely injured.

Miyabi desperately twisted her sword, aiming away from his vital points.

At the last possible moment, the katana fell toward his arm—safe enough not to be lethal.

But… she didn't feel her blade bite into flesh.

Instead, it was as though she struck something inexplicably solid.

What was this?

Her blade couldn't advance even a fraction, nor did it rebound—it was like sinking into water and vanishing.

The strange feedback left Miyabi deeply unsettled.

Invincibility frame from a roll!

Using the opening, Sol slipped to Miyabi's side, his right hand pressing firmly on her slender shoulder.

"I've lost."

Miyabi froze in astonishment at the strength resting on her shoulder.

Her grip on Mikazuki Munechika relaxed, and she conceded crisply.

If Sol could place his hand on her shoulder, he could just as easily place a blade at her throat.

Though she couldn't understand why her sword had felt so strange just now—or why Sol was unscathed after taking her strike—defeat was defeat.

"Miss Miyabi, you're really straightforward. In swordsmanship, at best we're equals."

Sol smiled, refraining from claiming superiority.

As he began to withdraw his hand from Miyabi's shoulder, a dangerous thought flickered in his mind.

What if—just if—he used [Lightning-Shadow Hand] right now, pressing her shoulder?

He couldn't help but wonder.

What kind of reaction would the ever-serious Miyabi have under that bugged massage technique?

No, no—that wouldn't be right.

Sol shook his head, smothering the idea.

But then—to his horror—something unseen seized his hand, forcing it down against Miyabi's shoulder, activating [Lightning-Shadow Hand].

In that instant, he understood everything.

He was under the gaze of the Aeon of Elation.

Damn you, Aha!

"Mmh~"

A low, vulpine murmur of pleasure slipped from Miyabi's lips.

A jolt of electricity ran from her shoulder through her whole body.

The tension from their battle melted away, replaced by blissful relaxation.

Like soaking in a hot spring.

Like lying atop clouds.

The sensation was beyond description.

Thump!

Miyabi slumped softly against Sol, a faint blush rising on her face.

"What… what technique is that? Why is it so fast?"

Her eyes gazed up at him, a mixture of confusion and shame.

Why did just one press cause such a change in her body?

This was the first time she had ever experienced such a feeling—her first time in such closeness with a man.

Even with her usual calm composure, she could not endure it fully.

"I'm sorry—that was my fault just now." Sol explained quickly, feeling the warmth and softness in his arms.

"This is a special martial art. It increases hand speed. I've trained it until it's like instinct… I slipped by accident."

"A… special martial art? Your hand really was fast…"

Miyabi steadied herself, rising with Mikazuki Munechika planted to the floor.

She recalled the sensation—dozens of precise forces pressing into her shoulder in an instant.

It truly was fast.

If used in swordsmanship, it would be an invaluable technique.

She thought back to their fight.

Sol wielded a heavy long blade ill-suited for quick strikes.

But if he switched to a smaller katana like hers, with such speed, his swordsmanship would easily surpass hers.

And that strange sensation… she did not blame Sol for it. She blamed herself for being too weak.

If she had resisted properly, she wouldn't have leaned against him.

She made up her mind.

She would begin a new training—enduring such sensations without letting them show.

Her scarlet eyes glanced at Sol Mercer.

But such training would need his cooperation… would he agree?

While Miyabi was lost in thought, Tsukishiro Yanagi, Asaba Harumasa, and Soukaku had already surrounded them.