After exercising for hours, I collapsed on the floor, my whole body covered in sweat. My heartbeat was moving fast as if my heart wanted to rip out of my chest, and my breathing was heavy.
My whole body hurt from head to toes. The fact that we have to do it every single day sends shivers down my spine.
Thud—
I heard the sound of a body hitting the ground. I looked to my left and saw the sorry state of my younger brother, Athelstan, drenched in sweat too, knocked out, his face was facing the floor.
It seems like he fell unconscious and hit the ground with his face. There was a red mark on his forehead that made him look funny.
"Pff-" I tried to suppress my laugh, but it was too late; my chest ached from that action, and I soon regretted laughing.
"Urgh, damned training," he said, a bunch of curses in his head. If Genevieve heard this, she wouldn't believe her sweet son already knew many curses.
Well, that's gonna hurt when he wakes u-
As soon as I formed those thoughts, Athelstan screamed, "Fuuuuuuuuuuckkkkk!"
Ah fuck only the gods knew how hard I was trying to hold back my laugh so much that it hurt my stomach. This was the first time I heard Athelstan curse loudly. Oh well, I guess I'm becoming a bad influence on my brother. Mom is going to kill us if she hears this...
"Uncle Jian is a demon, he made me repeat it 2 times! Yes, he is a fucking demon!" Athelstan said, but before he continued to curse, I interrupted him.
"You know he is still here, right?" I said.
"n-no way." After hearing my words, he froze and slowly looked to his left, far at the resting seats.
Jian was seated with his legs crossed, one on top of the other, while he drank tea and read a book. He wasn't wearing his training suit anymore; he was wearing a black shirt, black pants, and black sleepers. The Schattens were quite the gothic people.
"Oh, so you have enough energy to curse, that means you can run more laps, right?" Uncle Jian smiled as he spoke, "Come on, three more laps for you, Athelstan."
"Please have mercy," Athelstan begged, but Jian ignored him and said, "If you don't do it, I'll report you to your mother that you just cursed at your favourite uncle," he smirked.
After hearing that Athelstan stood up, albeit with immense difficulty, he looked like a puppet being controlled by an inexperienced puppeteer.
He started running again. Uncle Jian and I laughed as we saw him running at the mention of our mom. I guess he'd rather run than get scolded by our mother.
After an hour, we were walking back toward the mansion, legs trembling and wobbling. Athelstan wrapped his left hand on my shoulder as I helped him walk, since he couldn't walk anymore.
After reaching the mansion, we both parted ways and went to our rooms, as we both had to wash up for dinner. I opened the doors of my room, got in, and closed them.
As I step into my room, the spaciousness greets me right away.
The high ceiling adds to the space's openness, with a beautiful chandelier casting a warm glow throughout. Large windows let in natural moonlight, covered by heavy curtains that can be drawn for privacy.
The walls are painted in a rich color, maybe a deep blue or warm burgundy. In the center, a big wooden dining table is perfect for gatherings, surrounded by tall, inviting chairs.
A soft, plush sofa sits in one corner, paired with cozy armchairs and a stylish coffee table adorned with bright flowers.
Bookshelves line one wall, filled with books and interesting decorative items, adding a personal touch to the room. A lovely piece of artwork hangs prominently, adding character to the space.
The king-size bed commands attention with its elegant four-poster design. Thick curtains can be drawn around it, creating a cozy retreat. The bed is layered with soft pillows and a beautifully embroidered quilt, inviting you to sink in and relax.
I walked towards the shower room and entered. A luxurious bath area features a deep soaking tub that looks incredibly inviting. It's surrounded by polished tiles and equipped with elegant fixtures, creating a peaceful oasis for unwinding after a long day.
Overall, the room blends comfort with elegance, making it a perfect sanctuary. I removed my clothes and sank my body in the bathtub. The moment I touched the water, it washed away my fatigue, even though my bones still ached. "Ah, just what I needed," I murmured with my eyes closed.
After I was done bathing, I put on clean clothes and left my room, heading to the dining room. I entered the dining room and found Athelstan already seated at the table on a seat next to our mom.
"Aw, my baby, come here." She opened her arms and gestured to hug her.
I hugged her and she hugged me tightly, causing my sore body to ache "ow! Mom, don't hug too tight, my body is still hurting," I said
"Sorry, dear," she loosened the hug.
"It's okay, Mom," I replied with a smile.
And then I went to hug grandma too, who was on the table alongside Asa and Leon, whose black hair was a bit burned.
It seemed as if she had already gotten her retribution on him for his act during the day.
"It seems that you already met the training demon, but don't worry, that was only the beginning, more painful training is coming your way hehehe," Asa teased, while Leon nodded his head in agreement. Leon rarely agrees with Asa; if he does, it means she has actually spoken the truth.
I sat next to Athelstan and served myself some food, then started eating.
"Is Dad still busy?" I asked mom
"Yes, dear, he is currently at the border that our family oversees and protects. Apparently, a horror creature of the sovereignty rank was spotted near the border, so he had to check since he is a sovereign himself, but he should be on his way soon. " Genevieve said
"Will he be fine?" I asked
my grandpa, who replied, 'he will, he's strong after all, and a battle maniac at that, like his brothers."
"But the beast might cause him a bit of trouble," she said,
"but would he lose?" I asked
"Nah, he'd win," she replied
*****************
At the southern border of the human empire of Lovrein, a thousand kilometers past the great wall, a white-haired man floated in the still air.
The evening sky was a deep, bruised purple, the fading light casting long shadows over the scarred land.
He was wearing an all-black outfit: a long black trench coat that fluttered in the wind, a black shirt, black pants, and black army boots. It was Vladimir.
His crimson eyes scanned the scene below: the shattered remnants of a surveillance outpost, now silent.
His gaze finally settled on the figure standing amidst the rubble. It wore the form of a man—short black hair, dark slit eyes that held no blink, no life. To any lesser observer, the disguise would have been perfect.
But Vladimir was a sovereign; he saw the truth beneath the skin. This was no man. It was a Skinwalker.
It was the reason the outpost was empty; its personnel had been evacuated. The things that wore human skin were always the most unsettling.
A low chuckle echoed from below. "A strong human. I imagine your flesh will be rich," the Skinwalker said, its voice a gravelly distortion.
It ran a tongue over needle-sharp fangs. Monsters that could speak were always more dangerous; it meant age, power, and a cruel intelligence.
Vladimir's attention shifted to his wristwatch. 7:54 PM. Six minutes until dinner was to start at home. Six minutes would be enough.
"Do not ignore me!" the creature snarled, its composure cracking. "I will feast on you. I will grind your bones—"
The sentence ended in a shock of air and a sickening crack. Vladimir's fist connected with his jaw, a blow so swift it was seen only in its result.
The Skinwalker hurtled backward, crashing into the earth and carving a furrow through the stone and soil.
"You talk too much," Vladimir stated, now standing where the creature had been.
A guttural laugh rasped from the crater. "Kekekeke. A struggle makes the meal more satisfying." The Skinwalker drove its own hand into its chest and pulled, drawing forth a blade of weeping darkness, forged from corrupted souls it had consumed.
Vladimir's eyes swept the ground. He bent and picked up a fallen soldier's sword, its steel plain and notched. He tested its weight.
"Arrogance!" the Skinwalker spat. "You believe that scrap of metal can harm me?"
Vladimir said nothing. He glanced at his watch once more.
Silence fell, heavy and absolute. The only sound was a low rumble of thunder gathering in the distance, a promise of a coming storm.
They moved.
There was no warning. One moment, they were still; the next, the air itself tore where they had stood. To a human eye, it would have seemed they simply vanished.
They met in the center of the ruined outpost. Sword clashed against sword in a shower of white and black sparks.
The resulting shockwave pulverized the ground beneath their feet and split the air with a deafening crack.
Their battle became a storm of motion. They were streaks of color—Vladimir a blur of white and black, the Skinwalker a smear of deep violet.
They wove through the ruins, and everything they passed was unmade. Stone shattered. The earth ruptured.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
The rhythm of their conflict was the only sound they could hear.
Vladimir flowed into an opening, his blade angling for the creature's ribs. The Skinwalker twisted its dark sword to parry, but Vladimir was already turning, the momentum of his blocked strike becoming a devastating kick to its chest.
The impact was solid, a dull thud of force that drove the air from the creature's lungs and sent it staggering back, black blood spraying from its lips.
It flipped, landing with unnatural grace. "You are tougher than I—"
The words died as Vladimir closed the distance. His fist, moving faster than sound, connected with the Skinwalker's face.
The creature shot backward like a projectile, carving a trench across a kilometer of earth. It stabbed its corrupted blade into the ground to halt its momentum, but before it could rise, Vladimir was there.
Energy crackled around Vladimir now, a nimbus of golden lightning that snapped and hummed. He drove an uppercut into the creature's torso, launching it high into the darkening sky.
Vladimir ascended faster, meeting the creature's flight. He swung the notched soldier's sword down in a clean, lethal arc. Instinct alone saved the Skinwalker; it threw up a barrier of wailing, purple energy.
The sword slammed into it, and though it held, the sheer force of the blow blasted the creature back to earth. It struck the ground like a meteor.
"Is that all?" Vladimir asked. He hovered high above, his clothes pristine, his expression dispassionate. Below, the Skinwalker rose from its new crater, its borrowed body already knitting together cuts and bruises, its clothing in tatters.
With a snarl that ripped the air, the Skinwalker vanished. It reappeared directly behind Vladimir, its body coiled, its soul-blade drawn back. Volatile, dark energy swirled around the weapon, bending the light around it.
"[Sword of Corruption: Soul Piercer]!" it screamed, and thrust the blade forward, aiming for Vladimir's spine.
Vladimir didn't turn. He pivoted, bringing the standard steel sword around in a precise, horizontal arc. As the two blades converged, he spoke two quiet words.
"[Lightning Spark]."
A single, brilliant point of gold light ignited on the tip of the plain sword.
The weapons met.
Lightning clashed with absolute corruption.
For a fraction of a second, gold and violet light held each other in a desperate, silent struggle. Then, the world tore itself apart.
The sound was not a bang, but a deep, fundamental shudder that silenced the thunder itself. Light consumed everything.