Raiden Alaric

I stood in the center of the training facility, surrounded by a semicircle of eleven Elven women, each holding a different training weapon. I took a moment to assess what I was facing.

"Alright, let me make sure I have everyone straight," I said, pointing to each in turn. "Elena with the practice daggers. Mira with the padded staff. Marina with the training rapier. Sarah with that oversized war hammer. Tessa with twin batons. Vera with the training spear. Naia with throwing knives. Kira with weighted chains. Zara with the training scythe."

I gestured to the remaining two. "Lyralei will be our referee, and Dr. Hartwell is obviously our medic."

"All Blue Ranks for the fighters," I concluded, then noticed the telltale binds around each of their wrists. "And you're all wearing suppressors bringing you down to Green Rank for training purposes. Even though I said it wasn't necessary, but a certain someone wasn't having any of it."

Lyralei just lifted her chin and hmph'd.

Every single one of them was shifting from foot to foot, looking anywhere but directly at me. The air was thick with awkwardness that you could probably cut with one of their very safe, very blunted training weapons.

This seemed like such a good idea twenty minutes ago.

I rolled my shoulders and stretched my arms above my head, trying to work out the tension. "Alright, so the plan is simple. We'll do quick sparring matches, maybe ten minutes each, just to get a feel for everyone's fighting style and see how we work together."

More uncomfortable shifting. Tessa actually took a half-step backward.

"Look, I know this is weird," I continued, stretching my neck to one side. "Trust me, I get it. But we're all adults here, and we're all Ascendants. This is just training."

Elena cleared her throat delicately. "It's not that we don't want to help, Raiden. It's just... the optics of this situation are..."

"Problematic," Marina finished diplomatically.

Off to the side, Lyralei stood with her hands clasped behind her back, trying to maintain her professional composure. I caught her occasionally glancing at the weapons rack like she was debating whether to grab something and join in or flee the scene entirely. Next to her, Dr. Hartwell waited with a medical kit, looking like she was expecting the worst but hoping for the best.

"I mean, we all agreed this was a good idea when we discussed it," I said, bending down to touch my toes. "What's different now?"

"Now we're actually standing here holding weapons and preparing to physically engage with our employer," Mira said quietly. "It's... different in practice than it was in theory."

Fair point.

I straightened up and was about to address their concerns when a voice spoke up directly behind Lyralei.

"Well, this is entertaining."

Lyralei let out a shriek that probably shattered glass in three neighboring counties and launched herself a solid six feet into the air. She landed in a combat crouch, aura energy crackling around her hands as she spun toward the voice.

Chronos stood there, completely unbothered by the fact that he'd just nearly given someone a heart attack, munching on a bag of popcorn like he was settling in for a movie.

"CHRONOS!" I shouted, my voice echoing through the training facility. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

He raised an eyebrow, popping another piece of popcorn into his mouth. "Hello to you too, Raiden. Don't mind me, I'm just here to observe."

The maids were all staring at the man who had just materialized out of thin air in my training facility. Several of them had raised their weapons reflexively.

"Where the hell have you been?" I demanded, stalking toward him. "You just disappeared! Left me to deal with all of this!" I gestured wildly at the mansion around us. "Do you have any idea what the last day has been like?"

Chronos continued eating popcorn with infuriating calm. "I imagine it's been quite educational."

"Educational?" My voice was getting higher. "I went from having three hundred dollars in my bank account to owning eight mansions and having more money than some small countries! I've got forty maids, a helicopter, and enough artwork to fund a small war! And you just vanished!"

"Mmm." He nodded thoughtfully. "Sounds about right."

I stared at him, feeling my eye start to twitch. "Sounds about right? SOUNDS ABOUT RIGHT?!"

Lyralei had finally recovered from her near-death experience and was smoothing down her hair, though she was still eyeing Chronos warily. "I... should I know who this is?"

"This," I said through gritted teeth, "is my mentor. The one who's been conveniently absent while my entire life got turned upside down."

"Ah." Lyralei nodded slowly. "The one you cook for."

"The very same," I said, not taking my eyes off Chronos. "The one who apparently likes to disappear when things get complicated."

Chronos shrugged, completely unrepentant. "You seemed to be handling things well enough on your own."

"That's not the point!" I threw my hands up in exasperation. "This whole thing... all of this..." I gestured around the training facility, at the mansion beyond, at the general insanity that had become my life. "Did you have something to do with this?"

"Me?" Chronos looked genuinely surprised, though with him it was hard to tell. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

"Oh, I don't know," I said sarcastically. "Maybe the fact that you've been mysteriously absent exactly when I needed guidance the most? Maybe the fact that this whole situation is completely insane but somehow perfectly suited to what I need? Maybe the fact that you're standing here eating popcorn like you knew this was going to happen?"

Chronos considered this, then shrugged. "I may have had a conversation with the Brightmoor family."

I blinked. "A conversation? What kind of conversation?"

"Oh nothing, we had a deal and they didn't keep their word, so we had a chat," he said casually. "They were very receptive to transferring their Earth assets to you." He gestured around the training facility with a piece of popcorn. "Consider it compensation for their family's poor behavior."

I stared at him for a long moment, processing this revelation. "Wait. You're telling me YOU'RE the reason I suddenly own eight mansions and billions of dollars?"

"Essentially, yes."

"And you didn't think to MENTION this when I was having a complete breakdown about accidentally becoming rich?"

"You seemed to be handling it well enough on your own," Chronos said matter-of-factly. "Besides, where would be the fun in that?"

These things happen. He says it like it's a minor scheduling conflict.

"And you didn't think to mention this earlier?"

Chronos shrugged. "You seemed to be figuring it out on your own. Besides, where would be the fun in that?"

I stared at him for another long moment, then slowly and deliberately raised my right hand and extended my middle finger in his direction.

"Raiden!" Lyralei gasped, scandalized.

"He deserves it," I said without lowering my hand. "He absolutely deserves it."

Chronos just grinned and took another handful of popcorn. "There's the spirit. Now, are you going to stand there being dramatic, or are you going to spar with these lovely ladies who are all holding weapons and looking increasingly uncomfortable?"

I could tell they were all still processing the fact that their employer had changed overnight, and probably wondering if their new employer had lost his mind. Which, to be fair, was a reasonable concern at this point.

Right. Training. That's what we're here for.

I took a deep breath, centered myself, and turned back to face the semicircle of armed elves. "Okay, let's do this. Who wants to go first?"

Elena stepped forward hesitantly, adjusting her grip on the practice daggers. "I... I suppose I could try?"

"Perfect," I said, moving to the center of the sparring circle. "Standard rules, first to yield or get knocked down wins. No permanent damage."

Elena nodded and took her stance. She looked competent enough, balanced on her feet with the daggers held in a proper guard position. But there was something careful about the way she moved, like she was already holding back.

We circled each other for a moment. I could feel my aura flowing naturally through my limbs, suppressed but ready. Elena's aura was visible to me now, a soft silver light that pulsed around her in controlled waves.

Chronos, I'm grilling you on how I'm supposed to tell Ranks apart. I swear if you dodge me one more time...

She made the first move, a quick thrust with her right dagger that I side-stepped easily. I countered with a palm strike that she deflected with her left blade, but her movement was... gentle. Cautious.

She's pulling her punches.

We exchanged a few more strikes, with Elena being technically proficient but clearly not putting her full effort behind any of her attacks. Her footwork was excellent and her form was solid, but every strike felt like she was fighting through molasses.

After about three minutes of this dance, I stopped mid-motion and stepped back, raising my hand.

"Hold up," I said, sighing heavily.

Elena immediately lowered her daggers, worry flickering across her face. "I'm sorry! Did I do something wrong? I didn't mean to—"

"Elena," I cut her off, my voice gentle but firm. "You need to take this seriously."

Her eyes widened with concern. "I am taking it seriously! I swear I—"

"No, you're not," I said, shaking my head. "You're holding back. A lot. This isn't helping either of us if you're not actually trying."

"But you're my employer!" she protested, genuine distress in her voice. "I can't just—I mean, what if I hurt you? What if—"

"Elena," I interrupted again, then paused, considering my words. A slight grin tugged at my lips. "You know what? If you don't start fighting me properly, I'm cutting your pay."

The effect was immediate and dramatic. Elena's posture snapped straighter, her grip on the daggers tightened, and her aura flared slightly brighter. Her eyes narrowed with sudden focus, and I could practically see the switch flip in her mind.

"Now we're talking," I said, grinning as I settled back into my fighting stance.

"Begin!" Lyralei called out, stepping into her role as referee with surprising authority.

This time when Elena moved, it was completely different. Fast, decisive, and with real intent behind it. She came at me with a flurry of strikes that made me actually work to keep up. Even with the bind around her wrist reducing her from Blue Rank down to Green, she was still significantly more skilled than I'd expected.

Now this is more like it.

"Come on, Elena! Show him what a real fighter looks like!" Chronos called out from the sidelines, his voice suspiciously enthusiastic.

I shot him a look. "Whose side are you on?"

"The side of good training," he replied, munching another handful of popcorn. "Go Elena!"

Elena pressed her advantage, her daggers weaving in complex patterns that forced me to stay on the defensive. Her footwork was excellent, and even bound down to Green Rank, her experience showed. She feinted with her left dagger and came in low with her right, nearly catching me off guard.

I managed to deflect the strike and counter with a palm thrust, but she was already moving, spinning away and coming back at me from a different angle. The difference in her fighting style was night and day compared to our first exchange.

"That's more like it!" I laughed, genuinely enjoying myself as I dodged a particularly clever combination. "This is what I'm talking about!"

Elena's eyes were focused now, calculating. She was reading my movements, adapting to my style. When I tried the same palm strike again, she was ready for it, catching my wrist and using my momentum against me.

Before I knew it, I was off balance, stumbling forward. Elena swept my legs out from under me and followed me down. I hit the mat hard with Elena on top of me, one practice dagger pressed against my throat.

For a moment, the training room was completely silent.

Elena's eyes went wide as she realized what she'd done. "Oh gods, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to—I got carried away—"

I started laughing.

"That," I said, grinning up at her despite having a blunted blade at my throat, "was awesome. That's exactly what I wanted."

Elena blinked, still frozen in position. "You're... not mad?"

"Mad? Are you kidding?" I was still chuckling. "That was fun. That's exactly what I wanted."

From the sidelines, Chronos was clapping slowly. "Excellent work, Elena. Very clean takedown."

"I can't believe you were rooting against me," I said, though I was still smiling.

"I wasn't rooting against you," Chronos replied innocently. "I was rooting for proper technique. Which Elena demonstrated beautifully."

Elena finally moved the dagger away from my throat and helped me to my feet, still looking worried. "Are you sure you're okay? I really didn't mean to pin you like that."

"Elena," I said, dusting myself off, "if you hadn't pinned me, I would have been disappointed. That was exactly what this is supposed to be."

"Well," Lyralei said, stepping forward with her professional demeanor back in place, "that was certainly illuminating. Who's next?"

I looked around at the remaining maids, all of whom were now staring at Elena with a mixture of respect and newfound understanding. The awkward shifting had stopped. If anything, a few of them looked eager.

Mira stepped forward, adjusting her grip on the padded staff. "I'll go next," she said, her voice much more confident than Elena's had been initially.

"Excellent," I said, moving back to the center of the circle. "Same rules. And Mira?" I grinned. "I already know you can fight properly, so no holding back from the start."

She nodded, taking her stance with the staff held in a balanced guard position. I could see the bind around her wrist as well, marking her as another Blue Rank brought down to Green.

"Much better energy already," Chronos commented from the sidelines. "This should be interesting."

"Begin!" Lyralei called out.

Mira didn't waste time with cautious probing. She immediately stepped forward and thrust the staff toward my midsection with controlled force. I sidestepped and tried to grab the weapon, but she spun it away and brought the other end around toward my shoulder.

She's not messing around.

I ducked under the swing and closed distance, but Mira was ready for that too. She shortened her grip on the staff and drove the butt end toward my ribs. I managed to deflect it with my forearm, but the impact still sent a jolt up my arm.

"Good!" I called out, genuinely pleased. "That's what I'm talking about!"

From the sidelines, I could hear Chronos again. "Come on, Mira! Show him how a staff is really used!"

"Still rooting against me!" I protested, even as I dodged another precise thrust.

"I'm rooting for educational experiences," he replied cheerfully.

Mira pressed her attack, and I found myself studying her movements more intently. The way she held the staff, the angles of her thrusts, the footwork. It was all very familiar. Too familiar.

This is basically spearmanship without the point.

Having trained extensively with spears, I could read her intentions before she moved. When she drew back for another thrust, I was already stepping offline. When she tried to sweep low, I had already anticipated the angle and jumped over it.

I started to find my rhythm, predicting her attacks and closing the distance bit by bit. Staff work was deadly at range, but if I could get inside her reach...

There. She committed to a high overhead strike, and I ducked under it, stepping in close. Too close for her to use the staff effectively. I landed a solid palm strike to her midsection, not enough to seriously hurt but definitely enough to score a point.

"Nice!" I grinned, stepping back to reset. "Your turn."

But Mira didn't step back. Instead, she did something I absolutely hadn't expected.

She dropped the staff.

Before I could react, she grabbed my extended arm and pivoted, using my forward momentum against me. In one smooth motion, she ducked under my arm, twisted, and suddenly I was being pulled off balance.

I hit the mat hard, and before I could even think about getting up, Mira had my arm twisted behind my back and her knee pressed against my spine.

But Chronos had trained me well in grappling. Instead of trying to power out of the hold, I used her positioning against her. I rolled hard to my left, using the momentum to break her grip on my arm and bring her down with me.

Mira tried to maintain control, but I caught her wrist and spun into her guard, attempting to lock up her arm. She immediately countered, hooking her leg around mine and trying to sweep me.

We rolled across the mat, both of us fighting for position. Mira was skilled. Every time I thought I had an advantage, she'd slip out or counter with something I hadn't expected. She went for an armbar, I defended and tried to pass her guard. She attempted a triangle choke, I stacked her and tried to escape.

She's good. Really good.

But all those hours with Chronos were paying off. I managed to catch one of her legs as she tried to transition to another submission. I tangled it with mine, and before she could react, I had her foot isolated and was applying pressure to her heel and ankle.

"Yield?" I asked, breathing hard but maintaining the heel hook.

Mira immediately tapped on my leg. "I yield! I yield!"

I released the hold instantly and we both lay on the mat for a moment, catching our breath.

"Well," Mira said, sitting up and flexing her ankle, "that was unexpected."

"Tell me about it," I said, grinning as I sat up. "I thought you had me with that initial takedown."

From the sidelines, Chronos was clapping enthusiastically. "Now THAT was proper grappling! Both of you showed excellent technique."

"Wait," I said, looking at him suspiciously. "Were you actually rooting for me that time?"

"I was rooting for good fundamentals," he replied innocently. "Which you both demonstrated."

Mira laughed as she got to her feet. "That was fun. It's been a while since I've had a proper grappling match."

"Same here," I said, accepting her hand up. "Though I'm starting to think all of you have been sandbagging your skills for years."

I paused, considering the match. "You know, that was really smart strategy. Switching from staff to grappling when I got inside your range. Caught me completely off guard."

"Thank you," Mira said, brushing off her training clothes.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

"Though," I continued thoughtfully, "it seems like your grappling might be a bit less polished than your staff work. If you want, I'd be happy to work on ground fighting with you sometime. Help you tighten up those transitions."

From somewhere in the group of watching maids came a barely stifled laugh. I glanced around, trying to figure out who it was, but everyone was maintaining perfectly innocent expressions.

What was that about?

"I'd appreciate that," Mira said with a smile. "It's always good to learn from someone with solid fundamentals."

"Alright then," I said, turning back to the group. "Who's next?"

Sarah stepped forward, and I had to do a double-take. The gardening maid was holding what appeared to be a practice war hammer that was absolutely massive. Easily the size of a sledgehammer, but with an oversized head that looked like it belonged in a fantasy novel.

"Really?" I asked, eyeing the weapon skeptically. "That thing has to weigh at least—"

"Twenty-five pounds," Sarah said cheerfully, giving it a casual spin that made me step back instinctively. "Don't worry, the head is padded. Mostly."

"Mostly?"

"Begin!" Lyralei called out before I could ask for clarification.

Sarah moved with the oversized hammer like it was an extension of herself, and I immediately realized I was about to learn a very painful lesson about underestimating people based on appearances.

She came at me with a sweeping horizontal strike that whistled through the air. I backpedaled quickly, feeling the wind from the hammer's passage. Even padded, that thing would leave a serious bruise if it connected.

Sarah followed up with an overhead strike that I barely managed to dodge, the hammer cratering the training mat where I'd been standing a second before.

Okay, new strategy. Don't get hit.

I tried to stay mobile, looking for an opening, but Sarah's reach with that oversized hammer was incredible. Every time I thought I saw a chance to close distance, she'd bring the weapon around in a wide arc that forced me back.

Then she feinted high and came in low, a rising strike aimed at my midsection. I had nowhere to go but to block, bringing both arms up to absorb the impact.

The collision sent a shock wave through my entire body. The padding on the hammer head might have prevented the strike from being immediately lethal, but twenty-five pounds of force swung by a Blue Ranked Ascendant was still devastating. Even bound down to Green Rank, the impact was crushing.

I felt something give way in my left forearm with a sharp crack that was audible across the training room.

"Ah, fuck!" I gasped, stumbling backward and cradling my arm.

"Stop! Stop!" Lyralei called out immediately.

Sarah dropped the hammer and rushed over, her face pale with concern. "Oh no, I'm so sorry! I thought you'd dodge that one!"

Dr. Hartwell was already moving, medical kit in hand. "Let me see," she said professionally, gently examining my arm. I winced as she probed the injury.

"Clean break," she announced after a moment. "Radius and ulna. I'll have you fixed up in about fifteen minutes."

"Fifteen minutes?" I asked, surprised.

"I specialize in blood esoteric arts," she explained, placing her hands over my arm. Her aura flared to life. A soft crimson glow that pulsed in rhythm with my heartbeat.

As she worked, I felt warmth spread through my arm as the bones shifted back into alignment. She explained she was redirecting my blood flow to create optimal pressure at the fracture, enriching it with calcium ions and growth factors, then using electromagnetically guided positioning to align the bone fragments. The iron in my blood let her create precise magnetic fields to guide everything into place. Finally, she was accelerating mineralization. Triggering rapid crystallization of calcium phosphate to rebuild the bone matrix from the inside out.

She's manipulating chemistry itself in real time. The level of control required for that...

I tried to follow her aura patterns, but they shifted and flowed in ways that made my head spin. It was like watching a master artist paint with forces I couldn't even see properly.

This is what real esoteric arts mastery looks like. I guess it's not all about bashing someones head against the wall. cough Illya cough.

Within minutes, the warmth faded and the pain was completely gone.

"Try moving it gently," Dr. Hartwell said.

I flexed my fingers experimentally, then slowly rotated my wrist. No pain. No stiffness.

"It's... perfect," I said, staring at my arm in disbelief.

"Right then," Chronos said, clapping his hands once. "Medical demonstration complete. Who's ready for round three?"

The next hour was a masterclass in getting thoroughly outmatched by people who were supposedly "just household maids."

Tessa with her twin batons had introduced me to what she cheerfully called "aggressive percussion therapy."

"Sorry, sir!" she called out cheerfully between strikes, her batons moving in what looked almost like a dance routine. "I know this looks aggressive, but I promise it's all perfectly calculated!" Her fighting style matched her personality. Energetic, precise, and somehow managing to be apologetic even while systematically battering me. The woman moved like a drummer playing a violent symphony. Her batons created a constant rhythm of impacts that left me feeling like a human xylophone.

"Excellent adaptation to his guard work!" Chronos had called out during that match. "Though Raiden, your footwork is getting sloppy!"

He was right. By the fifth match, I was already feeling the accumulated fatigue from constant aura use and the minor injuries that Dr. Hartwell couldn't heal fast enough between rounds. A bruised rib here, a tweaked shoulder there, the general soreness that came from being systematically beaten by professionals.

Vera approached combat the same way she approached her cleaning duties, methodically and thoroughly. Each thrust was calculated, each step planned three moves ahead. "Proper distance management is essential," she said calmly as she kept me at exactly the range where her spear was most effective. "Whether you're dusting high shelves or maintaining combat spacing."

"Think of it like arranging flowers," Naia said conversationally as she sent another practice blade spinning past my ear. "It's all about angles and timing." Her throws came in artistic patterns that forced me to move in specific ways, like she was choreographing my movements across the training mat.

Kira fought with a fluid grace that reminded me of how she moved while setting the dining table. Everything had its proper place and timing. The chains seemed to flow around her like extensions of her will. She wielded them with the same careful attention she brought to arranging silverware.

"Gardening tools, really," Zara said with a slight smile as she demonstrated a particularly elegant sweep that nearly took my legs out. "Though I admit the applications are somewhat different." Her movements had the same rhythm I'd seen when she worked in the gardens. Economical, purposeful, and surprisingly beautiful to watch.

"Your aura control is deteriorating," Chronos observed during the seventh match. "You're compensating with raw output instead of technique."

I should have listened to the warning signs. The way my aura was becoming harder to maintain, the increasing effort required for basic enhancement, the slight tremor in my hands between matches. But I was having too much fun learning from each opponent to pay attention to my body's protests.

Finally, I lay flat on my back in the center of the training mat, staring up at the ceiling while trying to catch my breath. My entire body ached in places I'd forgotten I had, and I was pretty sure I'd discovered several new muscle groups through the process of having them systematically abused.

But I was grinning like an idiot.

"That," I panted between breaths, "was absolutely perfect."

The remaining maids stood around me in various states of satisfaction, most looking like they'd barely broken a sweat despite having just handed me my ass in seven different creative ways.

Lyralei approached, looking down at me with a mixture of concern and amusement. "Are you alright, Raiden? You've been lying there laughing for the past minute."

I propped myself up on my elbows, still grinning. "I'm fantastic. Though I have to point out something."

"What's that?"

"I haven't fought you yet."

Lyralei blinked, clearly caught off guard. "I... what?"

"You're the one person here I haven't sparred with," I said, sitting up properly. "And after seeing how you moved when Chronos scared you earlier..." I gestured to where she'd launched herself six feet through the air and landed in a perfect combat crouch. "That was not the reaction of someone who just manages household schedules."

"That was just... reflexes," she said quickly, but I could see the slight tension in her posture.

"Reflexes like that don't come from explaining art history," I said with a knowing smile. "Come on, one more match?"

Lyralei hesitated, glancing around at the other maids who were watching with obvious interest. "I... I don't think that's necessary. You've already had quite enough training for one day."

"I won't force you," I said, getting to my feet and brushing off my clothes. "But I'd really appreciate it. I have a feeling you might be the most interesting opponent here."

She looked at me for a long moment, then sighed in what sounded like resignation. "Very well. But don't say I didn't warn you."

Without another word, she walked to the center of the training circle. No weapon. No equipment. She simply stood there with perfect posture, hands relaxed at her sides, and settled into a stance that somehow managed to look both completely casual and absolutely lethal.

My grin became positively manic.

Hand-to-hand combat. This is going to be incredible.

From the sidelines, Chronos let out a low whistle. "Oh, this will be very interesting indeed."

"Begin!" someone called out, though I was too focused on Lyralei to notice who.

She moved like liquid lightning.

I barely had time to register her first strike before I was stumbling backward, my hasty block having absorbed an impact that felt like getting hit by a professional boxer. She followed up immediately with a combination that forced me into pure defensive mode.

"Well, there goes Raiden," Chronos commented casually from the sidelines, like he was watching a foregone conclusion.

But I couldn't help myself. Even as I got systematically outclassed, I was grinning from ear to ear.

She's incredible. Look at that footwork, those transitions...

Lyralei's fighting style was unlike anything I'd seen from the others. Where Elena had been precise with her daggers and Mira had been adaptable with her staff work, Lyralei fought like she'd been born to it. Every movement flowed into the next with perfect efficiency.

I started to adapt, reading her patterns and finding small openings. When she came in with a right cross, I managed to slip it and counter with an elbow that actually connected. Her eyes widened slightly with what might have been approval.

"Raiden," Dr. Hartwell called out from the sidelines, "perhaps you should—"

"I'm fine!" I called back, ducking under a kick that would have taken my head off. "This is amazing!"

And it was. Despite getting thoroughly outmatched, I was learning with every exchange. Lyralei's strikes were teaching me things about timing and distance that I'd never picked up before. I could feel myself getting better in real time.

Even Lyralei seemed to be warming up to the fight. There was a slight smile tugging at her lips now, and her movements had gained a playful quality that suggested she was actually enjoying herself.

Then, without warning, agony exploded through my entire body.

It felt like every vein in my body had been filled with molten fire. My aura, which had been flowing steadily throughout all the matches, suddenly began dispersing uncontrollably. The pain was so intense and immediate that I couldn't even scream.

The pain was unlike anything I'd experienced. It wasn't just physical, it felt like my very essence was being torn apart from the inside. All those hours of training with Chronos, all the careful lessons about control and technique, and I'd ignored every warning sign my body had given me. The trembling hands, the increasing effort, the way my aura had started feeling forced rather than natural, I'd pushed through it all because I was having too much fun to stop.

I realized this is what hubris feels like as darkness crept in around the edges of my vision. Not the dramatic, heroic kind you read about in stories, but the stupid, preventable kind that comes from thinking enthusiasm can substitute for wisdom.

"And there it is," Chronos said calmly.

I collapsed to my knees, then pitched forward onto the mat as my vision blurred. The last thing I saw was Lyralei's concerned face as she dropped down beside me, all the other maids rushing over.

I woke up in what was clearly the medical bay, lying on a comfortable bed with monitoring equipment humming softly around me. My body felt like I'd been run over by a truck, then backed over for good measure.

"Ah, you're awake," Dr. Hartwell said, looking up from a chart. "How are you feeling?"

"Like death," I croaked, my throat dry. "What happened?"

Chronos appeared in my peripheral vision, looking unsurprised. "Aura exhaustion. Severe case."

"What he means," Dr. Hartwell said, giving Chronos a pointed look, "is that you've been using your aura continuously for hours without rest. Your aether core ran completely dry, but your body kept trying to channel energy that wasn't there."

"Think of it like trying to start a car with no gas in the tank," Chronos added. "Except instead of just not starting, the engine catches fire."

Dr. Hartwell nodded grimly. "The backlash from forced channeling on an empty core can cause severe internal damage. You're lucky this was your first time experiencing it. Your body hasn't built up any tolerance, so the warning signs were dramatic enough to make you collapse before you could cause permanent harm."

"So the fire in my veins...?"

"Was your aura channels rebelling against being used as a conduit for energy that didn't exist," she explained. "Your body was essentially trying to tear itself apart to find aura to channel."

I tried to sit up and immediately regretted it as every muscle protested. "How long was I out?"

"About an hour," Chronos said. "Dr. Hartwell had to use some fairly aggressive treatment to stabilize your aura flow and prevent lasting damage. And by lasting, I mean that if your mother found out, she'd probably tear down half the city."

"The good news," Dr. Hartwell continued, "is that you should make a full recovery. The bad news is that you're going to feel like you've been hit by a freight train for the next few days, and you absolutely cannot use your aura for at least forty-eight hours."

"Wait," Chronos interjected. "To clarify, you can't channel aura or use it for enhancement, but your passive senses should still work. You can still see auras and sense them. Just don't try to actually manipulate or output any energy."

"Forty-eight hours?" I asked, dismayed.

"Be grateful it's not longer," Chronos said dryly. "Most people who experience aura backlash this severe are looking at a week or more of recovery time."

I lay back against the pillows, processing this information. "So I guess the training session is over."

"Very much over," Dr. Hartwell said firmly. "And next time, you need to listen when I tell you to stop."

Despite everything, I found myself smiling weakly. "But it was incredible while it lasted."

Chronos shook his head, though I caught what might have been approval in his expression. "You're going to be a handful to train, aren't you?"

"Speaking of training," I said, propping myself up slightly despite my protesting muscles, "I need to grill you about something. How the hell am I supposed to tell the difference between Ranks? I've been flying blind this whole time."

Chronos raised an eyebrow. "How do you not know this yet?"

I stared at him. "Because you haven't taught me how yet, genius."

Chronos pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long sigh. "So this is why you didn't win these fights."

"What do you mean?" I asked, confused.

"Did you use the instruction node?" he asked, looking at me expectantly.

"The what now?" I blinked at him.

Chronos stared at me for a long moment, then his expression shifted from exasperation to realization. "The device I gave you after we visited you realm. The small crystalline thing. Please tell me you didn't just leave it somewhere."

"Oh!" The memory clicked. "That thing? Yeah, it's... it's currently serving as a paperweight on my desk at home. I completely forgot about it."

Chronos closed his eyes and took a deep breath that suggested he was counting to ten in his head. "Of course it is."

Without another word, he opened a portal with a casual gesture. Through the swirling energy, I could see what looked like my bedroom. Chronos stepped through and immediately I heard the sound of things being moved around, followed by a few crashes and what might have been a book hitting the floor.

"Your room's a mess, by the way," his voice called out from the portal.

"It shouldn't be, I cleaned up last—" I started to protest, then caught myself. "Never mind."

A few more crashes echoed through the portal before Chronos stepped back through, holding the small crystalline device. He tossed it to me, and I caught it reflexively.

"There," he said, closing the portal behind him. "Now imbue it with your aura and—"

"I can't use my aura for forty-eight hours, remember?" I pointed out, holding up the device.

Chronos paused, then looked at Dr. Hartwell. "How strict is that timeline?"

"Very," she said firmly. "If he tries to use aura before his core has had time to recover, his body will start cannibalizing itself to compensate. Bones could start breaking spontaneously, he could bleed from his pores, lose his senses... it's completely random what the aether core will sacrifice to try and generate energy that isn't there."

"Right." Chronos settled back into his chair. "Well, I suppose we're doing this the old-fashioned way then. Verbal explanation it is."

He leaned forward slightly. "Rank detection works through something called Aura Resonance. Every Ascendant has an inherent ability to sense the vibrational frequency and intensity of another person's aura. Think of it like a sensory ability, you can see, hear, or feel someone's aura signature."

I blinked. "I can see auras already. Elena's looked like soft silver light."

"Exactly. But what you're seeing is just the visual aspect. The Rank is determined by the strength, clarity, and complexity of their aura's signal." Chronos gestured as he explained. "Green Ranks feel faint and erratic, like a weak pulse or dim light. Blue Ranks have a steady, noticeable presence, like a gentle breeze. Violet Ranks are richer, more layered, they feel like a deep, rhythmic pulse."

"So I've been... what, guessing this whole time?"

"Basically, yes." Chronos looked mildly exasperated. "Though your range as a Green Rank is limited. You can only sense auras within about fifty to a hundred feet, and you'll struggle to distinguish Ranks much higher than your own."

"Wait, so there's a range limit too?"

"Lower Ranks like you have shorter range and less accuracy. Higher Ranks can sense auras over hundreds of feet and identify any Rank precisely." He paused. "There's also a technique called 'Aura Pulse', a controlled emission of your own aura to ping others nearby. It acts like sonar, sending out a wave that interacts with other auras and returns with their resonance signature."

"That sounds useful," I said.

"It is, but it's risky. Anyone nearby can sense when you use The Pulse, so it's not exactly subtle. Think of it like shouting 'Hey, I'm here!' to everyone in the area."

I winced. "Right, probably not ideal for stealth situations."

"Exactly." Chronos gestured to the device in my hands. "Which is why the instruction node is so valuable. I've loaded it with advanced training modules, martial arts, aura techniques, tactical applications. It's essentially a comprehensive training library."

"How does it work exactly?"

"You imbue it with your aura while meditating, then enter your aether realm. The device creates immersive training scenarios where you can practice techniques safely and repeatedly until they become muscle memory." Chronos looked pointedly at me. "It's far more efficient than verbal explanations or traditional sparring."

I looked down at the crystalline device. "So I've been missing out on advanced training this whole time because I thought it was just a fancy paperweight."

"Among other things, yes." Chronos crossed his arms. "It's designed to provide practical training that I should have expected you to forget about the moment I told you to use it after awakening."

Suddenly, Chronos's head turned toward the wall, his expression shifting as if he'd sensed something. A slow smile spread across his face, filled with intrigue.

"Well... that's interesting," he said, his crimson eyes beginning to glow with a faint light.

"What's interesting?" I asked, sitting up slightly.

Chronos stood, already moving toward the door. "Nothing you need to worry about right now. Focus on recovering." He paused at the threshold and looked back at me. "Once you're able to use aura again, I'll teach you that Aura Release technique you asked about. Seems like an appropriate time for it."

"Finally!" I said to myself as he disappeared.

I was still holding the instruction node and processing everything Chronos had told me when rapid footsteps echoed in the hallway outside. The sound was different from the casual movement I'd grown used to from the maids, more urgent, more purposeful.

Before I could wonder what was happening, the infirmary door opened and Lyralei appeared, looking slightly out of breath.

"What's wrong?" I asked, immediately alert despite my exhaustion.

"Seraphina has arrived," Lyralei said, smoothing down her hair and trying to regain her composure. " She's here, and she's... currently conducting interviews with the... training participants."

I could hear something in Lyralei's tone, a mixture of respect and what might have been apprehension.

"Interviews?" I asked, sitting up despite my protesting muscles.

"She's very thorough when it comes to incidents involving the master of the house," Lyralei explained diplomatically. "She'll want a full accounting of what happened."

"Oh good!" I said, swinging my legs over the side of the medical bed. "I was wanting to talk to her, especially about the raises."

I stood up and started walking confidently toward what I thought was the direction of the main entrance. After a few steps, I realized I had absolutely no idea where I was going. The infirmary could have been anywhere in this massive mansion for all I knew.

"Raiden," Lyralei called gently from behind me. "She's in the training facility, reviewing what happened with the other maids."

I stopped and turned around, grinning sheepishly. "Right. I knew that."

She smiled and moved past me to lead the way. "Of course you did."

The scene that greeted us in the training facility was unlike anything I'd witnessed since arriving at the mansion. All nine of the maids who had participated in the sparring matches were lined up in perfect formation, their posture rigidly formal with hands clasped behind their backs and heads bowed. Even Elena, who had seemed so confident during our match, looked like she was trying to disappear into the floor.

Standing before them was a figure I immediately recognized as someone in complete authority. Seraphina was strikingly beautiful even by elven standards, with platinum blonde hair that caught the light and violet eyes that seemed to take in everything at once. She wore an elegant black and white outfit that managed to be both formal and practical. Clearly the uniform of someone in charge, but tailored to perfection. Delicate lace details and pristine white gloves completed the ensemble, giving her an air of refined professionalism.

She held a sleek, crystalline device in one hand. Some kind of tablet. She was making notes with precise movements of her finger across its surface. Her violet eyes moved systematically from one maid to the next as she spoke.

"...twenty-five pound war hammer against an employer with minimal combat experience," she was saying, her voice carrying the kind of crisp authority that made everyone in the room stand straighter. "Sarah, what were you thinking?"

"I... he asked us to fight seriously, ma'am," Sarah mumbled, not lifting her head.

"And when Elena pinned him with a blade to his throat, did any of you consider that perhaps 'fighting seriously' should have limits when your opponent is your employer?"

The silence was deafening.

Seraphina made another note on her device. "Broken bones, aura exhaustion requiring emergency medical intervention, and a complete disregard for basic safety protocols. This is not how trained household maids conduct themselves."

I cleared my throat loudly. "Actually, that's exactly how I wanted them to conduct themselves."

Every head in the room turned toward me, including Seraphina's. Her violet eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made me feel like I was being evaluated. Not judged, exactly, but assessed with the thoroughness of someone who needed to understand exactly what kind of person she was now working for.

I raised my hand in a casual wave. "Yo."

Seraphina immediately straightened and bowed deeply at the waist, her movements precise and formal. "Master Alaric, it is an honor to finally meet you. I am Seraphina, head of household maids across all your properties. I hope my brief absence for the property inspections has not caused any inconvenience."

I caught Lyralei wincing out of the corner of my eye, clearly anticipating what was coming next.

"Just Raiden is fine," I said with the same easy grin I'd used on Lyralei. "While I am reveling a bit in being called Master Alaric like the filthy weeb I am, I prefer to just skip the formal gestures."

I laughed and waved it off. "Right, well, I've been wanting to meet you anyway. But first..." I looked at the line of maids with their heads down. "Why are they all standing like they're about to be executed?"

Seraphina's composure wavered slightly, clearly uncertain how to respond to such a direct and informal approach from someone she'd expected to be much more like the Brightmoors.

"I was conducting a review of the training incident," she said carefully. "To ensure such safety breaches do not occur again."

"Safety breaches?" I laughed. "That was the best training I've ever had! These ladies are incredible fighters, and I specifically asked them to take it seriously. The only mistake anyone made was me ignoring the warning signs of aura exhaustion."

I turned to address the lineup of maids. "You can all relax. Nobody's in trouble. In fact, I'm planning to give everyone raises."

The effect was immediate. Nine heads snapped up simultaneously, and I could see the relief flooding their faces.

"Raises?" Seraphina asked, her professional mask slipping slightly.

"Among other things, yeah," I said. "But let's talk about that in my office. I still don't know where it is, so someone's going to have to show me."

Seraphina blinked once, then smoothly stepped forward. "Of course, Master Alaric. The main office is this way."

She moved past me to lead the way, though I caught the slight bewilderment in her expression as she tried to reconcile this casual, somewhat lost young man with her expectations of a new estate owner.

When we arrived at the office, I settled into the chair behind the large desk while Seraphina positioned herself standing nearby, hands clasped formally in front of her.

I gave her a confused look. "Aren't you gonna sit down?"

Seraphina hesitated, clearly uncertain. "I... why would I sit, Master Alaric?"

"Why not?" I asked, genuinely puzzled.

"Well," she began carefully, "proper etiquette dictates that maids should remain standing in the presence of their employer during formal meetings. It demonstrates respect for the hierarchy and maintains appropriate professional boundaries. We were trained that sitting without explicit permission would be presumptuous and inappropriate."

I waved it off dismissively. "I don't believe in that stuff. As far as I'm concerned, we're equals. So please, sit down."

Seraphina looked genuinely conflicted for a moment before slowly settling into the chair across from me, her posture still perfectly straight and professional.

Once she was seated, I took a good look at her and couldn't help but grin widely. Even without knowing how to properly use Aura Resonance, I could see her aura clearly, and it was impressive. Where the other maids had controlled, steady auras that spoke of competence, Seraphina's was something else entirely. It radiated a deep, complex energy that felt layered and refined. Strong didn't even begin to cover it.

She has no openings...

I realized, studying the way her aura moved. Everything about her presence spoke of someone who had mastered not just household management, but herself completely.

Just who are you, Seraphina?

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