Chapter 616 (1/2)

The next day, Randidly, Helen, and Azriel set out on their journey towards the Central Domain. This would be at least a week-long leg without teleporting and no one had the funds to swing all three of them. The representatives of the Western Domain would be departing by teleportation in a few days. Helen seemed tight-lipped when Randidly suggested that they ask the military to assist them, and just glared at him until he let it go.

Although they could get varies mounts, none were as consistent and quick as their own bodies. Therefore, they would continue the rest of their journey on foot. The first day of this was relatively novel as they passed through strange pyramidal trunked trees that Randidly didn’t recognize.

But by lunch on the second day of jogging, Randidly was bored. It didn’t help that Azriel’s injuries were still lingering, so she wasn’t able to go at full speed. So he had spent a day and a half slow jogging. He spent his Mana as much as possible, forming Incendiary Eruptions and Lava Golems, but it wasn’t really that entertaining.

Plus, it was difficult to lose himself in the sensation of training while the dull cadence of jogging kept scratching at his senses. It was difficult to turn jogging into an autopilot activity like he had done others in the past.

Instead, most of the focus Randidly had was not raising the Level of his Skills but strengthening his images. More and more he weaved the sharp image of impossible heat he had used in As the Sun Stills into his various fire Skills. There were only small changes at first, but the more he pushed, the more he felt the flavor of the Skill changing. In addition, he gained a few Skill Levels in Visualization.

Luckily, Helen brought something up at lunch of their second day.

“...I believe I was mistaken when I said we shouldn’t spar.” She announced as Randidly expertly flipped the vegetables he was frying.

He peered up at her, then sideways at Azriel, who was reading a leatherbound book. “Is this because…?”

“No.” Her glare could spoil milk. “When Azriel heals, I believe it would be good for her to join in the sparring as well. Before, I thought that it might give either side an unfair edge, but now that we have fought some, it seems…”

“I agree,” Azriel said, looking up from her book. She looked at Randidly and then shook her head. “You are rusty. What sort of fool attacks a Witch King directly?”

“Didn’t you do the same thing?” Randidly retorted.

Azriel sniffed. “It was tactically different. My attempt was to distract the Witch King. You were flailing.”

“It’s weird to say, but she’s right,” Helen cut in. “You have so many tools… it almost feels like you’ve never tried to standardize the image you have. So you behave like a series of disjointed responses. There is no flow to you. Your Skills have gotten stronger, but your battle sense has not.”

Randidly frowned at her. Helen frowned right back. “What is that look for? Unsatisfied? Let’s spar again, and I won’t hold back.”

Randidly’s eyebrows rose. “You were holding back?”

It turned out that she had. Not that she then proceeded to beat down on Randidly, but when they dueled until first blood, she generally won. Even when Randidly used spells to surprise her, she had this strange preternatural sense of what was coming. Helen claimed it was due to how disjointed his Style had become, but Randidly’s investigation of his Aether connection to her made him inclined to believe she had a Skill that gave her mild precognition.

So they began sparring twice a day to pass the time, always to first blood. Randidly lost every time, to his great frustration.

“You are too aware of your own strong points,” Azriel said after Randidly ground his teeth after a spar. “You spend no time avoiding hers. You think you are better than her. Which is so strange, because you have lost all of these small duels since you have begun.”

Sighing, Randidly let his anger go and shook his head. She had a point. He knew that he could endure blows and keep coming because his Yggdrasil Skills made his body extremely durable. Small scratches meant nothing to him. But in this sort of fight, those scratches were exactly what mattered. It was frustrating.

“Fine then, duel me,” Azriel said, standing up. Helen looked up and watched them both.

“Are you-” Randidly began, but Azriel cut him off.