Crack! Crack!

Corvus clicked her beak in what seemed like admiration as she watched Yeomyeong handle the ice spikes. His movements were flawless—deflecting, blocking, and evading every projectile with precision. It was as if he had experienced countless battles like this before.

“…What kind of hell have you lived through at such a young age?”

No answer came. Instead, Yeomyeong seized the opportunity to close the gap with astonishing speed, bringing his sword down in a powerful strike.

Clang!

Corvus blocked the blade with her mana-coated talons. The martial art known as Relentless Talons clashed against the rippling mana of Yeomyeong’s sword. Using the recoil, Corvus leapt backward with ease.

And once again, ice spikes materialized.

Yeomyeong let out a sound somewhere between a sigh and a curse as he rolled to the ground to avoid them.

With that, the one-sided exchange resumed.

The relentless barrage of flying spikes, and Yeomyeong, tirelessly deflecting and dodging them.

If Corvus used a higher-tier spell, she could have overpowered Yeomyeong instantly. But she had neither prepared her staff nor chosen the right environment for such destructive magic.

This was, after all, the academy where students lived. A spell strong enough to subdue someone like Yeomyeong would cause unimaginable collateral damage.

“Then again, I’m already being quite the nuisance as it is,” Corvus muttered to herself.

Even so, she resolved to end things with the ice spikes, no matter how long it took.

Truthfully, this hadn’t been her original plan.

She had intended to drain Yeomyeong’s murderous intent more gradually—methodically pummeling it out of him step by step.

But his skill level had far exceeded her expectations.

His reaction speed, the depth of his martial arts, his split-second decision-making, and his monstrous physical resilience.

None of it was at a student’s level. He outright mocked the popular notion that the Saintess’ blessing was the only reason he could fight dragons.

Her pride was bruised, but she wasn’t displeased.

In fact, she found herself thankful for her time at the academy. Without this special connection as a visiting professor, when else could a beastkin take on such a talented human as a disciple?

She stifled the smile threatening to form. The battle wasn’t over yet.

‘At this point… he’ll fire another sword energy wave.’

Flash!

As expected, Yeomyeong sent a wave of sword energy hurtling toward her, timing it perfectly to interrupt her spell.

His precision was unnerving. Either he had an uncanny ability to read spells visually, or his mana sensitivity was absurdly high.

In either case, it was the kind of attack that would decapitate most magicians instantly.

But Corvus was no ordinary magician. She stood her ground, taking the sword energy directly on her shoulder.

“You continue to amaze me.”

Blood seeped from her shoulder, but Corvus paid it no mind, keeping her focus on Yeomyeong.

“Huff… huff…”

His breathing had grown ragged, his stamina nearing its limit. It was only natural. He had endured a brutal melee with Corvus and deflected hundreds of ice spikes.

Whatever elixirs he had taken, it was a miracle someone his age still had mana left.

‘But the end is in sight.’

One more ice spike—just one—connecting would be enough to break the dam and bring him down.

Victory was within her grasp, but Corvus didn’t let her guard down.

True masters always prepared a final move, and Yeomyeong had already proven himself worthy of that title.

However, the next move he unveiled far exceeded her expectations.

“…The Comet Sword?”

Corvus narrowed her eyes as she saw the pale, radiant light condense along Yeomyeong’s blade.

A martial art that should only have been wielded by the Holy Sword. Why was it here?

She didn’t dwell on the question. Regardless of how Yeomyeong had obtained it, her immediate priority was to stop it.

“The snowy gate is firmly shut, and the snow-covered courtyard does not welcome guests.”

Corvus murmured an incantation.

Following the vivid imagery in her mind, mana coalesced, creating thick walls of ice and snow.

The shimmering ice wall rose in an almost miraculous two seconds.

But it wasn’t fast enough to stop The Comet Sword.

Flash!

Before the wall could fully form, the blade’s radiance engulfed both the ice barrier and Corvus.

A slash capable of cutting through dragon scales shredded the hastily constructed wall in less than a second.

Crash!

The explosion sent shards of ice flying in every direction. Air displaced by mana roared, and trees toppled like dominoes in the aftermath.

Amidst the devastation, Yeomyeong peered through the ice-littered battlefield with an exasperated expression.

“…How did you dodge that?”

Corvus emerged from behind an unscathed tree, far from the debris. Walking casually, she replied, “I combined Fleeting Moonstep with wind-boosting magic. My own little trick.”

Yeomyeong didn’t recognize the terms, but their meaning was clear enough—she had augmented her footwork with magic for acceleration.

Estimating his remaining mana, Yeomyeong muttered, “…I’m sick of dodging these ice spikes. Can we finish this with fists?”

Corvus grinned faintly, conjuring dozens more ice spikes as she responded.

“I’ll meet you halfway. I’ll use both spikes and fists.”

“….”

“Do your best until the very end.”

Yeomyeong closed his mouth for a moment, then nodded. He activated a martial art he hadn’t used before.

Whoosh!

A blue haze rose from his body.

It was the Martial Arts of Destruction. A martial art steeped in murderous intent. As the technique manifested, the ice spikes rained down on him.

Some hit, others missed, but none landed effectively.

The haze itself acted as armor, dispersing any magic below the level of the spikes upon contact.

Corvus watched in awe. “As I thought when I saw it last night, that’s no ordinary martial art. If only it weren’t so soaked in murderous intent…”

Despite her admiration, Corvus didn’t relent with the spikes. Their purpose wasn’t just to harm—they were distractions.

As she observed Yeomyeong parry and evade, something seemed to dawn on her. She brought her hands together as if in prayer.

“Yeomyeong, since I’ve seen all your cards today, I’ll show you mine.”

Yeomyeong wanted to tell her to stop with the ice spikes, but Corvus spoke faster.

“The technique I’m about to use is called Black Wing Style. It’s different from the ordinary techniques you’ve seen—this is my secret skill.”

Dark mana began to radiate from Corvus, spreading around her like a scattering of black feathers.

Yeomyeong, attuned to mana, instantly recognized the martial art’s complexity—comparable to his own Wave-Breaking Blade—and its entirely distinct nature from Destruction.

While Destruction served as both armor and weapon, Black Wing Style acted as a conduit, opening all the mana pathways in the body.

From head to toe, from the aorta to the smallest capillaries.

An art designed for those who walked both paths of magic and martial arts—uniquely suited to Corvus.

As Corvus closed the distance between them, Yeomyeong found himself asking without realizing it:

“…What is the essence of Black Wing Style?”

It was a sudden and impolite question—asking the essence of someone’s martial art.

But Corvus, already regarding him as her disciple, answered without hesitation.

“At every fork in the road, I choose the center. Where I walk becomes the path.”

Her answer reflected the philosophy of her life. Hearing it, Yeomyeong stared at her with unfocused eyes before suddenly closing them.

For Corvus, who was intent on draining his murderous intent, this was an unexpected and bewildering turn of events.

“…No-Mind State? Just like that?”

Her voice carried disbelief as Yeomyeong’s consciousness plunged into the depths of his mind.

   ***
   

Yeomyeong opened his eyes to find himself in a forest reeking of blood.

The ground, painted green by moss and grass, was crowded with towering trees and corpses that felt eerily familiar.

For a long moment, he couldn’t gather his thoughts, staring blankly at the forest before him. Then, memories of the events just before he opened his eyes began to surface.

Fighting Corvus. Hearing the essence of Black Wing Style. Losing consciousness the moment he heard it.

“Could it be… Did I fall into a no-mind state?”

He felt no panic. He had been through this before.

The last time was when Seti had explained the essence of Wave-Breaking Blade. That was exactly how it happened back then too.

Out of nowhere, he had abruptly entered a no-mind state.

The only difference this time was… he wasn’t alone.

“What are you looking at, idiot?”

A deep, resonant voice came from his right. Turning his head, Yeomyeong saw a crimson elephant standing there.

It had an enormous frame that loomed over him, flapping ears, and long tusks—every characteristic of a classic male Indian elephant.

Yet, the voice was unmistakably the same as Pa Sun’s.

Yeomyeong distinctly remembered the human Pa Sun as having an androgynous appearance, to the point where their gender was indeterminate.

“…So he was male after all?”

While Yeomyeong was lost in this irrelevant thought, a voice called out to him from his left.

“Um… Scarab? Where are we?”

A blonde-haired girl, her face marked with confusion, glanced around the area nervously.

Yeomyeong shrugged as he looked at her intricately styled hair, recognizing her instantly.

“This is probably my dream. I think.”

“Huh? Where, did you say?”

“My dream,” Yeomyeong repeated, “and I should be the one asking questions here. Midiris, why are you here?”

The elf princess blinked at him, clearly unable to comprehend the situation.

A brief silence followed.

Just as Pa Sun began to swing his trunk to pull up some grass to eat, Midiris spoke again, hesitating.

“Um… I’m only asking just in case.”

“What is it?”

“Are you… Are you having a wet dream? About me, and, um… the elephant?”

As soon as Midiris finished her question, Pa Sun burst into laughter. A deafening roar of laughter that seemed to shake the entire forest.

“….”

Of course, Yeomyeong couldn’t bring himself to laugh.