Chapter 42: Are you sure you want to compare age with a half-elf?
The square training room measured fifty meters by fifty meters, with a five-meter-high ceiling.
Its high-strength concrete floor, walls, and ceiling were woven with intricate anti-impact and anti-magic defenses.
The sandy floor was made of material that partially absorbed magic.
“Not bad conditions. You picked a good spot,” Suna remarked.
The red-dressed woman, arms crossed, questioned skeptically, “Saintess, how do you plan to train us?”
Suna shrugged and made a request. “Before I answer, can you both drop the disguises? And give me names to call you.”
“What?” The red-dressed woman flustered.
The hooded man, as if expecting this, sighed, removed his hood and bandages, and used minor transfiguration magic to adjust his face, revealing his true appearance.
The red-dressed woman hesitated, prompting Suna to press.
“Don’t play tough, miss. I sized you up the moment I saw you—your real height and build. You’re barely adults; pretending to be mature makes you seem more childish.”
“You don’t look much older!” the woman retorted.
“You sure you want to compare ages with a half-elf?”
Suna slightly relaxed her [Veil of Truth], lifting her hair to reveal a long, pointed ear.
“…”
Embarrassed, the woman, persuaded by the man, dispelled her illusion magic.
The man, now revealed, had spiky orange-red hair, fiery red eyes, and a muscular build.
His rugged face contrasted with his humble introduction.
“Saintess, call me Boon. I specialize in close-quarters combat.”
“I’m Mist, skilled in smoke and illusion magic,” the woman said.
Mist, a classic haughty noble girl, had soft blue twin-tails curling at the ends and sharp ice-blue eyes, exuding an aristocratic air.
Yielding to Boon’s urging, Mist added a jab. “We’ve shown our faces, but you, our teacher, won’t?”
“If you can unmask me in these two weeks, I’ll show you my face. To keep it fair, I’ll limit myself to high silver-tier strength.”
“What?” Mist started to protest.
Before she could finish, Suna stretched her wrists and pulled an axe-spear from her storage.
“Don’t believe me? Let’s spar now.”
Boon and Mist were surprised by the hybrid weapon—a pole blending an axe and spear.
“Wait, you use an axe-spear?” Boon asked.
Gripping it with both hands, Suna launched a cleaving strike.
Boon dodged, but she thrust the spear tip, disrupting his stance, then swept horizontally, forcing Mist to retreat and shattering her forming smoke magic.
Seizing the moment, Boon charged, adjusting his stance.
His charged right fist morphed slightly, bypassing Suna’s raised axe-spear shaft.
A loud clang rang out, but Suna didn’t budge—her fist’s target was blocked by a palm-sized Corona Magic plate.
Before Boon could follow up, Suna kicked him, sending him flying.
Multiple smoke spears flew at her.
Suna swung her axe-spear, wreathed in golden flames, unleashing a hot gust that shattered the spears.
As mist veiled the area, Suna ignored daggers stabbing from behind, grabbed at empty air to her left-front, and twisted.
The daggers fell, revealing Mist, whose wrist Suna held.
Suna rested the axe-spear’s shaft against Mist’s waist.
“Damn, I surrender!” Mist conceded.
Though the shaft wouldn’t kill, it could incapacitate her temporarily.
“And next…” Suna turned to Boon, who, scrambling up, scratched his head and surrendered.
“Sorry, Saintess, I give up too!”
“Fine.” Releasing Mist’s wrist, Suna leaned on her axe-spear. “Your combat skills are rough. You have ideas for using your magic, but your experience is thin. Building that takes time, but I’ll teach you some tricks.”
Boon and Mist listened attentively.
“First, Boon, you use necromancy, right? Not sure why you stick to body enhancement and minor reshaping, but try more creative combat approaches. Don’t just boost muscles and bones—enhance your nerves for faster reactions.”