Chapter 133: Perfecting Dragon Claw
Julius massaged his head as he awoke, staring at the familiar ceiling of his room.
The wood above him creaked faintly in the cold air of the base. His body was wrapped in fresh bandages, clean and tight, and while they restricted his movements slightly, he was surprised at how little pain he felt now.
The dull ache of yesterday’s battle had dulled into a faint sting, something manageable.
’Actually getting hurled into a crater hurts like hell,’ he thought grimly, rolling his stiff shoulders.
His gaze drifted to the chair at the side of the bed where his clothes had been folded neatly.
A faint warmth touched his chest, though he quickly pushed it away. He could imagine Veyra being the one to fold them; she was annoyingly sentimental like that.
Except, no — he remembered clearly. Anthony had been the one who finished bandaging him.
Veyra had been too busy fawning over Azel, her hair practically glowing as she praised the man’s swordsmanship like an overeager child.
Meanwhile, Anthony, stoic as ever, had silently finished wrapping Julius up before taking the night watch.
He wasn’t jealous.
Not one bit.
’I actually feel sorry for him,’ Julius muttered inwardly. Veyra could be an incredibly annoying person when she got comfortable, almost suffocating in her cheer.
Drew had the patience to tolerate it, but Julius? He often felt like wringing her neck after ten minutes of her antics.
Azel, though... Azel had smiled through it, as if Veyra’s affection was some small burden he could shoulder easily.
Almost like he knew the feeling and was with women more dangerous than her.
Julius swung his legs off the bed, his bare feet meeting the cold wood floor, and reached for his clothes.
The bandages restricted his movements, but he pulled on his gear anyway, every action smooth and habitual.
He had one thing in mind: meditation. That was how he began every day, without fail. Before battles, before missions, before anything else.
He needed his shadows quiet, still, obedient.
When he finally left his room, the corridors of the base were quiet save for the faint crackle of the fireplace down the hall.
He peeked into Veyra’s room out of habit, and the sight nearly made him laugh aloud.
The woman was sprawled across her bed, snoring with abandon, her arms locked around a pillow as if it were a lover.
Julius shook his head. ’Just like her,’ he thought.
Drew, on the other hand, was absent — probably wandering somewhere in his usual half-conscious daze.
Anthony wasn’t much better off. Julius found him perched on a rock, head dipped forward, eyes shut tight, snoring softly.
Sleeping while sitting upright, still gripping his spear.
Julius couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath.
’He deserves the rest,’ he thought. Throwing that spear around like he had yesterday had taken no small amount of energy.
When Julius stepped into the backyard, however, the chuckle caught in his throat.
His usual meditation spot — the quiet patch where the snow melted slightly under the mana flows of the earth was already occupied.
Azel was there.
The man stood shirtless with his sword raised, cutting through the air in a clean, singular strike.
His movements were sharp but measured, his eyes narrowed with calm focus. What struck Julius most was the silence of it.
No aura accompanied the slash, no visible burst of energy. It was a simple swing.
"Good morning, Julius," Azel said without turning, lowering his sword in a smooth arc.
His voice was calm, almost casual. "Nice weather we’re having."
Julius blinked, snowflakes drifting lazily past him.
It was snowing hard enough that the ground crunched under his boots, and his breath fogged the air in front of him.
"Nice weather," huh?
That probably wasn’t the right thing to say, but Azel didn’t seem to notice — or maybe he didn’t care.
"How did you know it was me?" Julius asked, curiosity slipping out despite himself. His steps crunched as he walked closer.
"Who else uses their shadow to spy on people like a pervert?" Azel replied smoothly, not even glancing his way.
Julius froze, heat rushing to his face. His jaw tightened.
"I—I am no pervert." His dead-eyed expression twitched, but Azel’s smirk made it worse.
"Anyway," Azel continued, raising his sword again, "is there any reason you’re here?"
Julius exhaled slowly through his nose, forcing the irritation down. "I usually come here to meditate," he said, his tone clipped.
He glanced around the backyard — it was nothing special. No crops, no tools, no signs of farming.
Crops didn’t grow in this frozen wasteland.
But someone, perhaps a long time ago, had planted hardy flowers along the wall. Their pale blue blossoms were the only spots of color in the snow.
This was where Julius always meditated, letting the stillness center him.
"I’ll just start then," he muttered, settling into his usual spot. He crossed his legs and closed his eyes, letting the cold seep into him.
His shadow rippled faintly, wrapping around his body like a cloak.
WHOOSH!
The sound of air being cleaved ripped through his concentration. Azel’s sword cut downward in a practiced swing.
Julius grit his teeth but forced his eyes to remain shut.
’Calm mind... Still body... Flowing Shadows... Cancel all outside noi-’
WHOOSH!
Another swing, this one sharper. Julius felt the cold rush of displaced air graze his cheek. His eyes twitched.
His shadow trembled at the disturbance.
WHOOSH!
That was it.
His eyes snapped open, bloodshot with fury.
"The hell! Don’t you see I’m trying to meditate here?!" Julius barked, rising to his feet. Only Veyra had the ability to get him this agitated on a daily basis.
And now, Azel was on that short list.
"But I’m practicing my sword art," Azel replied calmly, almost too calmly, as if he hadn’t just ruined the entirety of Julius’s morning ritual.
His grip tightened on the hilt of his sword, the faintest shimmer of green light flickering along its edge. "It isn’t easy, but if you could spar with me, I’ll appreciate it."
Julius’s eyes narrowed, a vein throbbing on his temple. He reached for the daggers at his waist and pulled them free, the steel glinting faintly in the dim morning light. "If I break a few of your bones, maybe you’ll learn basic manners."
He positioned himself in front of a cluster of trees, sinking into a combat stance.
Shadows curled up around his legs, whispering against the snow like smoke.
Azel’s lips curved into a smile.
He raised his sword slowly, the glow intensifying. The green aura along the blade sharpened, gathering into a keen edge.
Julius moved first. He tore forward, shadows trailing behind him like a storm.
His daggers glimmered, fangs of midnight poised to strike.
He was ready to teach Azel a lesson, ready to remind him that swordplay wasn’t everything...
But then —
His head screamed.
Instinct shrieked at him.
His shadows pulled violently at his body.
There was danger.
He dove aside at the last possible second.
Azel’s sword flashed downward, and the world split open. An invisible strike tore through the snow like a silent predator’s claw.
The ground itself parted, carved open in a single arc. A second later, the invisible edge flared into a vivid green slash, slicing through everything in its path.
The air trembled. The trees groaned, then collapsed one after another, their trunks neatly severed.
Snow and bark exploded into the air before silence fell again.
The only sound left was the dull thud of the trees crashing to the ground.
Azel exhaled, lowering his sword.
A faint smile played at his lips as he turned slightly. "Phew... New and improved. Kyone, rate it."
[How?]