The rules of their training were as old as their shared isolation, deeply embedded in their history. Whenever Raiking trained Libinea, he had to suppress his cultivation.
The reason was straightforward:
He was a God.
He was an existence beyond mortal understanding. Even if he limited himself to the Peak of the Divine Stage—ostensibly aligning with a mortal's ultimate potential—his innate grasp of universal laws meant he could dismantle a Peak True Divinity before they even blinked.
To ensure fairness, he had to further handicap himself.
Standing in the moonlit courtyard, Raiking closed his eyes. The immense pressure emanating from him began to withdraw, folding inward like a collapsing star. He dialed down his existence, bypassing the Peak and settling at the Early Divine Stage.
Technically, he was now weaker than her.
This was the challenge. He would start below her level, allowing her to be faster and stronger. But as the spar progressed, he would gradually release his suppression, increasing his power to force her to adapt or falter.
Most cultivators would have their spirits crushed by such a method—engaging in a hopeless struggle against an ever-ascending mountain. Yet, Libinea never wavered. To her, each defeat was a lesson; each scar, a teacher.
Raiking opened his eyes. His void-black irises fixed on the woman standing across from him, clad in a loose white tunic.
"Are you ready?" Raiking asked, raising his wooden sword in a defensive stance.
Libinea didn't respond with words. Instead, she answered through movement. She became a blur, disappearing and reappearing as she advanced ever closer.
To the left, Raiking noted, catching sight of her afterimage. Then to the right.
Until suddenly, a gust of wind erupted from where she was last seen.
Raiking had no time to react; she was already within his guard before he could even inhale. As she closed the gap, she didn't clench her teeth or narrow her eyes in concentration as she usually did.
Instead, she did something unexpected, something out of the ordinary.
She smiled.
That smile was potent, capable of toppling kingdoms. Even a god would struggle to resist, and Raiking, who was beginning to see her as more than just an opponent, found himself ensnared.
"Focus," Libinea said with a captivating charm.
He shook his head in an attempt to regain his composure, but it was already too late; Libinea had begun to swing her sword downward.
Raiking intercepted her attack by seizing her wrist, stopping her motion entirely.
At that moment, it was the only move he could make, and she understood that as well.
She neither hesitated nor retreated.
Instead, she let go of the sword, and in a continuous motion, before the blade could hit the ground, she clasped his wrist with her hand.
Exploiting her current strength, she pulled him closer, initiating a spin that propelled them into the air toward the center of the courtyard.
Their figures twirled gracefully under the moon's gaze.
Her strength wasn't what held him; it was her mesmerizing golden amber eyes.
Like a moth drawn to a flame, he felt the heat of the phoenix emanating from her, the warmth of her breath brushing against his neck.
This wasn't the first time they had been this close. Brief encounters like these occurred often during their sparring sessions. They were easily dismissed.
But not anymore, not since she had overcome her inner struggles.
He recalled that moment atop the stargazing tower when he advised her that only by facing her past could she unravel the knots in her heart.
He hadn't anticipated that when she finally decided to stride confidently into her future—revealing her true self to the continent.
He, too, realized he could no longer dwell in the past.
For, in that moment, she was no longer the fragile phoenix dependent on his protection, nor was she the queen burdened by her people's expectations.
And now, before his eyes, as they drifted under the moonlight, he could see only one person.
"You've been staring at me for quite some time," she noted, her voice laced with a perilous sweetness. "Am I that captivating?"
Raiking smiled, releasing a soft laugh. In the same moment, with the sword still held in his free hand, he swung it forward with lethal precision, targeting her torso directly.
He sliced through ash as she dissolved into it, evading the attack and reappearing above him.
She summoned her sword, gripping it tightly as she descended toward Raiking.
CLANG.
Their swords clashed in a swift exchange of parries and slashes as they fell, sparks flying from the friction of wood against wood.
Libinea had the advantage of height. When the chance arose, she lifted her sword high.
She concentrated her energy. Azure flames erupted along the length of the wooden blade, not burning it, but enveloping it in a layer of destructive potential.
With a fierce motion, she brought it down.
Raiking blocked the strike just as his feet touched the ground.
BOOM.
The impact was substantial. The force drove him downward, his boots skidding backward, carving deep grooves into the ancient cobblestones.
She was relentless. She landed gracefully and instantly surged forward, delivering a barrage of slashes—left, right, overhead—each faster and heavier than the previous one.
Her combat instincts have grown much sharper, Raiking thought, feeling the grain of his wooden sword groan and splinter under the relentless pressure.
Raiking gritted his teeth.
"Very well."
He released the mental barrier.
HUMMM.
A shockwave of colorless energy erupted outward from his body.
His cultivation advanced.
Early Divine Stage to Medium Divine Stage.
The air in the courtyard screamed. The cherry blossom tree standing beside them shuddered violently. A shower of pink petals drifted down, caught in the sudden updraft of Raiking's power.
But they never touched the ground.
As the delicate petals entered Raiking's expanding aura, they didn't just blow away. They turned gray, withering in mid-air, their life force instantly eroded by the aura of Entropy.
The pressure around him doubled. His speed increased, and his skin hardened, rejecting the spiritual pressure of her attacks.
He wasn't faster than her yet. But now... he could stand his ground.