Monster.

That's what people had called Velraeth for as long as she could remember.

And she'd loved every second of it.

Even as a youngling brat running wild through Dracolia's volcanic peaks, she knew she was different from her peers.

Violent, chaotic, utterly unhinged in ways that made adult dragons nervous.

Thrice as prideful and many times as hard-headed.

There were times where other younglings tried to bully her once.

Once.

After that, they went home in tears with arms or legs missing, screaming about the crazy crimson-haired demon who laughed while ripping them apart as she bathed in their blood.

A child that's too sadistic and violent.

Their parents complained to hers, demanding discipline and control.

Her parents just looked terrified and apologetic, like they'd spawned something they couldn't understand or contain.

Velraeth had stood there grinning, spitting blood, basking in the fear radiating from everyone around her.

Monster.

The word wasn't an insult to her.

It was the biggest compliment there was.

A recognition of her superiority, her destined path toward the absolute peak of power.

She'd known from the very beginning that she was built different, made for greatness that normal beings could never comprehend.

The weak called her a monster because they couldn't do anything else.

They couldn't match her strength… couldn't understand her drive… the pure euphoria of constant battle and endless growth.

So they slapped a label on her and hoped it would somehow diminish what she represented.

It never did.

She wore the title like a crown, embraced it with manic glee, and used it to fuel her reckless pursuit of stronger opponents and more chaotic carnage.

Monster?

Damn right she was a monster.

She was the prodigy among the prodigies there was.

Others who would take countless years to achieve a mastery, she would accomplish it if not better in just a few months.

She was the best damn monster anyone would ever see.

"...!"

Was…

… Because for the first time in her entire life, she found herself thinking that same word while staring at someone else.

A pure monster.

The man in front of her was absolutely insane.

The human in front of her… swung a massive buster sword toward her with movements that shouldn't be physically possible for someone with his build.

The weapon was easily thrice his size, a heap of dark steel that would crush most enhanced humans under its weight alone.

And yet he wielded it.

Not gracefully, not with the refined power that was flowing like water…

But with insane raw power and frightening adaptability that made up for technical imperfection through sheer bloody-minded persistence.

His entire body strained with full visible effort.

Every vein stood out against his skin, every muscle group bulging as he forced the massive blade through attack patterns that should require twice his strength.

The concentration on his face was absolute, total focus that blocked out everything except the weapon in his hands and the opponent in front of him.

And the technique.

The goddamned technique that made Velraeth's grin widen with manic excitement.

Mid-expert proficiency.

He'd achieved mid-expert proficiency with a weapon type he'd literally never touched until a few days ago.

Most warriors trained for years to reach that level with their chosen armament…!

Even she! It took her two months before she reached an expert-level!

And yet, Nero had done it in less than a week through nothing but brutal repetition and that broken learning adaptability of his as if he's a hungry sponge absorbing everything she threw at him!

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Velraeth's laughter boomed across the training ground as she met his attack head-on.

Her scaled fist intercepted the descending blade with enough force to send shockwaves rippling through the air.

*BOOOOMMM!*

The impact drove her back half a meter, boots carving trenches through stone as momentum transferred through the collision point.

Dust exploded around them in a thick cloud that obscured vision entirely.

For a split second, everything went white.

Then movement.

*Woooosh!*

An arrow whistled through the dust cloud with lethal precision, passing so close to Velraeth's neck she felt wind displacement against her scales.

The projectile's passage cleared the smoke enough to reveal Nero's position.

The buster sword was already gone and in his hand was a fully drawn dark bow, ready to kill its prey.

His hands moved with smooth efficiency as he nocked three arrows simultaneously across the string.

*Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!*

All three shots launched in rapid succession, each one tracking different angles to prevent easy dodging.

The power behind them was ridiculous, velocities matching the speed of an anti-material sniper rifle.

And the accuracy.

Perfect grouping despite doing a multi-shot, targeting vital points with the precision of someone who'd trained in archery all day and night for years.

"HAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Amazing!

Superb!

This human had also developed expert-level marksmanship in the same impossibly short timeframe!

Absolutely insane!

Velraeth didn't bother dodging.

She charged directly into the arrow barrage, fists raised to intercept.

*BOOOMMM!*

Her strikes deflected the projectiles with explosive force, but the impacts actually hurt.

Her hands went numb from the collisions, an unfamiliar sensation that made her grin wider.

She glanced down at her scaled knuckles.

Cracks.

The human actually managed to injure her!

… Tiny fractures were spreading through the draconic scale on her arms that could normally shrug off even the toughest weapons without a scratch.

A thin line of blood leaked from the tiny cracks.

"HAHAHAHAHAHA!"

… Before her regeneration kicked in and sealed it instantly.

The numbness faded as fast as it appeared, superhuman healing erasing damage almost as quickly as it formed.

But the fact that he'd managed to crack her scales at all was VERY significant.

Velraeth licked her upper lip as her excitement surged to new heights, preparing to lunge forward.

If the human could now handle this kind of strength, surely she could up her power more, right?!

*Creak!*

Her muscles tensed with power that the ground beneath her started to creak. The dragon woman was gathering for a strike that would push him to his new absolute breaking point now!

If he would not be careful and take this head on…

Then he would—

*FWEEEEET!*

A sharp whistle cut through the air.

One of the watching summons, a dogkin woman assigned as referee for today's session, blew the time-out signal with apologetic determination.

Nero heard it and immediately dropped his combat stance.

Relief flooded his expression as he let the Condemnation of the Dawn in a bow form collapse back into shortsword and fell directly onto his ass.

His whole body ached like a bitch.

Every muscle screamed protest, his mana reserves sat dangerously close to empty, and his regeneration had slowed to a crawl from overuse.

He immediately activated Metalloid Transformation purely to take advantage of the enhanced recovery rate, then collapsed backward onto the ground with a groan that suggested moving was no longer optional.

"Tch."

Meanwhile, Velraeth clicked her tongue in annoyance.

The fun had just been getting started, and now they were stopping?

Bullshit.

… But she had to follow the rules.

That nosy elf brat (Luna) and that upright bird (Aurelia) had complained endlessly about Nero showing up to their training sessions beaten half to death and completely drained each time.

So they'd implemented a referee system with strict time limits to prevent Velraeth from draining him during their "practical assessments" (Death Battle).

Which was ridiculous because she totally knew how to hold back.

She just never saw the point in doing it.

Why weaken yourself for someone else's comfort?

That's what the weak did.

The dogkin referee raised her hand in a gesture of finality, laughing nervously when she caught Velraeth's glare.

"Ha. Ha… J-Just following the rules, Lady Velraeth. Don't shoot the messenger!"

Velraeth crossed her arms under her ample chest and huffed.

"..."

At the edge of the training ground, Nero finally recovered enough energy to stand.

He deactivated Metalloid Transformation and started walking away without waiting for dismissal.

"Oi, where are you going?"

Velraeth's voice carried genuine confusion.

"Training isn't over yet, human."

"I know."

Nero didn't even look back, just waved one hand dismissively over his shoulder.

"I'm going to check on Celis."

His tone was flat, distracted.

The usual casual confidence had been replaced by something heavier that made his footsteps sound more tired than they should.

Velraeth watched him go, her sharp eyes catching the frown that hadn't left his face since he'd arrived for training this morning.

Something was bothering him.

Actually bothering him, not just providing minor inconvenience.

She'd seen this human face down SR-tier monsters with that same relaxed grin, joke his way through life-threatening situations, and maintain composure under pressure that would break most people.

But now?

Now he looked genuinely worried.

"..."

Velraeth uncrossed her arms and made a decision.

"I'm coming too."

"Hm."

Nero just nodded without breaking stride.

His mind was clearly somewhere else entirely, preoccupied by thoughts that wouldn't let him focus properly on anything else.

And Velraeth knew exactly why.

Celis still hadn't woken up.

Two full days had passed since Felt found her collapsed and unconscious, and despite every healer in their settlement examining her, despite Luna running every diagnostic spell in her considerable arsenal, despite Aurelia's divine healing attempts...

Nothing had changed.

The First Saintess remained unconscious, her condition is stable but she was showing no signs of improvement.

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