Thomas raised his hand, stopping Nobi.

"Stop. That's enough," he commanded sternly.

Nobi sighed and sheathed her sword at her hip.

Thomas turned his gaze to the young slime. "You're Level 89, right?"

"You already used Appraisal… but you're still asking?" Slime#47 mumbled. Still, he nodded.

"Good." Thomas grinned. "Then we'll train you to reach Level 100—and find you a battle style."

"Battle style?" Young Slime asked, tilting his head.

Instead of answering directly, Thomas asked, "Just now, how many skills did you use?"

"My skills…" Slime#47 replied instantly. "Less than ten, I guess."

The instructor nodded. "Yes—around ten. But how many skills do you possess?"

"Far more than a couple of dozen," Young Slime answered without hesitation.

"Yes." Thomas's eyes narrowed. "You don't utilize them, do you?"

Then he answered his own question.

"Some skills become obsolete. They're not power-efficient because they can't evolve—or because you gain better skills as you level up and tier up."

Young Slime nodded.

Nobi folded her arms and stared blankly at the ceiling lamps.

"This is where battle style comes in," Thomas said, raising his index finger.

"A battle style lets a person focus on one fixed combat path." His tone turned instructive. "It increases power by discarding useless skills."

He explained slowly, "Discard doesn't mean throwing them away. You can still use them."

"But when you don't rely on those skills inside that style—and focus only on the ones you truly need—your overall combat becomes sharper and stronger."

Slime#47's thoughts clicked into place.

He recalled a style he had temporarily inherited from his future self when fighting the sealed artifacts' vessels in Ruins City Lunixa.

But he hadn't focused on it. He dismantled the artifacts, and within moments, that power vanished.

So he never gained a clear understanding of the style.

Now he listened closely, not wanting to miss anything.

Then—

Disappointment.

"How many months do you have left?" Thomas asked.

'Months…? Does everyone else get months?' Young Slime sensed bias, but answered honestly. "Twenty-three days."

The moment he said days, nervousness returned.

Days were slipping by like blinking.

Thomas stared at him, expression blank. "Are you serious?" he asked doubtfully.

Young Slime nodded bitterly. "Yes. I got only one month."

Most would get years, in fact; the instructor had sensed Slime#47 was special, so he'd felt the young slime would get months—but he never imagined it would be just one month.

Thomas suddenly flashed in front of him—Whoosh!—and inspected him from every angle.

"Is there something special about him?" he muttered.

Under the lion's scrutiny, Young Slime felt embarrassed and rubbed his forehead.

After a moment, Thomas muttered, "He's a regular slime. Nothing special."

He rubbed his own forehead, still not understanding why—or which Demon King—had decided to give Slime#47 only one month.

Still, he couldn't deny it: Slime#47 was exceptional in combat.

After a few moments of thought, Thomas decided, "That's it. I'll go all out training you."

A chill ran through Slime#47 as the lion narrowed his eyes.

Nobi started sneaking away on tiptoe.

"This slime is done for," she muttered. 'Instructor Thomas's going all out… It's been a long while.'

She remembered the last time Thomas trained someone with ferocious intent.

A few hundred years ago, Thomas had trained a lizard demon.

Lizards were considered distant descendants of dragons, and it was nearly impossible for them to evolve into even impure dragons—much less match the pure-blooded ones.

But Thomas somehow forced it through.

The lizard he trained evolved into a pure golden dragon.

That incident shook the entire Demon Kingdom.

Even the entire Divinara trembled.

After all, if lizards could be trained into higher dragons, the dragon race's status would fall.

For a brief time, it seemed lizards might become one of the ruling races.

The dragon clan became a laughingstock to its rivals—the Phoenix clan and other high-end races.

Humans reacted even more violently.

Hero King Yuki entered Demon City Remorae and held discussions with Demon King Remora.

The demons reported everything because they didn't want an all-out war with humans.

Instructor Thomas and the newly evolved golden dragon were inspected and questioned by Yuki.

After learning the details, Yuki left with a wide grin instead of anger.

Later, everyone learned why.

The lizard had been trained brutally.

Every day, half—sometimes more—of his bones were shattered.

He fainted five to ten times a day.

And he hadn't slept or eaten properly for nearly fifteen years.

After learning that, the dragons—who had been preparing to wipe out the lizards—backed off.

They even honored the newly evolved dragon, since it elevated the dragon name again.

The dragons proudly declared, "It is very tough to become a dragon."

Then they returned to sleeping on their luxurious hoards, legs crossed, smug as ever.

----

Nobi swallowed hard. 'I need to escape.'

Thomas's gaze shifted to her.

"Join in," he said coldly. "You'll be trained together."

Nobi froze. Sweat broke out as a chill ran down her body.

'Is it really that tough… or am I overreacting?' Slime#47 wondered, watching her tremble.

Thomas pulled a mana recovery potion and an aura recovery potion from thin air and tossed them to Young Slime.

Slime#47 gulped them down immediately.

Thomas nodded, satisfied. "I'll explain the plan."

"First, I'll teach you a training technique. It involves training all body stats—Strength, Endurance, Dexterity, Agility…"

He continued, "When those increase, your mana and aura increase as well."

"And when everything rises, your level rises too."

'So, it's level up by training…' Young Slime mused, recalling Elder Slime's explanation.

Then Thomas asked sharply, "Do you know why this trial—the Demon King's Heir trial—is taken so seriously?"

Young Slime shook his head.

All he knew was that he would gain power—and he needed it to survive and create a safe area for his family, followers, and himself.

'I need to tell him,' Thomas thought. 'Or he'll give up halfway.'

After the lizard-to-dragon incident spread, no one came to train under him seriously anymore.

They all wanted light training—then leave.

Thomas sighed.

"It seems your times are too harsh," he said quietly, "if you're participating without even knowing the trial's importance."

After a pause, he added, "It's for the King's Mark."

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.