Orpheus woke up the day after and decided to visit the training arena for some exercise as a way to prepare for the battle scheduled in two days. As he made his way to the arena, he suddenly realized that he had forgotten his rapier and shield, the only items he had brought with him to the camp when he ventured outside the protected walls of the Roiford family's castle.

With a sigh of frustration, Orpheus retraced his steps back to his quarters to retrieve his forgotten weapons. He knew that proper preparation and training were essential if he wanted to face the upcoming battle successfully. After securing his rapier and shield, he once again headed to the training arena, determined to make the most of his practice session and hone his skills for the challenges that lay ahead.

Watching the mighty warriors spar against each other, Orpheus shifted his gaze to the warriors sparring against training dummies. These dummies were created by magical means, designed to mimic the warriors' fighting style to help them identify openings and refine their own combat techniques.

Orpheus found himself standing before the arena's administrator, an elderly man with a flowing white beard and deep gray eyes that seemed to hold a wealth of experience. The administrator was adorned in a resplendent suit of golden medium-weight armor, which gleamed in the sunlight. His most striking feature was the war chain he held, adorned with an impressive 50 locks, signifying his authority.

Approaching the administrator respectfully, Orpheus saluted and inquired, "Excuse me, sir. Could you assist me in reserving a training dummy?"

The administrator studied Orpheus for a moment and then spoke, "Hmmm, you're new here, aren't you? Show me your army token, young one."

Orpheus presented his medium-level warrior card, bearing the insignia of his rank. The administrator examined it closely before delivering his verdict, "Since you're new here, you can use the training arena free of charge for the next two weeks."

His tone left no room for negotiation, and it was clear that he meant business. Orpheus thanked the administrator and proceeded to make his reservation, eager to continue his training and preparations for the upcoming battle.

"Thank you, sir," Orpheus acknowledged with a nod. As he completed the interaction, he felt a sudden sensation as if he were being transported to a different realm within the arena.

After the teleportation process concluded, Orpheus found himself standing on a flat, featureless terrain, with the enchanted training dummy positioned directly in front of him. The dummy appeared ready for combat.

Without hesitation, Orpheus lunged at the training dummy, brandishing his rapier with confidence. However, to his surprise, the dummy effortlessly deflected his initial attack with ease. In a swift and unexpected move, the training dummy transformed its hand into a rapier, mimicking Orpheus's with determination, Orpheus launched a rapid slash towards the training dummy, executing his move with precision. However, the dummy reacted swiftly, jumping to evade his attack, displaying impressive agility.

Orpheus couldn't help but smile as he appreciated the challenge. Quickly adapting to the situation, he outmaneuvered the dummy, getting beneath it and grabbing its head.

Eager to continue, Orpheus unleashed another slash towards the dummy, but the agile training construct moved swiftly, effortlessly evading his strike as if it were child's play. Then, in a surprise move, the training dummy countered, launching a strike towards Orpheus.

Recognizing the danger, Orpheus leaped into the air to avoid the impending attack, but the dummy's strike found its mark, connecting

Orpheus found himself in the midst of an unending ordeal within the training arena. No matter how agile his movements or how sharp his instincts, the relentless blows from the dummy struck him relentlessly. It was as if the inanimate object possessed a mind of its own, anticipating his every action.

His senses were inundated with the constant barrage of strikes. Every attempt to avoid the blows ended in failure, each impact more punishing than the last. Frustration and bewilderment welled up within him as he grappled with the torment.

Orpheus refused to succumb to despair. He focused his every thought on deciphering the enigma of the training dummy. He sought patterns, weak points, any hint of vulnerability that might offer an escape from this relentless assault.

Each strike intensified the torment, yet Orpheus persevered. Beads of sweat dripped down his forehead, and his muscles ached from the ceaseless exertion. His determination burned brighter than ever as he resolved to unravel the mystery of the merciless dummy and emerge from this crucible stronger than before.

With a newfound determination, Orpheus began to move smoothly, employing tactics he had never used before. He swiftly maneuvered under the dummy's towering frame, utilizing his agility to his advantage. In a coordinated flurry of movements, he executed a skillful attack from below, striking the dummy's core with precision.

As he leaped into action, his blows landed on the dummy's heart, beating with an otherworldly rhythm. Orpheus felt the satisfying impact of his strikes, as if he had finally uncovered the chink in the dummy's armor. The relentless training had honed his reflexes and intuition, allowing him to adapt and seize the moment.

With each precise strike, he inched closer to mastering the enigmatic training dummy, turning the relentless torture into an opportunity for growth and skill refinement.

Orpheus realized that this was an illusion, a clever trick designed to test his combat instincts. He began to discern the patterns governing the creation of these illusions, grasping the concept behind their construction. To effectively combat such illusions, he understood that he needed to employ a strategy of quick and unexpected changes in attack direction.

With newfound clarity, he engaged in a battle of wits with the training dummy. He would initiate an attack, only to swiftly alter its trajectory, throwing off the illusion's deceptive nature. This approach allowed him to gain the upper hand, as he meticulously deciphered the intricacies of the illusion's design.

Orpheus had always been a quick learner, and now he was adapting rapidly to this unique challenge. With each successive exchange, he honed his ability to see through the illusions, transforming the relentless training into a valuable lesson in combat strategy and an adaptability.

Orpheus delved into the intricacies of creating a flawless illusion, realizing that speed played a pivotal role in its success. He understood that being swift and decisive when dealing with opponents was crucial for crafting a convincing illusion.

As he delved deeper into perfecting this art, Orpheus encountered challenges in enhancing his speed. It proved to be a daunting task, especially in his current state of exhaustion. The mental and physical strain from his training had left him drained, making the pursuit of heightened speed even more arduous.

Orpheus couldn't help but wonder how he could overcome this hurdle and continue to refine his abilities. The exhaustion weighed on him, but his determination to master the art of illusion kept him pushing forward, knowing that speed was the key to perfecting his craft.

Orpheus concluded a full day of intense training, pushing his limits until exhaustion took over. He retreated to his tent, seeking respite from the demanding routine. The following day, he returned to the arena, determined to continue his practice. Along the way, he unexpectedly crossed paths with Serjios.

Orpheus greeted him warmly, inquiring about his well-being. "Hello, Serjios, how are you doing?" he asked.

Serjios responded, "I'm doing fine, Orpheus. I just wanted to check out the arena today."

Orpheus seized the opportunity for companionship, suggesting, "Well, I'm heading to the arena as well. How about we go together?"

Serjios readily agreed, and the two companions made their way to the training grounds. Upon their arrival, Orpheus couldn't help but be captivated by the sight of warriors engaged in sparring sessions. He observed their techniques with interest before turning to Serjios.

"Hay, Serjios, do you want to have some fun?" Orpheus proposed, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

Serjios was enthusiastic about the idea. "Why not have a little spar, Orpheus?" he suggested with a grin. Orpheus eagerly accepted the challenge, and the two of them headed to the arena's administrator to reserve a sparring room.

Once they were ready, they squared off against each other. Serjios broke the silence, asking, "So, who starts first?"

With a hint of impatience, Orpheus responded, "Let's not waste any more time. I'll begin."

With those words, Serjios wasted no time in launching himself at Orpheus. The speed of his attack left Orpheus impressed and motivated, silently acknowledging to himself that it was the kind of speed he aspired to achieve in his own training.

Orpheus raised his shield to block the incoming attack, but he still took another hit. Serjios grinned, saying, "Well, I have two knives, you know."

Orpheus chuckled and replied, "Good, very good! This is the kind of fun I was talking about. Hahaha. But I also have my tricks."

As he swung his rapier, Orpheus directed an elusive attack at Serjios.

"Okay, you have quite the annoying style, don't you?" Serjios said. "Don't tell me I'll stand here watching you attack me without doing anything," Orpheus replied while executing another attack.

Serjios moved quickly to dodge the slash that was coming toward him. He then threw one of his knives at Orpheus, but Orpheus managed to avoid it.

"Now you have just one knife," Orpheus remarked.

"And you have just one rapier," Serjios retorted. "Although I lost the advantage, you didn't have it from the beginning. That's the difference between me and you," Serjios said confidently.

At that moment, he launched another attack at Orpheus.

"You're wrong. Even with your two knives, this is not your advantage," Orpheus responded while blocking Serjios' knife.

After that, he sent out around ten attacks, all of which Serjios skillfully avoided. But Orpheus had created all this commotion as a distraction.

He knelt and grabbed Serjios' knife that was lying on the ground. "Now I have two weapons, while you have only one," Orpheus said.

Then, he sent a slash toward Serjios, but Serjios quickly ran to avoid it.

"You've never used a knife except as a toy when you were a kid. What's the difference between you and someone who doesn't know how to fight? You're powerful when it comes to swords and all their types, but you're just a kid when it comes to using knives," Serjios remarked, highlighting the contrast in their combat skills, particularly Orpheus's limited experience with knives.

"Just a short sword, isn't it?" Orpheus commented as he skillfully dodged an attack from Serjios using Serjios's own knife.

Serjios managed to disarm Orpheus by snatching the knife from his hand. "No, it's not," Serjios replied confidently. "Now watch how I'll defeat you with these knives."

With a swift motion, Serjios sent his knives flying toward Orpheus. Orpheus, equally agile and quick-witted, managed to evade the first knife skillfully. He leaped gracefully to avoid the second knife that was heading for his eyes.

Orpheus's movements were fluid and precise, demonstrating his agility and resourcefulness in the heat of battle.

Orpheus confidently declared, "Now it's my turn." He swung his rapier with remarkable precision and force. As Serjios faced the attack, he could feel an almost sentient will behind it. It left him in awe, making him think, "Well, this is dangerous. I've never thought that something like this could exist."

The intensity of the duel between Orpheus and Serjios continued to grow, with each of them discovering new layers of skill and power within themselves.

The symphony of battle filled the air as the clash of Orpheus's rapier and Serjios's knives resonated, creating a captivating and intense atmosphere for all the spectators.

Serjios couldn't help but sense the growing danger in Orpheus's attacks. He noted the remarkable transformation in his opponent's fighting style, recognizing that Orpheus had become even more lethal than he should have been. This realization pushed Serjios to focus with greater intensity, understanding that he needed to bring his A-game to the fight to keep up with Orpheus's newfound prowess.

Orpheus has transformed into a monstrosity, Serjios thought to himself, witnessing the change in his opponent. He realized that Orpheus was now relying on his instincts rather than conventional tactics.

As Orpheus launched a devastating attack, Serjios blocked it and simultaneously sent his knives flying toward Orpheus. With all his might, he focused on the knives, attempting to feel their existence in his heart, much like the powerful warrior he had met the previous day in the camp library. However, to his dismay, he couldn't sense anything. There was no connection or feeling as the man had described to him, leaving Serjios frustrated and puzzled.

Determined to change the course of the battle, Serjios thought to himself, "I just have to use something else. If my knives don't work, then what about my body?" He met Orpheus's next attack with his fists, revealing his proficiency in martial arts.

At this point, Serjios decided it was his turn to take the offensive. He launched a strike of his own at Orpheus, followed by another and another. He showered Orpheus with a barrage of strikes and kicks. Orpheus struggled to keep up with this shift in Serjios's fighting style. Despite his newfound power, he found it challenging to adapt.

Even though he felt more clear-headed than ever before, he still had trouble dealing with Serjios's relentless and versatile attacks. This battle showcased Serjios's adaptability and skill, making it an intense and unpredictable clash of combat styles.

Orpheus began feeling that as if he didn't sleep for ages

The mental exhaustion had begun to take its toll on his body, leaving his movements far from perfect. Serjios seized the opportunity, finding the best opening to strike. He unleashed a flurry of blows with his fists, targeting Orpheus' face, stomach, and head, obliterating anything that could be smashed in Orpheus's body.

Orpheus now struggled even to think clearly; it felt like a Herculean task. He knew he needed a reward just for standing and attempting to think straight.

Orpheus understood that he had to remain standing, even when he knew he was likely to lose this spar. His pride wouldn't allow him to give up, even if it meant he might end up losing an arm or a leg. However, Orpheus also realized that Serjios wouldn't go to such extremes during a friendly spar. Serjios was ruthless, and he didn't care if he injured a living man and devoured him.

This is how Serjios acted with his enemies. But when it came to his allies and trusted ones, he would go to great lengths to protect them, even willing to risk his life. While Orpheus was preoccupied contemplating Serjios's character, Serjios continued his onslaught of attacks. He knew that Orpheus had a strong ego and wouldn't back down easily.

"Just give up, Orpheus," Serjios said. However, Orpheus was so weakened that he feared even speaking might cause him to collapse. Despite Orpheus's silence, Serjios persisted with his relentless assault. Orpheus felt as if he were some kind of heretic, condemned to be stoned to death.

And he dropped to the ground unconscious

Serjios gazed down at Orpheus, who lay on the ground with numerous wounds. A sense of triumph washed over Serjios, and he marveled at the sweetness of victory. It was no wonder that everyone sought to experience this feeling at least once in their lifetime, he thought to himself.

As the room started glowing with an ethereal light, Serjios watched in utter confusion. The luminous spectacle emitted an aura of indescribable majesty, leaving Serjios in awe of the inexplicable phenomenon unfolding before him.

His astonishment only deepened as he noticed something even more peculiar: all these radiant lights were converging toward a single point in the room, and that point was none other than Orpheus. Despite the bewildering situation, Serjios instinctively stepped closer to protect his sparring partner, unsure of what was happening but driven by an innate sense of responsibility.

Then came the most extraordinary revelation of all. As these radiant lights gently touched Orpheus, Serjios couldn't help but notice that Orpheus's wounds were slowly but steadily healing. It was as if the lights carried with them a miraculous, rejuvenating energy that had the power to mend his injuries.

Serjios stood there, speechless and perplexed, as the room bathed in a surreal luminance and Orpheus's wounds seemed to vanish before his very eyes. The inexplicable event marked a turning

Orpheus lay unconscious, his body bathed in the mysterious, healing lights that had emanated from the room. His chest rose and fell rhythmically with each breath, but he was completely unaware of the miraculous events transpiring around him. For now, he was lost in the depths of his unconscious mind, while the enigmatic lights continued their work on his battered body. Serjios watched over his fallen comrade, a mix of awe and concern on his face, as he waited for Orpheus to regain consciousness

After around 10 minutes, or at least it felt like that to Serjios, Orpheus's wounds were completely healed. His body now bore no traces of the fierce spar they had engaged in earlier. Despite the visible recovery, Orpheus remained unconscious, leaving Serjios in contemplation. He couldn't help but marvel at the potent magic that permeated the sparing room, granting it the unique ability to mend the injuries of warriors who entered its confines. This newfound knowledge left Serjios both intrigued and somewhat apprehensive, as the room held secrets and powers far beyond anything he had encountered before.

Serjios had assisted Orpheus in returning to his tent, guiding him through the camp's labyrinthine pathways. With care and caution, he laid Orpheus down on his sleeping mat, ensuring his comfort. Then, without a word, he left for his own tent.

The passing of time was unmeasured in Orpheus's unconscious state. It felt like an eternity or merely a fleeting moment, and his mind existed in a realm between dreams and reality. When he finally stirred, he found himself inside the familiar confines of his tent. As his senses gradually returned, he absorbed the room's dimly lit surroundings—the canvas walls, the subtle sounds of camp life outside, and the scent of the fabric.

Memories from his recent sparring match with Serjios flooded his consciousness. The scuffle, his relentless attempts to best his formidable opponent, the exhilaration of battle—they all danced through his mind like wisps of smoke. And then, the sudden surge of power that coursed through his veins during the duel—the source of which was still a mystery to him. It had felt like a tide of energy, awakening his body and mind in a profound way.

But what intrigued Orpheus the most was the subsequent state he had entered. A state of heightened clarity. It was as if a veil had been lifted, allowing him to perceive the world with uncanny precision. He could feel every fiber of the fabric beneath him, hear the faintest rustle of wind outside, and see even in the dimmest of lights. His thoughts had been sharp, precise, and unburdened.

He gazed around his tent, his gaze resting on the simple possessions that were strewn about—a small collection of books, a lockbox, his well-maintained weapons, and a picture of his family, all reminders of the life he had left behind. But as he gazed upon them, he couldn't help but think about the person he had been before this newfound clarity had descended upon him.

And then, the recollection of a dark moment surfaced—a moment when his strength had utterly abandoned him. It was a memory he couldn't escape, one that hung over him like a shadow. During his encounter with Serjios, he had pushed himself to the limit, driven by an unrelenting determination to best his opponent. He had wanted to prove himself, to demonstrate his worth in the presence of a skilled warrior. Yet, in the midst of their fierce exchange, a pivotal turning point had occurred.

As he thought back on it, Orpheus realized that he had become overconfident, fueled by his newfound abilities. He had felt invincible, and it had cost him dearly. His body, strained beyond its limits, had eventually given in, leaving him weakened and vulnerable. He had watched helplessly as his foe had launched a final attack that had struck him with brutal force.

Orpheus had crumpled to the ground, helpless and in pain. It was a humbling and painful moment for him—one that shook his understanding of power and vulnerability. He remembered the sensation of lying there, as though every ounce of strength had seeped from his body. It was a sensation he never wanted to experience again, a feeling of utter helplessness in the face of a powerful adversary.

Now, as he lay in his tent, a myriad of thoughts and emotions swirled within him. He was grateful for the newfound clarity that had sharpened his perception and allowed him to experience life in a new and vivid way. Yet, he also carried the weight of his recent defeat, a reminder of the need for balance and humility. Orpheus understood that there was still much to learn, and he couldn't allow his pride to lead him astray.

Engrossed by other matters, Orpheus found himself preoccupied. He was determined to uncover a method to make his money more practical, especially the funds he had brought with him from the Roiford family. Glok, with his wealth of knowledge, seemed like the perfect person to assist him in this endeavor.

However, a significant obstacle stood in his way. Glok resided in an exclusive section of the camp, one that required a level of access that Orpheus had not yet obtained. Faced with this challenge, Orpheus decided to navigate the camp's hierarchy to make his request. He headed toward the contact building, where he could formally request access to the living quarters of the camp's captains. Orpheus was resolute in his pursuit of a solution to his monetary predicament, and he would not be easily deterred by obstacles in his path.

Orpheus found himself in a bustling section of the camp, where people thronged around a building. It was clear that everyone here had their own urgent business, most of them either carrying letters to send or harboring a burning desire to communicate with someone from the esteemed ranks of the camp.

Orpheus approached a man stationed in front of a rather complex-looking apparatus. He spoke with a respectful tone, "Greetings, great sir. May I request the use of this apparatus to send a letter to a friend residing in the captains' corridors?"

The man operating the device turned his attention from the contraption to Orpheus. He was a peculiar figure with luscious, waist-length black hair, and Orpheus couldn't help but notice that this appearance seemed rather unusual. In Livrosia, such a deviation from traditional gender norms was frowned upon. Men who attempted to present themselves as women were believed to be under a curse from the Supreme, which added an extra layer of complexity to this man's unusual appearance.

It was evident that Orpheus was not receiving much attention from the contact man, which irritated him. Nevertheless, he persisted in stating his request.

"Can I talk with a friend of mine who lives in the captains' corridors?" Orpheus asked.

The contact man, still seemingly disinterested, inquired, "What is his name?"

Orpheus promptly replied, "Glok Roiford."

The contact man proceeded to request Orpheus's army token for verification. Orpheus handed it over for inspection. After verifying the authenticity of the token, the man placed it on the message crystal, sending a message to Glok requesting permission for Orpheus to speak with him. Glok approved the request, and Orpheus informed him that he required a private conversation that couldn't be explained through a message crystal. With Glok's consent, Orpheus was allowed to enter the captains' corridors.

Entering the area where the captains resided, Orpheus found himself entranced by the beauty of this place. There was a stark contrast between the quarters of the warriors and those of the captains. This area resembled the residence of a lower-status noble, and Orpheus couldn't help but be captivated by the opulence of the surroundings.

When Orpheus entered Glok's residence, he was further captivated by the setting, which bore a striking resemblance to the Roiford palace. Glok was busy working on a spell of his own, but upon noticing Orpheus' arrival, he paused his work to greet him.

Orpheus couldn't help but tease Glok, saying, "Look who's calling this place humble. You've practically created a copy of the Roiford palace." He said this with a playful smile on his face.

Orpheus, curious about Glok's work, asked, "What are you working on?"

Glok's face lit up with excitement as he replied, "I'm planning to create a pocket dimension that allows me to store my entire house inside it."

Orpheus chuckled, commenting, "Sorcerers are indeed quite eccentric, I must say."

They spent some time laughing and chatting, and then Glok inquired about the important matter Orpheus had mentioned.

Orpheus explained, "You know, I brought some money to the camp, but I've discovered that there's no use for it. I was wondering if there's a way to transform this money into army points."

Glok considered Orpheus's request, saying, "There is a method, but it takes quite some time. So, when do you need the money?"

Orpheus replied, "I need it by tomorrow."

Glok frowned and asked, "Well, I can't do much in that case. Tell me, why do you need the money?"

Orpheus revealed, "I want to buy armor for the battle tomorrow."

Glok thought for a moment and then offered, "I have an extra set of armor that I don't need. You can have it."

With a wave of his hand, Glok used a spell to conjure the armor out of thin air. It appeared as a black robe adorned with golden runes engraved on it. As Orpheus touched it, he could feel the metallic pattern and was amazed that it didn't look like any ordinary metal at all.

Orpheus hesitated, feeling as though he was stealing the armor from Glok. "Are you sure you want me to have this?" he asked.

Glok reassured him, "Yes, I'm sure about it, so take it and don't be shy."

But it look very powerful Orpheus retorted

Glok insisted, "Just shut up and take it." Orpheus accepted the generous gift, realizing that this armor could be a valuable asset for the upcoming battle. Thank you Orpheus said

"It's nothing," Glok replied, downplaying the significance of the gift. "Hey, don't forget to come after the battle because this armor has many features and skills that I must show you how to use. There's even an active ability that makes this armor impenetrable to ordinary weapons." Orpheus was both grateful and intrigued by the possibilities that this new armor offered.

After that Orpheus After that, Orpheus exited Glok's residence and returned to his tent, where he spent the rest of the day lost in thought.