"With your skill, I wonder why your parents despise you so much," the man said boorishly. "I find it a little dishonorable to be beating up a young child."

Despite his valorous words, the sadistic glint in the man's eyes couldn't be hidden. Carrera was slightly disgusted by his fiendish temperament. Exalted were figures of high morality as those who ascended from their mortal shells. Or that was how most of the naïve populace believed them to be. The more an individual attained power would slowly bring out their true personality and thoughts to light. The stranger before her was one of such repulsive individuals.

Ignoring the man's words, her sword sang through the air. It's speed was eclipsed by her opponent's own moves. It was almost comical for her own abilities to be so overshadowed. Carrera thought she had grown used to being on the losing end- but her childish pride still persisted.

Her opponent held the height advantage, coupled with years of combat experience. Any Exalted capable of reaching Rank 1 wouldn't have attained their current status with anything less. They were forged into capable fighters through a multitude of experiences.

Not very good odds for an adolescent with a battered body. A mundane human could only reach such limits when compared to the superior constitution of an Exalted. Too bad she couldn't simply just lay down her sword and refuse to fight. It would only end up with more injuries on her side.

Wielding a silver spear, the man outfitted in crimson armor met her attacks with ease. His fighting style was like a serpent, coiling and striking with unparalleled lethality. Every thrust appeared like a blur in her eyes, nearly pulverizing her in multiple places if he wasn't holding back.

'Dammit,' she cursed in her mind. The most she could do was slightly avert his attacks. Using a trick she had picked up allowed her to minutely alter the trajectories of slashes. Tilting the flat of her blade, or angling the edge allowed her to move her blows off course. But it was extremely taxing, and required her to be fully concentrated. And the man before her was infatuated with ensuring he held the advantage.

She also still had her own pride. She wanted the man to at least feel a bit of stress. The arrogant attitude plastered on his face silently caused her heart to boil. For some reason, he was more repulsive then the previous contenders. The others wore looks of somberness, and didn't hold back with their dark feelings of what they were tasked with. This man on the other hand seemed to be enjoying himself.

Carrera wanted to prove to him, and her parents that she was still something worthy paying attention to. She didn't do it out of some necessity to regain their favor, but as a word of warning. If they underestimated her, she would make sure they regretted it. But it was easier said then done, only lofty words betrayed by the coldness of reality. She was only a mundane human at the moment, even the Exalted before her was a fly in the grand scheme of her father's might.

"I'd pay attention if I were you," the man taunted. He noticed her thoughts slipping, slight openings appearing in her form. Expected of a seasoned fighter. With a nonchalant attitude, he would parry her strikes with nonchalant ease. Add to insult, he wasn't even using mana at the moment.

It was a one-sided slaughter, and she was unable to absorb any information without getting beaten to a pulp. After all, she was only fourteen years old pitted against a seasoned warrior. A meaningless fight.

She had originally thought these set-up duels by her parents were a twisted form of training. A means to keep the blade they had so painstakingly forged sharpened. But it ended up just being an extension of their tantrum. They felt rotting in a cold cell wasn't already miserable enough.

'How unpleasant.'

The man eventually stopped for a moment, his mouth twitching. "This isn't very fun." He seemed to have grown tired of their fight. She couldn't tell whether it was because of her deteriorating condition, or she simply didn't live up to his expectations. Most likely a mixture of both.

With a grimace, she got to her feet. Much to the displeasure of the man across from her. The sooner she passed out, the earlier he would get to leave. By now he had most likely believed she wasn't all he chalked her up to be. But simply sending her into the other world with a powerful blow would be far less punishing then a drawn out battle, something her parents insisted.

Before she could rush at him, a translucent window unfurled itself from thin air. Examining the window for a second, the man sighed. The girl could vaguely depict strange letters and descriptions on the screen, but couldn't discern their meaning.

"Looks like its been enough time," he commented to himself. Promptly ignoring her confused expression, he moved with stunning speed. Despite not having a mana core, she distinctly felt the mana boiling in the air around her.

Before she could figure out what the window represented, nor listen to his words, the air was split asunder. The man's figure disappeared from a couple meters away, a tremendous pressure bearing down on her.

The hair on her arms prickled, a sense of danger looming above her head in a pressuring storm. She wanted to dodge, move in any method to avoid the lethal attack. But her body frozen, unable to move a single inch. A powerful force slammed into her side, instantly knocking her unconscious.

***

A voice floated from behind the steel door, clearing away the dim silence. It was like the sun peeking out from behind gray storm clouds, shedding warm light. With it, brought vitality and warmness to the land.

"Lady Carrera, it's me again."

She didn't make a sound as the door hinge unlatched, causing light to spill in. A women entered holding a leather satchel and lantern. With long black hair and green eyes, she exuded an air of pleasantness in a stark contrast to her surroundings.

'Miss Faye.'

Carrera had started warming up to Miss Faye, one of the only people who treated her like she was still human. Her job was to tend to the injuries plaguing Carrera's body. Too many injuries would make her unfit for battle after all.

The women before her was another exception that cracked her indifferent stone façade. Carrera felt it was impossible to juggle warm emotions with indifferent coldness that protected her from dark emotions.

Miss Faye hummed a lullaby as she worked, bandaging Carrera's cuts and wiping her with a warm towel. It filled the young lady with relief, the soft fabric caressing gently across her skin. It was disconcerting to admit she had never had a proper shower since being imprisoned. It was very disgusting, but she could only put up with it.

Miss Faye talked about her youngest son who had just turned seven, and her eldest daughter that took an interest in magic. She joked about her daughter blowing up their house if they got her husband to mentor her. While he was an experienced adventurer, he didn't specialize in teaching. Especially when the personalities between him and his daughter were like oil and water.

Carrera's expression clouded when she heard her talk about her family. Such things were strange and foreign to her. The idea a daughter could interact with her parents on such a casual level.

"Say, Lady Carrera, would you like to hear another tale?" The women asked, a motherly smile tugging at her lips. Carrera wondered what about her Miss Faye had taken a liking too. Her status had hit rock bottom, and she showcased nothing worth paying attention to.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Carrera hesitantly nodded. Miss Faye would also tell stories. Ranging from childhood bedtime stories, to heroic tales. She couldn't tell if it was the women's way of lightening the mood, or simply to pass the time. Either way, it was her only source of relaxing entertainment.

A warm smiled graced the women's face, as she applied ice to Carrera's bruises.

"Once upon a time, there lived a young boy. With a heroic spirit, he aspired to be just like his father; a valiant knight who protected the kingdom," she began.

"One day while adventuring through the forest, he encountered a witch. Despite being called such, she was actually quite beautiful and charming. She asked the young man what he desired. The boy said, 'I want to be a heroic knight, just like my father,' with zeal. The witch smiled, 'Every hero of justice requires a villain to defeat. I shall grant you the opportunity to become a hero.' With that, she left in a a cloud of smoke. What she left behind was a beautiful young maiden, who immediately captured the boy's heart. As time passed the two fell in love, and even after the boy grew into a man he forgot about the witch's words. He continued to live a carefree life with the lady who had become his wife."

Miss Faye stopped, as she stood up. Seemingly done with attending to Carrera's injuries. They still ached, but the pain had lessened considerably. It was reassuring she could spend the night without the incessant throbbing pains.

"What happens next?" Carrera asked curiously. The story sounded like a run of the mill tale about a boy becoming a hero. She had heard plenty of similar legends, and they were all similar. A boy aspires to be a hero, they encounter hardship, defeat a great enemy, become a hero. But Miss Faye's stories deviated from usual stereotypes, piquing her interest.

Miss Faye smiled, seemingly excited by Carrera's interest. But a shadow passed over her face as she continued.

"One day, when the man had become a full-fledged knight, a dragon attacked the kingdom. He was one of the first to appear before it, attempting to slay it. Yet, he felt something was off. The dragon behaved strangely, as if it wasn't used to moving its own body. With scared eyes it struggled to fly. But what happened shocked the man, when the dragon whispered his name. Its reptilian, rough voice still allowed him to vaguely hear the dragon calling his name. For some odd reason he could picture his beloved within the dragon, in a cruel twist of fate. His wife had turned into a dragon, and he was burdened with a choice. Would he slay his love and protect the kingdom, or turn on his fellow knights?"

Enraptured, Carrera spoke. "What happened next?"

The legend had deviated from a usual route. No matter how she looked at it, the story wouldn't have a happy ending. She also found the perceived moral dilemma perplexing. If he wanted to become a hero, was he willing to kill his wife to become one?

Miss Faye smiled, "That is for next time. Farewell, Lady Carrera."

Before she could voice her protest, she had already left with the iron door locking itself behind her. Carrera sighed in disappointment, leaning against the cold wall. She could only await the brutal spar that awaited her the next day.

***

Sweat pouring form her brow, arms aching in exhaustion, and breathing heavily; that was the current condition of the adolescent girl. Within her dull black eyes contained a slight spark, framed by a face contorted in a cruel grimace.

'He's strong,' she inwardly mused. The man before her was far different then any of her previous opponents. Not just in strength, but the air in which he carried himself made her believe he wasn't even an Exalted. It was like he had transcended such benign terms.

Readjusting her hold over her sword, she scrutinized the man before her. Prior to their first engagement, he projected a sleazy attitude. He had strolled into the arena with an air of nonchalance. Carrera didn't believe he was looking down on her, but he simply didn't seem to care. Which was even more frustrating. She had grown used to the hidden mockeries. But being observed as mere passing wind felt demeaning.

Ivory hair, and silver eyes framed a rugged face. His rough features hid a baffling charm, and she could feel his frame radiate a strong feeling of power. Despite his laid-back demeanor, his expression was hardened like he had seen everything life had to offer- the best and worst. Wielding two curved short swords, he danced like the current of a river whenever he moved.

His speed shocked Carrera. She ruthlessly commanded her battered body to keep up. Even when she poured all her effort into matching him, she had a small inkling he was only gauging her. As if the figure before her was thinking, 'Is that all?'

Carrera was enraptured, his sword technique the most beautiful art she had witnessed. Flowing in a beautiful dance reminiscent of an elegant river, while producing crushing swiftness. Such a contradictory combination was enrapturing. It left her in awe, mesmerized by the technique. She could feel the decades of effort and power the man had poured into honing his blade.

In a strange turn of events- he backed off, seemingly uninterested after their first exchange. This left her frustrated, the small hole in her pride from before widening. The figure before her was clearly superior to her previous opponents. And now he had silently deemed her as unworthy.

"You know, I have a son around your age. Not nearly as strong as you though, he's more interested in slacking off," the man said rather randomly. Carrera's lips twitched, a bubble of frustration making it's way to the surface of her emotions.

"What does that have to do with anything," Carrera responded harshly. "Can we get on with it?"

"You should be around the same age as him, that's all. You sort of remind me of him? I guess?" He responded with a confused expression, like he had forgotten what his own soon looked like.

"Ah! What I would do to see him again." With a laugh, a nostalgic air painted his expressions as if his mind had gone adrift. "You see, I owed your father a favor. 'Teach my foolish youngest a lesson, with your powers it should crush whatever remains of her spirit.' Bah, I'm not so heartless."

The man twirled one of the curved blades in his hands with stunning dexterity, a slight wind picking up around him. His expression sharpened like a razor, as he glanced at the ceiling; as if his vision could pierce through bedrock and observe the ruler of this domain.

"When did Trenus become so despicable?"

Hearing her father's name, Carrera's eyes twitched. Her grip on the sword unconsciously tightened, confused by the man's words while gleaning some valuable truths.

'He has a son my age? Favor? It seems I was right, my parents want to crush my spirit for whatever reason. Marry me off probably.'

Not hearing a response, all the man could do was sigh. "I'm Stark, and you are?"

"Carrera," she replied bluntly.

"So you're not mute?"

"Of course I'm not mute?!"

The man named Stark let out a dry laugh, amused by her change in demeanor. Carrera didn't like the way the man looked at her, it was like an uncle messing with her niece. She had discarded such feelings long ago, and this man would be no different.

"Look, I have no interest in dueling a child. But training, that sounds more interesting," he said with a gleam in his eyes that slightly unnerved her, Stark continued twirling on of his blades.

"You have talent, and fight well for someone your age. If you can clear the first floor of the Tower, I'm sure you'll become a powerful adventurer."

A slight frown colored her face.

'Talent, huh.'

Sure, most of the "mentors" that had dueled her did reveal slightly surprised expressions. She displayed a finesse with the blade unbefitting of her age, but their shock didn't last long. It wasn't rare for legacies of heirs of major clans to possess such combat prowess.

None of them ever acknowledged talent beyond that of what was expected of a heir. This made Carrera somewhat curious, what did the man see in her that no one did not? Carrera had even started believing she had reached the limit of her capabilities; unlike her sister her growth had stagnated.

He stopped, "But, your parents would never let that happen. It would go against their principles to let someone they deemed useless have another try at attaining power. So I propose this, as an act of rebellion against Trenus."

The man's expression sharpened, carrying a unprecedented undertone of seriousness. "From what I can see, you're a diamond in the rough. I will train someone willing, and persistent enough to continue down a tiring path. The moment they slip, even once, it's over."

Carrera's eyes twitched, finding his words preposterous. One mistake would be enough to let him give up on his own pupil?

"Seems like I still act like a hero, old habits die hard." With an awkward laugh he turned to Carrera, "What do you think? I've been the one doing all the talking."

She inwardly scoffed, finding his proposal anything but heroic like. From his words, it was more like a selfish request to get back at an old friend while finding something to entertain his boredom. But she didn't really have much of a choice.

Carrera had high aspirations at the moment; crush her older sister and set flames to her family's domain. But they were simply unattainable at her current strength; she even lacked the power to escape the confines of her family's dungeon. But, if she trained under this enigmatic man, she could have a chance at freedom.

Beyond that freedom lay Halcyon, her only hope for attaining greater power.

A dim hope had arrived before her, a once in a life time opportunity.

"Can I learn that sword technique?"

"Hmm, its a special art of mine that I crafted by myself. It will be significantly harder to learn that your average sword technique, and even has a sharper learning curve then most Grade A or S arts."

With a shine in his eyes, "If you're capable of learning it, then you'll have piqued my interest. What do you say?"

'A chance to learn a sword art surpassing the most cherished of combat styles? It was a no brainer.'

"It looks like I'll be under your care, Mr. Stark."