Shion Randers was the kind of man who made an impression, whether he wanted to or not. He had that sharp, rugged look of someone who spent more time training than grooming—his brown hair tousled, falling just enough over his forehead to give him that “I’m too busy to care about my appearance” vibe. It gave him an almost wild, barely-tamed look. His grey eyes, cold and calculating, betrayed an unnerving depth of experience that most people would be wise to steer clear of. Despite looking no older than his late twenties, there was something about the weight behind his gaze that suggested he'd seen more than his fair share of bloodshed.
“Is the young miss of this family spoiled?” Shion leaned casually on his sword, taking a drag from his cigarette, his smile more of a sneer than anything resembling friendliness.
His assistant, ever so polite and diplomatic, smiled right back. “Sir, I don’t think she’s spoiled. Arrogant, though? Possibly.”
Shion exhaled a plume of smoke, glancing over at his assistant. “Arrogance is fine, as long as it's backed up with capability.”
The assistant gave him a sidelong glance, rubbing the back of his neck with an exasperated sigh. “What do you expect? She’s the one who survived the Beast Wave in the capital—at such a young age too. Didn’t they make us sign that confidentiality agreement?”
Shion nodded thoughtfully, tapping the ash off his cigarette. “Yeah, they paid me handsomely for keeping my mouth shut. Must be nice when everything is handed to you on a silver platter.”
A dark chuckle passed his lips, his scarred face cracking into something between amusement and cynicism.
Far off in the distance, Raven, who had sharp senses due to her recent awakening, could hear every word with perfect clarity, despite being several yards away.
Meanwhile, Butler Hans, who was well-acquainted with Shion’s particular brand of humor, also overheard and kept his thoughts to himself.
Though initially irritated, Raven had come to terms with her father. After all, once she’d gotten past the resentment, she realized he wasn’t as bad as other fathers might be. At least he had money, power, and influence—things that made life easier.
As for Scylla, the cook’s assistant, Raven couldn’t help but think of her friend’s father, who came home drunk every night and stole whatever little money Scylla managed to save. If Raven had a father like that, she probably would have ended up in prison by now. But her father was incapable of affection, and Raven had learned to accept whatever scraps of care he gave her. In return, she at least had the luxury of top-tier swordsmanship training and a life free from the worry of going hungry. So, in the end, Raven considered herself fortunate.
“Good morning, Instructor,” Raven said, her tone flat and businesslike as she made her way into the training yard, steering clear of the thick cloud of cigarette smoke that still clung to the air. “I am Raven Serth.”
Shion studied her for a moment, an eyebrow quirked. “Morning. I’m Shion Randers. I’ll be training you to protect yourself.” He paused, casting a glance at her sword. “And hopefully, I’ll be doing it without too many broken bones.”
“Instructor Shion,” Butler Hans said with a respectful smile, “please take care of the young miss. She’ll be in your hands.”
Shion shot a smirk in Hans’ direction. “She won’t die—at least not on my watch.”
Hans gave a small bow and left the yard, and Shion turned back to Raven, eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and calculation. “Do you have any idea how much your father’s paying for me to teach you?”
Raven blinked, caught off guard by the sudden question. She tilted her head, puzzled. “Not exactly.”
Shion's lips curled into a smirk. “It’s not just money. It’s an opportunity. Don’t squander it.”
Raven looked at him blankly for a moment before she spoke again. “Your annual salary is... about the same as one month of our food.”
Shion stared at her, momentarily speechless. “How much can two people eat?”
“There are twenty-two helpers in the house.”
He blinked. “... This is a part-time job, you know. A part-time job where I get to enjoy the misery of kids. For their own good, of course.” He gave her a mock-serious look, then added, “But don’t get me wrong, I make a lot more than that.”
Raven narrowed her eyes, deadpan. “Then treat me to a lot of candies in the future, Teacher. I’ll be sure to thank you properly.”
Shion snorted and blew out a long stream of smoke, then fixed her with a glare. “Candies over my dead body.”
Raven simply raised an eyebrow and didn’t say another word as the training began.
The training yard was eerily quiet, the only sound the faint rustling of leaves in the light breeze. Raven stood in the center, clutching a wooden sword that felt more like a large stick than a weapon. Across from her stood Shion Randers, arms crossed, a gaze sharp enough to slice through stone.
His face was unreadable, but the faint flicker of amusement in his eyes suggested he was about to enjoy himself.
“Well,” he said, his voice blunt. “You don’t have any trouble holding a sword. You are eligible to learn swordsmanship. I was worried I would have to restructure your skeletal structure slightly or completely give up.”
“That’s fortunate.” she replied evenly.
Shion raised an eyebrow. “You'd be surprised how many people can’t naturally do that right. Restructuring is unbearably painful but most of the swordsmen go through it.” His eyes scanned her, narrowing slightly. “But don’t get too cocky. Let’s see how you handle the rest.”
Raven bit back a sigh. She knew what was coming. This was just the beginning of the misery.
“Before we swing around sticks, though," Shion said, "we warm up. You’ve got to loosen up those muscles if you don’t want to injure yourself on day one."
Raven nodded groaning inwardly, standing still after keeping the sword away as she waited for his next instruction. She knew that physical conditioning was part of the process but that didn’t make it any less annoying.
“Start with some stretches,” Shion said, gesturing toward the edge of the yard where the ground was clear. “Touch your toes. Don’t cheat.”
Raven bent down, keeping her back straight, and touched her toes without any struggle. Shion watched her closely, correcting her movements from time to time, making them controlled and purposeful.
“Not bad,” Shion commented. “Perhaps you used to exercise regularly, but if you didn’t, which I am sure you didn’t– with how unfamiliar you are with basic stretches, your awakening really improved your body a lot. Lucky for you, we can skip the usual regime of slowly getting used to it and get straight to the fun part.” He smirked, clearly enjoying the idea of putting her through his torture.
Raven didn’t respond, but she visibly paled at the word ‘fun’. She hardened her face and prepared herself for hell.
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Shion gestured for her to move on to a set of lunges. “Don’t look at me like I’m your enemy. These are necessary. If you can’t even balance your body properly, holding a sword is going to be a joke.”
Raven’s small, steady steps matched Shion’s demands without hesitation. She lunged, one leg forward, bending at the knee, the other leg extended behind her.
“Not bad,” Shion muttered again. He didn’t need to say it, but he approved of her. He wasn’t one for compliments, but as he tested the little girl’s physique, he couldn’t help but be slightly impressed.
“Alright, now for some arm swings,” Shion instructed. “Start with circles, get the blood flowing to your shoulders. Big ones. You want your arms to be loose, not stiff.”
Raven obeyed, extending her arms and making large, deliberate circles with them. There was a natural fluidity to her movements, and the way she controlled the swing of her arms seemed to come easily.
Shion watched for a moment, then gave a snort. “That’s right. Get those shoulders loose. I’ll be expecting you to swing harder than that, though. Ok, it’s fine. Now run five laps around the ground. Faster!”
After a few more stretches and light warm-ups, Shion clapped his hands together, signaling the end of the physical prep. “Alright, that’s enough. Time to pick up the sword.”
Raven straightened and wiped the sweat from her forehead thinking, It wasn’t as tough as I had thought. She picked up the sword and walked in front of a dummy.
Shion gave a low chuckle, though it wasn’t out of kindness. It was more like the laugh of a man who was about to enjoy watching someone struggle. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Raven glanced at him briefly, “I know nothing about swords, but I’ll try.”
He gave her a look that almost bordered on sympathy. "Try, huh? That’s cute. Don’t hurt yourself."
He demonstrated a basic strike—an overhead swing, sharp and decisive. "Start with this. You don’t need to be fancy. Just focus on form, on the motion. Don’t try to cut the air in half. Got it?”
Raven adjusted her grip, watching his form carefully, and mimicked the swing with her wooden sword. It was clumsy, not nearly as clean as Shion’s, but she didn’t expect perfection.
Shion observed, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "Hmm. Not awful. Again."
Raven sighed inwardly. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t expected this. She adjusted, trying to smooth out the motion, making it a little more fluid.
“That’s better," Shion said, his voice still gruff but tinged with approval. “But stop thinking so much. You’re trying to control it too much. Just feel it. Focus on the flow, not the outcome.”
She nodded silently, swinging again. The motions grew smoother with every repetition, though her arms felt like they were made of lead.
“You’ve got a decent foundation,” he commented gruffly, “As I’ve said before, your awakening has improved your physique. But that doesn’t mean you can slack off.”
Raven nodded once. “I understand,” she said as she swung again.
Shion tilted his head, giving her a long look. “You’ve got potential. ” he mused. “But don’t think that means it will be easy for you. In fact, I’m going to make sure you regret every second of it. You’ll be sore, you’ll be tired, and you’ll wonder why you’re still standing by the end of this.”
Raven didn’t bother herself to reply. She simply continued to practice the swing. She had already known that it was going to be hell. And she had already decided she would not give up– no matter what.
After an hour of non-stop swings, Shion called a halt.
“Alright, that’s it for today. You’ve got the basics down, but don’t get too excited. Tomorrow, we hit the real thing. No slacking off.” He crossed his arms, eyeing Raven with a mix of approval and barely concealed amusement.
Raven, sweat trickling down her brow, stood tall despite the burn in her muscles. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, trying not to show how exhausted she was. "I'll do my best, thank you, Teacher," she said, her tone steady despite the ache in her body.
Shion raised an eyebrow, a rare smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "It'll be a lot more interesting if you do thank me every day."
Raven didn’t respond, instead shifting her grip on the sword.
Shion chuckled darkly and flicked his wrist dismissively. "Alright, We’ll do this every day and much more, so you’ll get used to it."
"Yes, Teacher," she replied, voice flat but with a small hint of sarcasm hidden beneath the exhaustion.
***
In the following days, Raven fell into a strict routine. Her mornings started early, at six sharp, followed by a quick breakfast before heading to her classes. Swordsmanship was the first class of the day, and it quickly became the most grueling.
On the second day of training, Raven immediately regretted her earlier assessment that the workout hadn’t been that tough. It turned out, Shion had merely been testing her the previous day. The real physical training began on day two. She was instructed to repeat the ten sets from the previous day and then swing her sword a hundred times to warm up. Raven quickly learned that life for those who were truly dedicated was not easy—especially when Shion took it as his personal mission to double or even triple the training every time she made a mistake.
On the second day of her swordsmanship class, Raven took back her words that the workout wasn’t as tough as she had thought. Turns out, Shion was just testing her on the first day. The real physical training started on the second day. She was told to repeat ten sets of what she did yesterday and then swing her sword a hundred times to warm up. Raven felt that life was truly tough for dedicated people. Especially after Shion enjoyed doubling or tripling the training as a punishment whenever she made a mistake.
But Raven understood the purpose behind his harshness. A strong foundation was crucial. Becoming a high-level or expert swordsman wasn’t just about natural talent. You had to go about it the right way. Even if one could reach a high level, without a solid foundation, their power would be weak. A sword that was honed with precision would always outlast one that was hastily made.
In her previous life, Raven had suffered because of her weak foundation. Even though she had reached a high level, an experienced intermediate-level swordsman could still defeat her. The truth was, raw talent could only take you so far. Without a solid foundation, there was no real strength.
In this life, Raven was determined to be different. This time, she would master the sword completely. There would be no doubt—she would be the absolute best.
So even though the training was tough, Raven thanked Shion at the end of every class while gritting her teeth. This seemed to amuse Shion and he took it as a challenge, making her suffer even more. But Raven was just as stubborn and prideful, she refused to give up. Even if she had to thank him while lying on the ground, without any energy to even grit her teeth, she still thanked him like a good student.
Beyond the grueling physical training, Raven also devoted time to practicing her elemental abilities. In the early stages of elemental training, discovering one’s powers through intuition was often more effective than rigid instruction. Raven wasn’t assigned a mentor for this part of her development, but the Serth’s library was an invaluable resource. The collection was vast, filled with ancient texts and rare books, some of which contained the diaries of famous wind elementalists. These writings gave Raven a deeper understanding of the element and allowed her to see it from others’ perspectives.
Her father, too, was the strongest wind elementalist alive. His very presence reinforced the element itself. Raven’s affinity with the wind was undeniable—it flowed through her veins as naturally as breathing. She was born with an extraordinarily pure and strong wind element. Even while simply walking or breathing, new gusts would form around her, almost as if the wind itself was drawn to her presence.
And her father’s influence suppressed her ability to fully manifest her powers. Whenever he was near, his command over the wind created a kind of pressure that muted her control over the element. To use her abilities under such pressure was an immense challenge. It was like running a mile with 100 kilograms strapped to her back—difficult, but ultimately strengthening. Every time she pushed through this barrier, her control over the wind grew stronger, and her powers became purer.
This, however, wasn’t always a good thing. Once Raven stepped out from under her father’s influence and felt the true freedom of her elemental abilities, it would be much harder to control the winds, which would surge with overwhelming force.
The moment Raven stepped into the garden, the stillness of the air shifted. The winds, as if responding to her presence, began to stir and take shape. Her white clothes fluttered as she felt the wind, no longer suppressed but free to move as it wished. It was exhilarating. The wind swirled around her, playful and curious, as if greeting its master.
“This is amazing,” Raven whispered, a smile forming on her lips. “It feels… it feels like I’m free.”
Butler Hans, standing quietly by, smiled gently. “Young Miss can train here freely. I wish you the best.”
Raven’s face brightened as she extended her arms to beckon the wind closer. She could feel that the connection between herself and the element was much stronger than before. The wind that had once been suppressed now flowed willingly towards her, free and unrestrained.
She spent most of her free time in the floating garden, pushing herself to hone her elemental power. She would call upon the wind and practice moving it with precision, her concentration was unwavering until she was mentally and physically exhausted.
Raven would retreat to her quarters to meditate and restore her mental energy. She still had two evening classes to attend.