On the private training ground of the duke’s mansion, the ironwood dummy that Gavi had pierced with a single blow still stood there miserably.
The smooth hole in its chest wordlessly spoke of the staggering destructive power demonstrated not long ago.
“Let’s go!”
Helos’s face beamed with unprecedented confidence. She waved her hand, her silver hair cutting a spirited arc through the air.
“We’re going to find Werner right now! I can’t wait to see the expression on his frozen face when he’s shocked!”
Julius watched her, shaking his head helplessly at the look of triumph written all over her face.
However, deep in his eyes, a flame called “confidence” had also been ignited. Gavi’s strength had undoubtedly given them the courage to challenge the Duke’s personal guard.
The three of them crossed the silent courtyard, heading straight for the east side of the duke’s mansion, the area where the guards were usually stationed.
Along the way, Helos’s steps were so light she was practically skipping. She hummed a tuneless little melody as if they were not headed toward a grueling ordeal, but rather a game that was already won.
When they arrived at the east side of the residence, Werner was standing alone in the center of the courtyard.
He was dressed in simple, black training gear without any heavy armor, but his upright posture and the steady aura he radiated were more oppressive than any suit of mail.
Hearing their footsteps, he slowly turned around. His brown eyes, as calm as a stagnant well, fell peacefully upon the three of them.
His gaze did not linger long on Helos or Julius. Instead, he locked onto Gavi, a flicker of scrutiny passing through his eyes that was nearly impossible to detect.
“Mr. Werner,” Julius said, stepping forward with a respectful bow.
“I’ve come to challenge you!”
Helos was far more direct. She poked her head out from behind Julius, her hands on her hips and her head held high as she made her declaration.
Facing the young lady’s rather rude challenge, Werner’s expression did not change at all. He seemed to have expected this moment to come and simply gave a curt nod.
“I’ve watched your training. You’ve been quite diligent.” His voice was low and steady as his gaze shifted back to Gavi. “It seems you’ve found the source of your confidence.”
Helos tilted her chin up proudly.
“However,” Werner’s tone shifted, “real combat is not as simple as destroying a stationary target.”
He looked at each of the three before finally fixing his eyes on Helos. “I will give you one more week. In one week, I will personally inspect your results.”
“One week?” Helos blinked, startled. She had assumed the challenge would begin immediately.
“Correct.” Werner’s eyes were as sharp as blades.
“Go and make every preparation you can. What I hope to see is not a simple display of power, but the resolve and wisdom you can show as a team when facing an enemy far beyond your imagination.”
Having said his piece, he ignored them and turned to walk away. His posture suggested they could either accept his proposal or give up on the challenge entirely.
Helos and Julius exchanged a look, both seeing a newfound gravity in the other’s eyes.
“It seems things aren’t as simple as we thought,” Julius whispered.
“Hmph, so what?” Helos curled her lip, but the fighting spirit in her eyes burned even brighter. “What’s one week? It’s perfect, actually. I still have some new ideas I haven’t had the chance to implement!”
***
Upon returning to the workshop, Helos immediately dived into her research. During this final week before the challenge, every minute and second felt incredibly precious.
She spread out all the materials she had accumulated onto her workbench. Potion bottles of various colors shimmered with a strange luster under the light of the oil lamps.
She wasn’t just planning to replenish the potions she had consumed; she needed to prepare a complete “logistical guarantee” for the upcoming battle.
She prioritized brewing life potions to deal with any potential accidental injuries.
Meanwhile, vigor potions and focus potions would ensure that she and Julius wouldn’t lose due to physical or mental exhaustion during a prolonged fight.
After preparing these standard elixirs, Helos’s gaze fell on several bottles of “kiss of thorns” that radiated a dangerous aura.
‘This alone isn’t enough…’ she muttered to herself, her fingertips tapping lightly on the table.
Werner was not like that drunken abyss cultist. In a direct confrontation, a thrown corrosive potion like the kiss of thorns would be difficult to land. She needed a more effective and discreet means of attack.
Thus, she turned her attention to her new blueprints. On them was a gadget she had been conceptualizing for a long time but had never had the chance to create.
It was a belt specifically designed for combat. It was made of tough leather, with more than a dozen small pockets of varying sizes specifically designed for storing potion bottles.
Each pocket was equipped with a special quick-access buckle; with a simple flick of a single hand, one could retrieve the necessary potion in an instant.
The design was extremely form-fitting. Even during intense running or rolling, it ensured the stability of the bottles, preventing them from falling out due to movement.
“I’ll just call it the ‘alchemist’s potion belt,'” Helos said, looking at her design with satisfaction as a smile played across her lips.
With this, her combat effectiveness would undoubtedly receive a massive boost.
***
Meanwhile, at the other end of the duke’s mansion, inside Eisende’s study, Werner stood quietly before the desk.
He reported everything to the Duke, from Helos’s challenge to the one-week preparation period he had granted them.
Duke Eisende listened in silence, the feather pen in his hand never stopping as he reviewed documents. His face showed neither joy nor anger, as if all of this was merely a trivial matter.
It was only after Werner finished his report that a momentary silence fell over the study.
“Do you think they can pass your test?” Eisende finally spoke, his voice so flat it was impossible to discern any emotion.
Werner pondered for a moment before giving his judgment.
“If it were just Miss Helos and Julius, I’ll be blunt — they’re still far from it.” His answer was direct and honest.
“Their progress is indeed fast. Whether in swordsmanship or magic, they have already surpassed the scope of their peers — they are even stronger than some older children. But their experience and strength still appear naive in the face of a truly powerful opponent.”
The pen in Eisende’s hand paused slightly.
“But,” Werner’s tone changed, a strange light flashing in his eyes, “with that puppet golem named Gavi, it is a different story.”
He recalled the scene he had witnessed at the training ground. Even he couldn’t help but be surprised by Gavi’s combat capabilities.
“That golem’s fighting style is very pure. There are no redundant movements, as if she were born for slaughter. If she truly goes all out, Julius and Miss Helos wouldn’t even last five seconds against her.”
Werner’s voice held a hint of admiration. “With it there, it at least ensures Miss Helos won’t face any fatal danger during the fight.”
“In other words, there is a chance they might pass?” Eisende’s voice remained calm.
“Yes, My Lord.” Werner bowed slightly. “Though the probability is small, it is not an impossible chance.”
Eisende nodded and did not press further. He set the documents aside, slowly stood up, and walked to the window. The winter sunlight streamed through the glass, casting a long shadow behind him.
“Then let them try.” His voice sounded somewhat distant.
“However, Werner, relay a message to them for me. Even if they pass your test in the end, the matter of hunting magical beasts will have to wait until this winter has passed.”
“Yes, My Lord.”
“And if they fail…” Eisende looked out at the courtyard covered in white snow, his voice so soft it was nearly inaudible, “…then we shall speak of it later.”
Someone’s softer than he looks.