Elias took a small step back, the wooden knife whistling inches from his throat.
He snorted—such a misstep would not go unpunished.
He struck the arm holding the training weapon with surgical precision, hitting a nerve. Rebecca’s hand spasmed, and the knife went flying, embedding itself blade-first in the packed dirt floor.
Rebecca tsked in annoyance but made no move to recover her weapon—she’d learned better by now.
The knife had landed too far away, and Elias was too close. Reaching for it would’ve left her wide open to retaliation. Still, the hilt jutted from the ground, within easy reach if such an opportunity arose.
It didn’t.
From there, Elias systematically dismantled her, slipping past her strikes with ease. He retaliated only occasionally, but when he did, each blow found a nerve, a joint, or some other vulnerable spot. He didn’t even need to put much strength behind it—his technique alone made every strike count.
It wasn’t long before a second knife followed the first, and Rebecca was left unarmed.
Elias smirked.
“You win—again,” Rebecca grumbled.
“Don’t be like that, you’re improving,” Elias said with an easy smile. “Keep it up and I’m sure you’ll land a strike—eventually. Give it a year, or ten.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Maybe we should train your dodging skills—and my aim.”
She patted the throwing knives strapped to her vest meaningfully, raising an eyebrow in challenge.
“Maybe next time,” he said with a chuckle, rolling his eyes. “Though, jokes aside, it wouldn’t be a bad idea if you had some kind of training throwing knives.”
Rebecca scoffed, choosing to forgo an answer in favor of retrieving her fallen blades.
The wooden weapons weren't even recognized as real weapons by the System, so using Analyze on them did nothing. Still, they were carved from good, heavy redwood—perfect for sparring.
Elias watched as Rebecca roughly brushed the dirt from the wooden knives and knocked them together lightly. The sharp clap of wood striking wood rang out, shaking loose a thin layer of dust. Satisfied, she tucked them into her small backpack and retrieved her real knives, strapping them into the holsters on her right thigh and lower back.
The weapons were completely black, hilt and blade alike, dulled to avoid catching the light. They were identical—not like a twin pair meant to complement each other, but beautiful in their stark simplicity. Trusty, reliable weapons.
Already knowing what he would find, Elias used Analyze on them.
*******
Combat Knife
Common
Weapon
*******
Combat Knife
Common
Weapon
*******
He appreciated the knives for a moment longer before sighing thoughtfully. Then, before he could find another excuse to keep procrastinating, he finally broached the subject he’d been avoiding since meeting Rebecca earlier.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.
“I spoke to my parents yesterday. You know…” He paused. “About what we talked about. About helping you perfect your foundation.”
Rebecca looked up sharply, her hands frozen over one of the many pockets on her vest. She stared at him, eyes filled with hope and fear.
“And? What did they say?” she asked, her voice forced into casualness.
“They said they’ll help,” he began.
Rebecca’s eyes lit up, and she beamed at him, her smile so bright it nearly melted his heart. For a moment, he seriously considered putting off telling her about his parents’ price. But no—he’d procrastinated enough.
Elias swallowed hard and drew in a steadying breath. “But there’s a condition.”
Rebecca froze, her expression tightening into an impassive mask. It was an anxious thing, caught somewhere between the urge to jump for joy and the instinct to recoil as if struck.
“Well, it’s not a condition, really,” he continued, pressing on. “It’s just… they said they’d help, and that we could sell you the potions you need at cost. My mom even said she wouldn’t charge for the training, since we’d be training together—and because we’re friends. But the quote she gave me… it’s a lot of money.”
Elias pulled the folded piece of paper he’d been fidgeting with from his pocket. He glanced at it one last time before folding it shut again and handing it to Rebecca, his expression somber.
“This is the amount.”
Rebecca reached out for the slip of paper hesitantly with both hands and, after taking a deep breath, snapped it open. She stared blankly at the number written on the page for several seconds, her brows furrowed and her mouth quirked oddly.
It looked like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing—like it was a particularly offensive joke.
As the silence dragged on, Elias started to get anxious, waiting for her response. Then, as she continued to simply stare at the paper in front of her without saying a word, he spoke.
“Look, I know it's a lot of money, but this really is as low as they’re willing to go,” Elias said.
Rebecca finally looked up from the paper, fixing him with a blank stare. She blinked once, twice, then her expression twisted into disbelief and utter confusion. She looked at him like he’d lost his mind.
Then she burst out laughing.
“A lot?! What the hell are you talking about? This isn’t a lot!” she exclaimed. “This is a lot.”
She dug into her backpack, rummaged around for a moment, and pulled out a silver and gold folder with the words Exquisite Potions written in large, elegant white cursive.
Elias took the folder and flipped it open.
It was a catalog of potions designed to perfect one’s foundation, each entry listing a description and its price. There were potions for perfecting any individual attribute, as well as a few that targeted combinations of them.
One potion in particular had been circled in blue ink, its price underlined. It was a potion meant to perfect both the Spirit and Charisma attributes—and it cost 25,000,000 energy.
Elias gaped. “What the hell! Does this potion give you wings too?”
“Ha! You wish! It’s a pretty normal one, too. And even after you take it, it still takes between one to two weeks to work completely,” Rebecca said matter-of-factly.
“So no, I don’t think fifteen million energy is a lot. In fact”—she dragged the word out, a wide, very smug grin crossing her face—“I have that much money saved up already!”
The pride in her smile was unmistakable, radiating from her like a bonfire. It was warm and full of contentment, reminding Elias of when he was ten years old, beaming brightly the first time he’d managed to raise his Vitality, or when he’d landed a lucky strike against his dad in a spar.
Elias stared, completely transfixed. Even his own joy and relief at not having to owe his parents were outshined. All he could see was that smile—it was so bright, it was blinding.
Before he knew it, Rebecca was dragging him by the hand to the nearest bank to transfer him the funds, practically skipping the whole way. Elias half expected her to suggest racing each other there, just to arrive faster.
“Calm down, this isn’t a limited-time offer,” he said with a chuckle. “My parents aren’t going to change their minds about helping if you don’t transfer the money immediately.”
“I know that. I want to get this over with quickly for another reason.” She smirked and winked at him. “I was thinking we could go have lunch someplace nice. I’ll pay—I’m practically rich now!”
Rebecca laughed joyfully, and Elias couldn’t help but chuckle along with her. But as the laughter faded, she suddenly paused and turned, locking eyes with him.
Her gaze was still full of joy—and gratification—and pride, but now there was something deeper there too. When she spoke, her voice was quieter, and more tender.
“But seriously, Elias… thank you. I won’t forget this.”