Chapter 192: Thousandfold Severance

The sound of steel striking stone echoed through the western wing.

Kaelen Draven stood in the center of a damaged training hall, sword held loosely at his side.

Across from him, a demon dragged its claws over the floor. Unlike the heavily armored creature Valeria had faced, this one possessed a slender frame and unusually long arms. Dark mana covered its body in a thin, shifting layer that gathered more densely around its hands and forearms.

Several broken weapon racks lay scattered behind it.

Kaelen glanced at the destruction. The demon had not simply attacked the hall. It had deliberately destroyed the racks and scattered the weapons, leaving obstacles throughout the fighting space.

An attempt to restrict his movement.

Not a particularly subtle one.

"You don’t look frightened," the demon observed.

Kaelen raised his sword.

"Should I be?"

The creature’s mouth stretched into a grin.

Without answering, it lunged.

Its claws swept toward Kaelen’s throat. He shifted his sword a few inches, redirecting the attack while turning his body out of its path. The demon’s momentum carried it forward, but its other arm immediately followed with a thrust toward his chest.

Kaelen stepped back and parried.

CLANG!

The impact rattled his wrist. He withdrew before the demon could press its advantage, boots sliding over broken stone.

The creature pursued him with another flurry of strikes. Kaelen blocked the first, evaded the second, and turned aside from the third. His movements remained economical, but each exchange forced him closer to the damaged weapon racks.

The demon noticed.

It drove forward with a heavy blow. Kaelen redirected it, but the force sent him sideways. His shoulder struck a wooden frame, splintering it.

The demon laughed.

"Your sword won’t save you."

Kaelen straightened and adjusted his grip.

"You’re making a common mistake."

The creature tilted its head.

"What’s that?"

"Assuming my sword is the only thing I’m using."

Kaelen stepped forward.

His blade moved in a short, controlled arc. The demon twisted aside. The strike missed its torso, cutting only through the air. It immediately counterattacked.

Kaelen parried and shifted to the side. His sword moved again, tracing a second angle before he withdrew.

The demon followed, unaware that each movement had served a purpose beyond the immediate exchange.

A faint shimmer lingered briefly in the air along the paths of Kaelen’s blade.

Then it disappeared.

The creature attacked again.

This time Kaelen gave ground toward the center of the hall, leading it away from the broken racks. He parried a downward strike, redirected a claw toward the floor, and cut across the demon’s forearm.

The wound was shallow.

The demon barely reacted.

It drove its elbow toward his head. Kaelen ducked, but the follow-up strike caught his shoulder and forced him backward. Pain spread down his arm. At the same moment, thin threads of dark mana brushed across his coat and sleeve—almost invisible, but present.

He retreated several steps, breathing steadily.

The demon’s dark mana reinforced its limbs, but the reinforcement was not fixed. Every time he threatened a joint or an opening, the energy shifted to protect it. More importantly, residual threads of mana lingered in the air after each claw strike. They were faint, yet they restricted movement the moment they made contact—slowing a step, dulling a turn by a fraction.

Ordinary cuts failed to penetrate deeply. Direct clashes favored its longer reach.

He could continue trading blows.

Eventually, one of them would make a mistake.

Kaelen had no intention of allowing that mistake to be his.

He lowered his sword slightly.

The demon rushed forward.

Kaelen’s blade flashed once.

Then again.

A third movement followed, each cut placed at a different angle. The demon evaded the first two and blocked the third with its reinforced forearm.

It grinned.

"Is that all?"

Kaelen’s expression remained unchanged.

"No."

He shifted his stance.

"Thousandfold Severance."

The technique did not create a thousand swords, nor did it unleash an indiscriminate storm of slashes.

Its principle was simpler.

Every deliberate movement established a line of compressed Battle Energy along the path of his blade. Those lines remained suspended for a brief period, nearly invisible to an opponent who did not know what to look for.

Once established, they could be activated in sequence.

The technique demanded precise movements, careful timing, and considerable control. A misplaced cut weakened the entire arrangement. An opponent who recognized the pattern could also escape before the final activation.

Kaelen had spent years refining it.

The demon had no idea what it was facing.

It charged again, determined to overwhelm him before he could complete another sequence.

Kaelen met its first strike with a sharp parry. He turned beneath the second and stepped around the third, placing another cutting line across the space beside them. Thin residual threads tried to catch his sleeve. He cut through them without slowing.

The demon’s claws grazed his coat.

He answered with a quick slash toward its ribs, forcing it to twist away.

Another line formed.

The creature snarled and struck the ground, sending a shock through the hall. Loose stones jumped beneath Kaelen’s boots. He lost his footing for a fraction of a second.

The demon seized the opportunity and lunged for his chest.

Kaelen twisted aside. The claws tore through his coat, leaving a shallow wound along his ribs. Residual threads tried to bind the injury. He ignored the sting and landed against the edge of a broken platform.

The demon advanced, certain that it had finally cornered him.

"You’re finished."

Kaelen glanced at the space between them.

The lines were in place.

He had no need to establish more.

The demon rushed forward with both arms extended, intending to tear him apart before he could recover.

Kaelen raised his sword.

"Too predictable."

He brought the blade down.

The first cutting line activated.

A sharp streak of Battle Energy crossed the demon’s forearm, opening a wound through its reinforcement. The creature recoiled in surprise.

Before it could understand what had happened, a second line flashed across its thigh. Its leg buckled, disrupting the charge.

The demon tried to retreat.

Kaelen stepped forward.

The remaining lines activated in rapid succession, crossing the space the creature needed to escape. One cut struck its shoulder. Another opened its side. A third severed the tendons behind its knee.

The demon collapsed onto one leg.

Its dark mana surged wildly as it attempted to reinforce its entire body at once. The liquid-like protection spread unevenly, and the residual threads scattered uselessly through the air, leaving its neck exposed for an instant.

Kaelen moved into range.

His final strike was neither wide nor dramatic.

It was a single, precise cut.

The demon’s head fell.

Its body remained upright for a heartbeat before collapsing onto the stone.

Kaelen lowered his sword and exhaled slowly.

The technique’s residual lines faded from the air. Maintaining them had consumed a significant amount of Battle Energy, and his injured shoulder had begun to stiffen. The shallow wound along his ribs pulsed with each breath.

He cleaned his blade and turned toward the exit.

The battle was far from over.

---

Andras tightened his arm around Seraphina as he carried her through the academy corridor.

She had insisted she could walk.

He had allowed her to try.

She had managed three steps before her legs gave way again.

Neither of them had considered the experiment worth repeating.

"You’re awfully quiet," Seraphina murmured.

"You’re injured."

"That doesn’t explain why you’re quiet."

"I’m carrying you. It requires less talking."

She stared at him.

Even exhausted, she looked as though she wanted to argue.

Instead, she rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes for a moment.

Andras continued forward, keeping his mana concealed as much as possible. His own injuries were far from minor. Every few steps sent pain through his ribs, and the wounds across his back had not fully stopped bleeding.

He ignored them.

Seraphina’s condition mattered more.

The nearest shelter was located in a reinforced building away from the main training grounds. He had heard instructors directing students there earlier, and the route appeared to be relatively clear.

A distant explosion shook the corridor.

Seraphina opened her eyes.

"Another one?"

"Probably."

"And you’re still planning to take me there?"

"Unless you’d prefer to find out how many demons are left."

She gave him a tired glare.

They reached the shelter entrance a short while later. Two instructors stood guard outside, checking the students who arrived and directing the injured toward the inner rooms.

Andras gave a brief explanation of Seraphina’s condition. The instructors immediately stepped aside and directed him inside.

The room beyond had been converted into a temporary treatment area. Injured students occupied the benches along the walls, while several instructors distributed potions and helped those who could still move.

Then a familiar voice reached him.

"Andras?"

He turned.

Aurelia stood near one of the inner walls, her expression changing the moment she saw Seraphina in his arms.

She hurried toward them.

"What happened to her?"