Chapter 50

Chapter 50
## Chapter 50: Calibrating Power

—

For the next week or so, our existence was defined by a brutal simplicity: consume calories and find sleep.

“Hah… hah…”

The middle of the day was reserved for a different ritual—exhausting every drop of my essence in training as if the concept of a future didn’t exist, only to be systematically dismantled by Lee Se-eun. I drove the butt of my spear into the dirt and wiped away the spit clinging to my chin.

Victory in any engagement boils down to three fundamental pillars.

First, you must understand the limits of your own form. Second, you must accurately measure the capabilities of your adversary.

Lastly, you compare those two data points to map out a trajectory toward a win.

“Easier said than done…”

I threw myself to the side, narrowly avoiding a descending greatsword that turned the ground into a crater with a dull explosion. I evaded the steel, but the resulting shockwave slammed into me like a physical wall.

My internal organs shifted uncomfortably, and I felt a sour heat rising in my throat. I glanced over; Han Sang-ah looked just as physically ill as I felt.

“We aren’t stopping, right?”

“Not a chance.”

The sun was barely up. Calling it quits now would leave the rest of the day feeling hollow.

We were operating on a dual mandate: enhance our personal thresholds and achieve perfect synchronization with Han Sang-ah. Since our objectives were perfectly mirrored, we spent nearly every waking moment in each other’s combat orbit.

We would be a liability in a genuine life-or-death struggle until we had fully integrated our styles.

“Let’s go again.”

Han Sang-ah gave a short nod and began circulating mana through her blade. A flickering, weak static began to crawl across the metal.

“Keep the output lower.”

Han Sang-ah’s entire martial philosophy centered on the lethal efficiency of the kill—reminiscent of the way she handled carcasses at the slaughterhouse, ending a life with a single, precise cut to the jugular. It was about the destination, not the journey.

To master that path, she had to eliminate all superfluous motion. The outcome needed to be devastating, but the preparation had to be invisible.

She clenched her jaw at my critique.

“I know it’s grueling. But the logic of our sync is basic.”

I am the architect of the opening; she is the hand that delivers the finishing stroke. If the target survives her, I move in to finalize the job. That was the blueprint for our partnership.

“Is the strategy meeting over?”

Lee Se-eun exhaled a cloud of smoke from her cigar, watching a gray ring drift away before casually twirling her massive greatsword with a flick of her wrist.

“Yes. You can go back to breaking us now.”

Lee Se-eun let out a dry laugh, cleared the embers from her pipe, and lunged.

I focused on her mechanics, calculating the velocity of her swing and the density of the mana she was channeling to predict the weight of the blow.

I processed the information and chose the most efficient way to survive the impact.

“Your instincts are sharp… but there’s still a disconnect.”

Lee Se-eun’s expression suggested she was solving a puzzle. After seven days of this rhythm, she was beginning to notice the anomalies in my technique.

You don’t need to be the strongest person on the field to be the most effective.

I analyzed the mana flow and the speed of her downward hack in a heartbeat.

I could redirect the edge, but I couldn’t negate the kinetic energy. I’d have to absorb it. As our weapons collided, my world blurred from the vibration, but I managed to trap the greatsword’s blade beneath my boot.

“Han! Now!”

With perfect timing, Han Sang-ah sprang forward. She unleashed a torrent of concentrated cutting force toward Lee Se-eun—a shocking contrast to the weak sparks she had been producing just moments before.

“Hah.”

Lee Se-eun released her grip on the greatsword and threw herself into the storm of steel. She navigated the gaps in the slashes with the grace of a predator, closing the distance to Han Sang-ah.

“Where are you looking? I’m still here.”

Before she could reach her target, I shook off the vertigo and placed myself directly in her path. Han Sang-ah used the distraction to retreat instantly.

“You’re a real nuisance.”

Being disarmed didn’t make Lee Se-eun less dangerous. Each of her unarmed strikes carried enough momentum to flatten several heavy vehicles.

The cycle continued. I forced a lapse in her guard; Han Sang-ah attempted to seize it.

“Try this on for size!”

Suddenly, Han Sang-ah bypassed the usual formation, leaping between Lee Se-eun and me to deliver a strike. Lightning tore across the earth like a wild animal.

“What of it?”

Lee Se-eun dispersed the electrical charge with a look of pure boredom. Unless she was genuinely surprised, Han Sang-ah lacked the power to breach her defenses.

She looked at Han Sang-ah with something bordering on pity.

“I’m a fan of the initiative.”

I’m always open to improvising. The second Lee Se-eun moved to counter, I accelerated, trailing arcs of blue light as I triggered Cannon.

Usually, I set the stage for Han Sang-ah. This time, we flipped the script—she created a micro-window with her aggressive charge, and I moved to exploit it.

“…”

For the briefest of moments, Lee Se-eun’s rhythm faltered, her movements becoming heavy and uncoordinated.

“Nice effort.”

The window closed in seconds. She recovered her equilibrium with terrifying speed. Just then, an electronic chime rang out.

“Communication check. We’re taking five—I’ll be back.”

The greatsword vanished into thin air. Han Sang-ah and I collapsed our stances, our lungs burning as we fought for air.

“That transition at the end was solid.”

“Being a shadow in the background isn’t enough. Besides, it’s all for nothing if you can’t capitalize on the gap I make.”

I threw a towel to Han Sang-ah and took a long pull from my water bottle.

“I committed because I knew I could reach her.”

My joints popped like gunfire as I stood still. A pained noise escaped me. I hadn’t taken a direct hit, but the environmental damage from the shockwaves was taking a toll.

Han Sang-ah looked at me thoughtfully.

“Do you honestly believe this is enough to take down a Rank-1 Erosion Core?”

“I have no idea.”

I’d never faced a Rank-1 before. I was simply following the most efficient trajectory for growth that I could devise.

“Get your weapon up.”

I leveled my spear at her.

“The guessing game?”

I nodded, tightened my grip, and moved in.

“30.6?”

“Incorrect.”

My spear slammed into her guard. Her legs shook, and she let out a muffled groan.

“15.7.”

“You’re in the ballpark, but still wrong.”

The lesson continued. We were quantifying every strike as a percentage of a theoretical maximum of 100, training her to identify the exact power level of an incoming attack. Han Sang-ah hadn’t hit a bullseye yet.

By the time Lee Se-eun finished her radio duties, Han Sang-ah had been struck fifty times.

“Switch positions.”

She gave a weary nod and, despite the bruises starting to darken her skin, began her offensive against me.

“5.1, 6.3, 3.3… Your output is a mess. If you’ve lost heart, just admit it and get out of here.”

Her strikes needed to be perfectly consistent. The objective was a variation of no more than 0.2 while maintaining a steady 5% of her total power.

“Use the mana inside you to stabilize your frame. If you can’t govern your own body, what can you hope to govern?”

Another string of errors. I drove a punch into her midsection. She folded over, her feet leaving the ground for a second before she was on her knees, retching into the dirt.

“Get up. Unless you’re looking for more.”

She pulled herself up. Lee Se-eun, watching from the sidelines, made a clicking sound with her tongue.

“At it again, I see.”

“Don’t make it sound like I’m a bully.”

I knew this was difficult. Power isn’t just a volume knob for mana. It’s a combination of vector, posture, footing, velocity, and positioning—all of which change every millisecond.

My training required her to be hyper-aware of all those variables while under duress. If she failed, I provided the consequence.

“I said get up! Are you going deaf?”

I caught her in a momentary lapse with a spear strike to the head, sending her sprawling. I followed up with a kick. She tumbled through the dust before rising on shaky legs.

Lee Se-eun looked on with genuine confusion.

“…Have you ever thought about running the junior programs at Zanabi?”

“I’ve given you my answer on that.”

This worked with Han Sang-ah because our interests were aligned.

She endured three hours of my relentless pressure.

“That’s the limit for today.”

She groaned, made a failed attempt to stand, and eventually dragged herself to the dormitory steps.

“My turn?”

“Please.”

Now it was my turn to be the anvil. I pushed Han Sang-ah; Lee Se-eun pushed me. It was a hierarchy of pain.

And though she tried to hide it, Han Sang-ah looked genuinely delighted to watch me get pulverized.

I couldn’t blame her. Watching the person who just spent hours beating you get the same treatment is a peculiar kind of therapy.

“The radio check was fifteen minutes ago. Stay on the schedule.”

“Understood.”

Han Sang-ah answered quickly, drinking her fluids and circulating mana to repair the micro-tears in her muscles.

“Should I dial it back?”

Lee Se-eun called her greatsword back to her hand and offered a mercy I didn’t want.

“No. Use me for stress relief.”

Soft training is just playing pretend.

“Have it your way.”

She attacked. Sparring with Lee Se-eun was mechanically similar to my sessions with Han Sang-ah.

The difference was simple: she was acquiring new data, whereas I was merely refining skills I already possessed.

The result was the same: both of us ended the day too mangled to recognize ourselves.

“Dinner’s ready.”

“…”

I lay flat on my back, watching the stars begin to poke through the darkening sky. I was going to die. I let out a tired, internal laugh.

“You’re getting quicker.”

Lee Se-eun was mastering her own output while she beat me. Han Sang-ah was still struggling, but Lee Se-eun had already managed to get within a 0.4 margin of error after just a few days.

“The supplies I requested should be here in an hour.”

During dinner, Han Sang-ah’s news finally brought a smile to my face.

“Perfect. I was down to my last few.”

The hunters in Korea were hoarding top-tier elixirs like dragons, meaning the quality of what we could get from the UK was technically inferior.

But for my purposes, those mid-grade supplements were exactly what I needed.

From the end of dinner until I passed out, I would consume them to fortify my meridians.

By the time we moved against the Rank-1 Erosion Core, Paradox Flame would be capable of a much higher thermal floor and far more intricate control.

“Three months seems like a reasonable window.”

I smirked at Han Sang-ah’s assessment.

“I wonder if Dangun’s descendants are sitting back with snacks and entertainment?”

The exact date was a mystery, but they would inevitably target the shield generator again. Lee Se-eun’s face darkened as she poked at her rations.

“Britain traded away the mining rights to five offshore fields and thirteen mines—thirty years of resources—for a pittance just to secure this shield trial.”

“The Korean government never had any intention of letting them keep those rights.”

They had banked on Dangun’s descendants hijacking the generator while it was being moved through Siberia.

Since there was no official link between the government and that group, they could just point the finger at terrorists.

Before any significant data could be gathered, Dangun’s descendants would make their move.