Dante nodded.
"I see. Annoying. But manageable."
Jurian stared.
"...Manageable? For most people, just hearing that would make them panic."
Dante simply shrugged. Internally, he wasn't particularly worried. Abyss Veil. Spatial Body. The System. Between those three, even if Qwarion attempted to track him, the results would likely be heavily distorted.
It wasn't perfect.
But it was enough.
He gestured again.
"Continue."
Jurian frowned slightly.
"...You really don't seem bothered."
"I'm bothered. I just don't panic."
"..."
'He really can be a different person sometimes. Looking at him now, its hard to believe his the guy who brazenly asks people if they enjoy giving oral sex on first meeting'
"The next thing — he possesses an extremely powerful anti-appraisal ability. And fighting him feels—" Jurian struggled to find the correct word. "—wrong."
Dante tilted his head.
"Wrong?"
Jurian nodded.
"He isn't particularly overwhelming physically. He isn't unbelievably fast. He isn't absurdly strong. But whenever you fight him, everything feels off. You swing, and somehow miss. You think he's within reach, but he isn't. You think he's moving left, but he suddenly appears somewhere else. It feels as though your own senses are betraying you."
Dante's eyes narrowed, his fingers lightly tapping the armrest.
"So — people instinctively misjudge. Distance, timing, angles, speed and positioning."
Jurian stared.
"...Exactly." He slowly nodded. "That's the closest description I've ever heard."
Dante continued thinking aloud.
"So experienced fighters become even more vulnerable. The more they rely on instinct, the worse the distortion affects them."
Jurian felt another strange sensation.
It wasn't intimidation.
Nor fear.
It was inferiority.
He had spent months fighting Quarion. Trying to understand him. Trying to explain him. Dante had reduced the explanation to four sentences.
Inside Dante's mind, the System spoke.
[Master, this resembles your eldest brother's fighting style.]
Dante silently agreed. 'Similar. But nowhere near Kaien.'
Kaien's skill had never merely confused perception — it completely rewrote it. Direction. Distance. Orientation. Everything.
Compared to that, Quarion's ability felt like a greatly weakened version. Still dangerous. Just not impossible.
[Without Martial Apex evolving, overcoming it completely may be difficult.]
'I know.'
[Master...]
'Dante smiled inwardly. You want yourself evolved first.'
The System became strangely quiet.
Dante almost laughed.
Ever since he realized the System possessed something resembling independent thought, he had begun recognizing little habits. Whenever evolution was mentioned, the System always quietly tried steering him toward upgrading it first — not out of selfishness, rather because it believed it wasn't useful enough.
Its original name had been Second Mind. It truly viewed itself as an extension of him, however with opponents being Mythical tier it felt unable to contribute properly, remaining only Legendary Tier.
The feeling reminded Dante of someone else.
Vexion.
Both possessed an almost identical desire — to become useful.
Jurian interrupted his thoughts.
"There's more. If he wounds you, he can make you forget the wound."
Dante looked up.
"...Explain."
"You continue fighting. But suddenly your movements become sluggish. Pain builds. Blood loss accumulates. But you don't remember when you were injured. You know something feels wrong. You just can't identify what."
Dante slowly nodded. 'Interesting, very interesting.'
"And finally—" Jurian continued. "—he can erase individual pieces of information. For example, you may suddenly forget he's right-handed. Or that he uses a sword. Or that he carries a spear. You don't lose all your memories. Only specific pieces."
Dante rubbed his chin.
"So — I look directly at him. But my brain simply refuses to acknowledge the sword in his hand."
Jurian let out a defeated sigh.
"...Did you even need my explanation?"
Dante laughed.
"I needed the pieces. I simply connected them. They're two different things."
Jurian could only shake his head.
"...Ridiculous."
Dante leaned forward, a rare seriousness appearing in his eyes.
"I'll admit something. He's dangerous. Far more dangerous than I initially assumed."
Jurian nodded.
"Exactly. I've beaten him. Twice. But killing him — I've never managed never ever been close in fact."
Dante smiled.
"You and Aisha really are monsters. I'm looking forward to fighting both of you."
Jurian grinned.
"I'm only strong because of this sword. Without it, I'm rather ordinary."
Dante ignored the statement completely. He stood.
"You're lying to yourself."
Jurian laughed.
"...Maybe."
Dante took a step toward the exit before stopping. His expression changed. The laziness disappeared. The joking disappeared. Only calm seriousness remained.
"Jurian. You genuinely helped me today. If I hadn't known this, I would've remained careless. I already underestimated him once. Knowing these details may very well have prevented a serious injury. ...Or worse."
Jurian watched him silently. He understands the value of information. He doesn't only value strength. He values preparation. The respect in Jurian's heart deepened.
As he escorted Dante toward the door, he smiled.
"I'm glad you aren't dismissing it."
Dante shoved both hands into his pockets.
"Don't misunderstand."
Jurian raised an eyebrow.
"If you can defeat him, I can kill him."
Jurian laughed.
"You don't even know how I beat him. Aren't you underestimating me?"
Dante didn't even turn around.
"We'll train together. You'll find out whether I am."
Without another word, he walked away.
Jurian remained standing at the doorway, watching his back disappear into the distance. A strange feeling lingered in his chest. It wasn't confidence.
Nor unease. It was anticipation. For the first time in quite a while, he genuinely wanted to see someone fight.