What does it mean to endure pain and failure?
The question that had just formed in Faust's mind was quickly answered.
"Next, I'll drop my Path level down to match yours.
Attack with everything you've got. Any equipment, any technique, any method you want. We'll keep going until you can touch the hem of my clothes."
The elven Sword Saint's calm words made Faust's brow furrow slightly.
The prince of Aurum knew he wasn't exactly a combat prodigy. Against a legendary hero of her reputation, he didn't even deserve to be a practice dummy.
But that was with an overwhelming gap in power!
Faust had, after all, received personal instruction from legendary warriors since childhood and had plenty of combat experience under his belt.
With equal strength, surely he could at least touch her clothes, right?
In the prince of Aurum's understanding, the extraordinary power of this world's strongest fighters depended entirely on the level of mystical power. Numbers decided everything.
What about technique? Just extras on top.
No matter how well-trained a body was, how could it compare to the supernatural power granted by mystical forces?
Mistoria's attitude toward humans carried a hint of condescension. Should he chalk this up as a common flaw among elves? Even a respectable Sword Saint wasn't immune.
Fine then. He'd show her what he was made of and make this teacher reassess him.
"Understood. Give me a moment."
Faust turned and walked toward the royal guard knights watching from the edge of the training grounds.
"Viviana, let me borrow your equipment."
The pale gold-haired girl nodded. "The set I'm wearing? Or..."
"Full plate, obviously!"
Viviana's usual light armor wouldn't cut it.
Faust knew the Roselyn family had a suit of armor passed down from the imperial era that was even better than the royal family's.
If he was going to fight a legend, he naturally had to go all out.
After donning the heavy armor covered in intricate runes, Faust returned to the field, adjusting his breathing as the power of his [Lustful Sovereign] Path fully enhanced him.
Then he bent his knees slightly, feeling the power surging through his body, gripped the sword hilt with both hands, and angled the tip toward the ground.
BOOM
The next moment, the universal combat technique [Heroic Charge] erupted. This move was practically every warrior's opening play.
Like an arrow loosed from a bow, Faust shot forward.
His heavy armor and dragon sword created a terrifying sound as they tore through the air. He charged straight at the elven Sword Saint. But rather than dodging, which would've been most effective, the elf stepped forward to meet him.
CLANG
After the sharp ring of blade meeting blade came the aftershock of Faust's charge, exploding behind the elven Sword Saint. Visible shockwaves shattered the floor tiles.
The momentum was intimidating, but the prince of Aurum himself couldn't advance an inch, stopped cold by a blade emitting a faint moonlight glow.
"Not bad."
Feeling the force transmitted through her hands, Mistoria tilted her head slightly and made an approving sound.
But this kind of praise sounded to Faust exactly like an adult humoring a child. Closer to an insult than a real compliment!
"Hmph!"
A low growl emerged from his throat. Faust immediately shifted tactics, treating the elven Sword Saint as an enemy in a life-or-death struggle. His momentum and fighting spirit surged, intensified, exploded!
"Mm..."
The flaxen-haired elf looked up, seeming almost surprised, and appeared thoughtful.
"Is this a technique you learned from your father? Quite an aggressive berserker style."
Without waiting for an answer, she immediately met Faust's storm-like offensive head-on.
Wave after wave of powerful, swift slashes came crashing down.
The heavily armored prince of Aurum seemed to transform into a bloodthirsty, rabid beast, yet remained silent and cold, using only the most vicious attacks to demonstrate his determination to tear his enemy to pieces.
CLANG CLANG CLANG
Loud metallic ringing accompanied scattering sparks. The two exchanged blows at extreme speed, so fast that ordinary eyes could barely follow them.
Without any magical power, just pure bladework alone was creating storm-like devastation.
But under Faust's fierce assault that nearly left crimson afterimages, the elven Sword Saint maintained a one-handed grip throughout, like a towering lighthouse unmoved in a rainstorm.
This left Faust in disbelief. He was certain she was holding back.
He could see all of Mistoria's movements clearly.
They were absolutely at the same power level.
No overwhelming force that was impossible to counter, no lightning-fast speed, not even superior reaction time. Everything was in the same weight class.
Yet Faust had thrown everything he had at her, even using the secret techniques his expensive adoptive father had taught him, but he couldn't make her budge a single step.
No! This feeling... this feeling of being toyed with!
Well... maybe he couldn't quite put it that way. After all, Mistoria really was far stronger than him.
A mysterious and powerful teacher—this was protagonist treatment, a good thing!
Thinking of it this way, Faust felt much better.
"Your focus is slipping. Running out of steam? If so, then let's wrap this up."
Mistoria let out a light breath. The next instant, her form vanished from where she stood.
In her place was a bright silver flash that most people couldn't even track, racing forward. One afterimage after another struck Faust's armor.
The elf was using her sword pommel to hammer the armor. Each strike left the armor undamaged but seemed to create a tsunami inside Faust's internal organs.
The extreme agony nearly twisted the prince of Aurum's handsome face. But Faust bit through his lip and forced himself to endure it.
After getting brutalized for a while, Faust was finally released by the elven Sword Saint and collapsed to the ground with a thud.
Viviana rushed forward and caught the prince of Aurum in her arms, using a handkerchief soaked in medicinal wine to clean his wounds.
The pale gold-haired guard girl said softly, "You fought well, Your Highness. You're not a—"
What does that mean? Are you saying I fought like garbage?!
Faust didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Viviana, are you trying to comfort me or insult me?"
Mistoria sheathed her sword.
"From now on, you'll continue doing this kind of combat training with me until you can treat this pain as nothing. If you can touch me, even better."
"This is my training method... Do you need to rest before we continue? Or should we stop here for today?"
Mistoria glanced at Faust.
He was in so much pain he was breaking out in cold sweat, his face pale, yet even so, he hadn't begged for mercy once, showing remarkable resilience.
She had expected this pampered human prince to perform far worse.
No, if he's the one from the prophecy... then performing at this level is only natural. Otherwise, how could he possibly face that nightmare?
"No need!"
Faust gently pushed Viviana away, spat out contaminated blood mixed with organ fragments onto the ground, and wiped the corner of his mouth.
Mistoria's torment and abuse hadn't made him flinch at all. Instead, it had awakened the prince's fighting spirit.
Honestly, this wasn't nearly as frightening as being under Cinderella's affection for three months. In terms of sheer terror, there was no comparison at all.
"I understand completely, Teacher Mistoria."
Faust spoke through clenched teeth. "Endurance means bearing it. Staying calm. Not flinching when the cold hits. I'm not afraid of pain. Go on. Hit me again. I can take it."