God's Tree

Chapter 78 Forging Strength in the Shadows

The air was thick with the weight of impending battle.

Argolaith, Kaelred, and Malakar knew the Veiled Order would not sit idly after their defeat at the temple. They would return, and this time, they wouldn't hold back.

So they had no choice but to be ready.

Back in the Silver Fang Guild Hall, the trio sat in a secluded corner, the flickering torchlight casting long shadows on the walls.

Kaelred exhaled. "Alright, let's be honest—we survived by luck last time. If their leader comes back, we won't be so lucky again."

Malakar nodded. "True. Which is why we need to ensure that next time, we set the battlefield's terms—not them."

Argolaith smirked. "Then let's get to work."

Morning arrived, and the three of them ventured outside the city walls to a secluded, rocky expanse—an ideal place for training away from prying eyes.

Malakar stood before them, his dark robes swaying slightly. "Let's start with your weaknesses."

Kaelred raised an eyebrow. "Way to motivate us."

Malakar smirked. "You'll thank me later."

He pointed at Argolaith.

"Your combat instincts are impressive, but you rely too much on brute force. You need to refine your swordsmanship—precision over raw power."

Then he turned to Kaelred.

"You're sharp, but your movements are still too rigid. In battle, hesitation is death. You need to flow like water, adapt to your opponent's rhythm."

Kaelred scoffed. "And what about you?"

Malakar's glowing eyes narrowed. "Me? I am perfect."

Argolaith burst out laughing. "And humble too."

Kaelred rolled his eyes. "Of course. Let's just start."

Argolaith started with sword drills, focusing on refining his strikes. Malakar set up obstacles and shifting targets, forcing him to react mid-movement rather than relying on pre-planned attacks.

Every time Argolaith hesitated, Malakar punished him with a lightning-fast strike from his wooden training staff.

"You're overthinking. Attack with intent, not hesitation." Malakar chided.

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"Fine." Argolaith exhaled, his grip tightening.

This time, he moved instinctively, his sword carving through the air with deadly precision.

Malakar nodded in approval. "Better. Again."

Meanwhile, Kaelred was forced into a brutal agility course.

Malakar created shadowy dummies, forcing Kaelred to dodge and maneuver around fast-moving, unpredictable strikes.

Kaelred barely avoided a sweeping attack, panting. "I swear, you enjoy torturing us."

Malakar smirked. "This is nothing. You should see what I went through in my early days."

Kaelred ducked under another strike, gritting his teeth as he pushed himself to keep moving.

His footwork improved—his movements becoming smoother, more efficient.

Malakar watched, satisfied. "Good. Now let's add weapons to the equation."

Kaelred groaned. "Of course."

As the day stretched on, Malakar pushed them further.

He had Kaelred practice throwing daggers while dodging attacks.

He forced Argolaith to fight blindfolded, relying only on his instincts and hearing.

He had both of them fight in complete silence, learning how to communicate through movement alone.

Every drill pushed them past their limits.

And yet—they grew stronger.

By nightfall, both Argolaith and Kaelred were exhausted, battered, but more refined.

Argolaith gritted his teeth, analyzing Malakar's attacks.

Then—he moved.

He charged forward, sword in hand, weaving through the flames like a phantom.

Malakar flicked his wrist—a jet of fire surged toward him.

But Argolaith had expected it.

He twisted his body mid-stride, narrowly avoiding the blast. The heat seared past him, but he didn't stop.

His sword lashed out.

Malakar barely blocked in time, raising his arm. The clash of steel against reinforced magic sent sparks flying.

Kaelred, watching from the side, exhaled sharply.

"Alright... I think I see what I need to do."

Kaelred's Counterattack

Kaelred focused.

He couldn't outfight a mage in raw power.

But he could outmaneuver them.

He sprinted to the side, grabbing a handful of small throwing knives from his belt.

Then—he threw them into the flames.

Malakar barely glanced at them—until he realized the knives weren't aimed at him.

They were aimed at the shifting currents of fire.

Kaelred had studied the way the flames moved, calculating where Malakar's magic would surge next.

The knives disrupted the fire's natural flow, forcing the flames to break apart momentarily.

Argolaith took that moment to strike.

His sword carved through the last of the flames, cutting toward Malakar in a devastating arc.

For the first time, Malakar actually looked surprised.

A loud clap of displaced air rang out.

Before Argolaith's sword could connect, Malakar vanished into the shadows.

The flames died instantly, leaving only the smoldering remnants of battle.

Silence followed.

Kaelred panted, wiping sweat from his brow. "Did we... win?"

Malakar's voice came from the shadows behind them. "No. But you learned."

Argolaith turned sharply, spotting Malakar now standing behind them, arms crossed.

"You're not unbeatable," Argolaith smirked.

Malakar chuckled. "No one is. But you two are finally thinking beyond just swinging a blade. That's progress."

Kaelred collapsed onto the ground. "Well, congratulations to us. Now let me die in peace."

Argolaith laughed. "Come on, Kaelred. We survived."

Kaelred groaned. "Barely."

Malakar smirked. "Good. Because tomorrow, we try again."

Kaelred stared at him. "I hate you."

Malakar chuckled. "You'll thank me later."

The training had only begun.

But already—Argolaith and Kaelred were stronger than before.

The Veiled Order wouldn't be ready for what was coming.