“Entering the Training Tower costs one silver coin for a full day, or fifty copper coins for half a day or less.”
The keeper of the Training Tower, an old man in tattered clothes, had a sturdy knight’s sword propped beside him. He extended a hand towards Jeanne D’Arc, his meaning clear.
“I won’t need half a day.”
Jeanne D’Arc retrieved her coin purse.
“Fifty copper coins,” the old man repeated, seemingly disinclined to converse further with Jeanne D’Arc.
“Yes, here are fifty copper coins.”
Jeanne D’Arc counted out fifty copper coins and placed them into the old man’s hand.
“Once inside, don’t cause any trouble.”
“I understand. Thank you.”
Bidding farewell to the keeper, Jeanne D’Arc stepped into the Training Tower.
****
The Training Tower’s interior was vast. Dozens of individuals were already practicing on the first floor, with over half of them honing their swordsmanship. Only a select few were engaged in magical studies.
‘Are those the most basic sword techniques?’ Jeanne D’Arc mused.
Upon entering, she was momentarily captivated by the knightly sword arts on display. However, she quickly refocused; she hadn’t come here to observe others’ training. Her purpose was to practice the only spell she currently commanded: the Holy Light Orb.
She exhaled softly.
Jeanne D’Arc found an empty spot, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. She felt the subtle shifts in the surrounding elements, then began to attune her internal magic with the converging energies, extending her right hand forward.
“Holy Light Orb.”
The moment Jeanne D’Arc opened her eyes, a small, golden-yellow magic circle materialized before her palm, roughly twenty centimeters in diameter. Intricate magical script adorned its surface—this was the Holy Light Orb, the simplest light-element offensive spell in a priest’s repertoire.
The Holy Light Orb was a relational spell, formed by condensing light elements and the caster’s own magic into a sphere. The smaller the compressed sphere, the greater its power. In the game, it was one of the few offensive skills available to priests in the early stages.
The in-game Holy Light Orb could also be charged, and in later stages, with improved attributes and equipment, a single Holy Light Orb could rival any advanced offensive spell cast by a mage.
‘This is my first time seeing one up close,’ she thought.
After condensing the magic and elements into a Holy Light Orb, Jeanne D’Arc didn’t immediately cast it. Instead, she brought it closer for a detailed inspection.
‘It’s quite beautiful. What are those line-like things inside?’
Jeanne D’Arc noticed fine, thread-like lines undulating within the edges of the Holy Light Orb. She didn’t know what they were, but they looked rather intriguing.
Boom!
A few seconds later, Jeanne D’Arc hurled the Holy Light Orb. It detonated dozens of meters away, its destructive force comparable to a high-explosive grenade.
“Again! Holy Light Orb!”
“Holy Light Orb!”
On the first floor of the Training Tower, Jeanne D’Arc unleashed Holy Light Orbs well over a hundred times within fifteen minutes. To avoid harming those around her, she chose to launch the orbs into the air, where they would explode harmlessly.
As Jeanne D’Arc relentlessly practiced her spell, the surrounding individuals had long since ceased their own training. They stared in awe at the young woman who, in just a quarter of an hour since entering, had repeatedly cast magic.
Moreover, she showed no outward signs of weakness despite the prodigious expenditure of magic. She was a veritable monster—a mobile magical artillery platform.
“Huh! Isn’t that the companion who was boasting last night?”
“She just used light magic, and it feels both familiar and strange.”
“By all accounts, her magical reserves should be nearly depleted by now.”
Scheffiel had arrived at the Training Tower earlier than Jeanne D’Arc, but she wasn’t on the first floor. Instead, she was practicing on the ninth floor. It was only by chance that she sensed a magical power on the first floor comparable to her own.
When she came down to investigate, she saw Jeanne D’Arc in the midst of her practice.
‘However, there is only one genius maiden in the Fashilan Kingdom, and that is I, Scheffiel Laust!’
Scheffiel suddenly found Jeanne D’Arc an irritating sight. In her eyes, she alone was the object of everyone’s admiration, and she would tolerate no one stealing that glory.
“Time should be almost up. My brother should be awake by now. I should head home.”
Jeanne D’Arc raised a hand to wipe the sweat from her forehead, then turned, preparing to leave the Training Tower for home. However, just as she was about to step out the main entrance, someone called out from behind her.
“Hey, stop right there! You ignorant commoner from the music restaurant last night!”
Scheffiel leaped directly from the ninth floor of the Training Tower, landing perfectly. Even as she called out to Jeanne D’Arc, she didn’t forget to flaunt her noble status.
“Are you calling me?”
Jeanne D’Arc turned around, facing the aggressive Scheffiel, and replied with a smile.
“Who else would I be calling? Indeed, commoners are commoners—utterly devoid of manners and etiquette. They deserve to be dominated by nobles for their entire lives.”
Scheffiel completely disregarded the hostile glares directed her way, instead interpreting them as gazes of admiration and worship.
“Have you finished speaking, if I may ask?”
Jeanne D’Arc maintained her smile, remembering Yue Wu’s repeated warnings not to cause trouble with others outside.
“No, that’s not what I wanted to say,” Scheffiel declared, a smug, superior expression on her face.
“Then what do you want to say? I’m quite busy. If there’s nothing important, I’m going home.”
Jeanne D’Arc had no desire to waste time with this inexplicable noble. She turned away, resuming her steps without a backward glance.
“Oh really? I wonder how that ‘Holy Sword’ and ‘Holy Sword Art’ you were talking about last night are doing?”
“Does it concern you?”
“Of course it doesn’t concern me. I’m just curious what kind of childish trick that ‘art’ actually is.”
…
“I’m thinking that man last night must have had his brain squeezed by an iron gate, ha ha ha~”
“Shut up.”
“What did you say? I can’t hear you. Do you agree with me that he’s got something wrong with his head?”
“I told you to shut up!”
“Huh?”
“I won’t allow you to speak ill of my brother!”
The smile on Jeanne D’Arc’s face gradually vanished with each of Scheffiel’s words, replaced instead by a frigid expression and a surge of rising magical power.
“Speaking ill? No, no, no, I’m not speaking ill; I’m merely speaking the truth.”
Seeing her words had an effect, Scheffiel continued to fan the flames.
“Shut up, I said!”
Jeanne D’Arc, now furious, desperately wanted to control her emotions and calm herself. Yet, she found herself unable to; instead, the rage she had suppressed deep within her heart erupted into a blazing inferno.
“My name is Scheffiel Laust, the genius maiden of the Fashilan Kingdom! In the future, I shall be a genius whose name echoes across the entire European continent! Remember my name well, for the owner of this name will be your nightmare, accompanying you forever!”
Scheffiel seemed to envision the future she desired, with this commoner before her reduced to a pathetic wretch groveling at her feet.
“You little brat from the Laust family, stop this at once!”
At that moment, the keeper appeared between Scheffiel and Jeanne D’Arc. He knew the full story and understood that this incident was instigated by the Laust family’s willful young mistress.
“Azet.”
Scheffiel merely glanced at the old keeper before calling out a name.
“Young Mistress.”
A man clad entirely in black materialized seemingly from thin air within the Training Tower. He knelt on one knee behind Scheffiel, awaiting her command.
“I don’t like being disturbed.”
Scheffiel pointed at the old keeper. Her order to the man was clear: restrain the old keeper and prevent him from interfering.
“As you command.”
The black-clad man drew a katana-like *tachi* from behind him. The instant the blade was unsheathed, it lunged towards the old keeper with astonishing speed.
“What?!”
Startled by the sudden attack, the old keeper hastily retreated several steps. However, the blade in the black-clad man’s hand seemed to possess a life of its own; the *tachi*’s trajectory abruptly changed, slashing across the old keeper’s body.
The cut left a deep wound, staining his already tattered clothes crimson with blood.
“Pwah!”
Due to the old keeper’s carelessness, he hadn’t anticipated the young lady of the Laust family would deal with him in such a manner. Furthermore, the black-clad man’s attack style was peculiar, leading him to inadvertently take a heavy blow.
“Good, the obstruction is gone.”
Scheffiel’s mood instantly brightened as she watched the black-clad man press his blade against the old keeper’s throat.
“I’ll make you pay for this!”
No longer suppressing the fury in her heart, Jeanne D’Arc instantly launched a Holy Light Orb with an uplifted hand.
“You call *that* magic? Ridiculous!”
Scheffiel raised her right index finger, which crackled with electricity. Right before Jeanne D’Arc’s eyes, she effortlessly pierced through the incoming spell with a single poke.
‘How is that possible?’
Jeanne D’Arc couldn’t believe what she was witnessing. The opponent had simply used a single finger to destroy her magic.
“Nothing is impossible. You will live forever in my shadow!”
“Oh, and by the way, let me show you what *real* magic is, not your pathetic parlor tricks.”
Scheffiel raised her left hand, and a fiery red magic circle abruptly appeared.
“Fire magic: Flame Whip.”
A whip woven from pure flame materialized in Scheffiel’s hand.
Just as Jeanne D’Arc momentarily lost herself in shock, a familiar voice echoed in her ear.
‘Raise your left hand. With your right hand, release a compressed Holy Light Orb.’