Journey to Become the Zenith

Between Power and Temptation

With one swift motion, Victor was able to cut down a tree in a slice.

The clean sound of wood parting echoed through the clearing, sharp and absolute. The upper half of the tree slid off like it had been severed by fate itself rather than steel. For a moment, even the wind seemed to pause, as if the world had acknowledged the precision of that strike.

”That’s how I want you to cut down a tree. Don’t tell me it’s impossible, since I did it with the exact same strength you have.”

Victor’s voice wasn’t loud—but it carried weight.

He handed the axe back.

Eon caught it, his fingers tightening instinctively around the handle. His jaw clenched, teeth grinding slightly as frustration flickered in his eyes. He stepped forward again, planting his feet, trying to mimic Victor’s stance—the angle of the shoulders, the twist of the waist, the balance of weight.

He swung.

CRACK—

The strike landed heavy.

But not clean.

The tree splintered unevenly, resisting him, mocking his lack of control.

Eon frowned deeper, adjusting again.

Damn it... what am I missing?

Another swing.

Another failure.

Victor didn’t even look back.

He had already shifted his attention.

To Brinda.

She stood there alone now, arms crossed loosely beneath her chest, her long purple hair swaying gently in the breeze. The slit of her robe revealed her toned leg with every subtle shift of her weight, her posture relaxed—but her eyes were anything but.

They were locked on him.

Curious.

Playful.

Hungry.

Victor walked toward her slowly, boots pressing softly into the grass.

Brinda’s lips curved.

”Well... looks like it’s just you and me now, Sir Victor.”

Her voice dropped slightly at the end—smooth, teasing.

She took a step forward.

Then another.

Closing the distance.

Without hesitation, she reached out and caught his hand—pulling it lightly, guiding it forward until it pressed against the soft warmth between her breasts.

Her body leaned in.

Close.

Too close.

A sly smile curved her lips.

”Do you want something fun?”

Her breath brushed his neck.

Victor didn’t pull away.

Not immediately.

His golden eyes lowered slightly, observing her—not with lust, but with something far more dangerous.

Control.

Then—

A light smack.

His palm tapped her ass.

Not hard.

But enough.

Brinda flinched.

”...Ouch.”

She pouted instantly, rubbing it, her brows knitting together in exaggerated complaint.

”You’re so mean.”

Victor exhaled lightly, almost amused.

”You’re too obvious.”

Brinda tilted her head, stepping even closer again, her body brushing against his arm deliberately.

”Other girls get your attention...”

Her voice softened, just a hint of vulnerability slipping through.

”...why not me?”

For a moment—

Victor was silent.

His gaze shifted slightly, distant for a second.

Then returned.

Sharp.

Clear.

”They don’t try to distract me.”

Simple.

Direct.

Brinda blinked.

”...I look good though.”

There was no shame in her tone.

Just fact.

Victor let out a quiet breath.

”You do.”

A pause.

Then his voice lowered slightly.

”But that’s not enough.”

That—

Hit differently.

Brinda’s playful expression flickered.

Just a little.

Victor stepped closer—not into her space this time, but into her focus.

”If you want to stand beside me...”

His voice lost its teasing edge.

”...prove yourself.”

The air shifted.

Subtle.

Heavy.

”Your value isn’t your looks.”

His gaze sharpened.

”It’s your strength.”

Brinda’s fingers tightened slightly at her sides.

”...You think I’m weak?”

Victor didn’t sugarcoat it.

”Yes.”

Straight.

Cold.

Honest.

”If you stay weak... I won’t keep you around.”

The words didn’t carry cruelty.

But they carried truth.

”My path isn’t easy.”

His tone dropped slightly.

”And I don’t carry burdens.”

Silence.

The wind moved again.

This time colder.

Brinda stood there.

Still.

Then—

Her lips curled again.

But this time—

It wasn’t playful.

It was determined.

”...Then I’ll get stronger.”

Her eyes sharpened.

”I’ll prove it.”

Victor watched her for a second.

Then—

He reached out.

Placed his hand on her head.

Pat.

Slow.

Gentle.

His fingers brushed through her hair.

”Good.”

Her breath hitched slightly.

”...Then here’s your goal.”

He stepped back.

”If you can land even a single scratch on me in a duel...”

A faint smirk formed.

”...I’ll consider you worth keeping up.”

Brinda’s eyes lit up instantly.

”Really?”

There it was again.

That spark.

Victor nodded once.

”Focus on that.”

Then—

Another light smack.

Her ass.

This time she reacted faster.

”Hey!”

She turned sharply, cheeks slightly flushed, glaring at him.

”You really like my ass or something? That’s twice now.”

Victor coughed lightly, looking away for half a second.

”...You talk too much.”

Brinda stared at him.

Then—

Smiled.

Slow.

Knowing.

Victor ignored it completely.

”For now... meditate.”

His tone shifted back to instruction.

”I’ll show you the technique.”

He explained it briefly—controlled breathing, mental focus, circulation of mana through the body instead of just storing it.

Brinda listened.

Carefully.

For once—

No teasing.

No flirting.

Just focus.

Then she closed her eyes.

Tried it.

Victor watched her for a moment.

Then turned away.

...

Not far from them—

Humer stood alone.

Still.

Silent.

Watching everything.

When Victor began walking toward him—

His chest tightened.

Fear.

Raw.

Unfiltered.

Not because Victor had hurt him.

But because—

He could.

And hadn’t needed to.

”You’re already an intermediate level mage and your mana pool is decent enough, but your body is too weak.”

Victor stopped in front of him.

Close enough to feel the pressure.

”There are two options you could take right now.”

Humer swallowed.

”I’ll give you the option to choose which training style you prefer to use.”

Victor raised one finger.

”The first option is the traditional route. Basic training to strengthen your foundation.”

His voice was steady.

”Doing this will make you stronger... but the results won’t be apparent in the beginning.”

A pause.

”You’ll only see changes after a few months.”

Then—

A second finger.

”The second option...”

His tone shifted slightly.

Lower.

Heavier.

”...is one of extreme pain and suffering.”

Humer’s fingers twitched.

Yet Victor continued.

”Yet picking this option...”

His golden eyes locked onto him.

”...your body will get stronger faster.”

A step closer.

”In a few days... you will see great improvements.”

Silence.

The wind brushed past them.

Soft.

Cold.

”So—”

Victor tilted his head slightly.

”Which option will you choose?”

Humer looked at him.

At that faint smirk.

At those eyes that already knew.

His heart pounded.

Fear screamed.

But something else rose with it.

Determination.

I won’t stay weak.

His jaw tightened.

And Victor—

Watched.

Already knowing the answer.