Sokram didn’t hold back and followed her. But in his haste, overwhelmed by his emotions, he lost sight of her.

When he finally found her again, she was already preparing to start a training routine that he knew by heart.

Leona, true to her Lion-kin heritage, embodied the ferocity and grace of her namesake.

Her mane-like blonde waves cascaded down her back, tanned olive skin, framing amber eyes that burned with unyielding determination.

She was muscular yet very feminine and voluptuous, standing at 1.9 meters tall.

She was a sight to behold. But she was also Sokram’s master.

A Tier 8 Sword Master at the Uncommon Existence Level. From her, he learned the Killing Blade Art.

She had given him his first weapon, a katana, which he treasured deeply, if only for its sentimental value.

Leona was the second wife of the City Lord's son and served as the Level 3 Advanced Combat Training teacher when she wasn’t out on missions.

Sokram wanted one thing from her: for her to accept him as her disciple again.

This was crucial to his plans, but he knew better than to rush her. For now, he settled on watching her practice.

He had to admit, for someone born on such a small, forgotten planet within the Awakened Zone, she was incredibly talented in the way of the sword.

It was clear from her shadow fighting that the Killing Blade Art was ingrained in her mind, heart, and muscles.

Her footwork was flawless, her balance impeccable, and whoever she visualized as her opponent would be very sorry to cross her path again.

As Sokram immersed himself in watching the very technique he had refined, enhanced, and recreated for countless years.

Thoroughly engrossed, he got careless for a second and tripped over something in the dark corner of the training ground.

“Come on out, kid. You’ve been watching me for a while now,” Leona turned, looking straight into his eyes.

“I didn’t mean to intrude on your training. I just got curious and then… I became mesmerized. Such amazing sword art,” Sokram approached unhesitantly.

Standing before her, Sokram’s breath hitched, just for a second.

The scent of steel and sweat triggered a buried memory: her blood warm over his chest, the fire in her ember eyes dimming as she spoke her last words… ‘Live on, Sokram. You are the last of us…’

His fingers twitched, an old reflex to reach for a blade, to protect what was already lost.

But then, as quickly as it surfaced, he swallowed it down, forcing his lips into the hesitant, eager expression of a boy mesmerized by a master’s skill.

“Heh, what does a kid as young as yourself know about my sword art?” Leona raised a brow at him with a mocking smirk.

“Not much, really. My Mom and grandmas have been insisting I pick a weapon, and I’ve tried many weapons, but none felt… right for me, I guess.” Sokram sighed, lowering his head in embarrassment.

But then, the light in his eyes reignited as his gaze met hers, “But I saw your sword art, and it was like I finally found the place I belong. I finally found a weapon that spoke to me…”

Before he could finish, she interrupted him.

“No! My sword art is not for kids.” Leona’s gaze hardened, her grip on the hilt tightening.

Sokram blinked.

“Eh?”

He had even put on his best passionate kid meets master act, only to be refused so flatly.

Leona turned away, resuming her stance. “Now, please leave. I want to practice in peace.”

Hearing Leona’s sharp dismissal, Sokram didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

But then he thought of another approach and asked, “Can’t I at least watch?”

She sighed, clearly losing patience, but before she could snap at him, Hilda’s voice cut through the tension.

“Sokram, dear, why weren’t you at the gates? I’ve been waiting for a while now,” Hilda asked as she approached him.

“Sorry, I got caught up watching her shadow fighting. Her technique is so amazing!” Sokram said excitedly.

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“Leona’s Killing Blade? Really?” Hilda asked, looking at him curiously.

She couldn’t imagine her sweet baby boy turning into a slaughtering beast.

“What’s wrong with my sword art, Hilda?” Leona frowned, looking hurt.

“Nothing. It’s indeed one of the best killing arts in the north, but I don’t think it matches his personality.” Hilda grinned, seeing Sokram’s exaggerated betrayed expression.

“By the way, how have you been? It’s been a while.” Hilda smiled at Leona warmly, as the two were close friends.

“I’ve been fine. I just returned from a tough mission. We missed a few good ones fighting against a Tier 8 Necromancer, maybe one above Uncommon. And as you know, they don’t fight clean. We didn’t even recover a single body…” Leona gashed her teeth, and her heart rate spiked, but her words trailed off as her gaze met Sokram’s.

“Sorry. I spoke too much. I don’t want to give your son nightmares,” Leona added, embarrassed.

“Nightmares? What are those?” Sokram joked, not wanting the mood to become gloomier.

“I’m sorry for your loss. How many of your team were there?” Hilda asked, glaring at Sokram for making light of such a grim subject.

She wasn’t worried about him hearing the details, though. A little scare could be educational about the harsh realities of the world outside the city’s walls.

Understanding Hilda’s intent, Leona began explaining what had happened. “All of them. Only half returned…”

Leona’s fists clenched as she recalled the stench of rotting flesh and the suffocating darkness of the cave.

The clash of steel against brittle bone rang in her ears as if she were still there, hacking through the necromancer’s horde.

They had cut down dozens, their blades carving a path through the decayed masses, but the bodies never stopped rising.

Three of her comrades fell, their screams lost in the heat of battle.

When the necromancer finally panicked, the air itself crackled with dark magic, then came the explosions.

If not for the priestess in her team raising a holy barrier to shield them, Leona herself might have died.

But even with that protection, another three members of her team were lost in the explosions.

Leona’s voice cracked as grief overtook her.

Her fierce amber eyes brimmed with tears, her jaw clenched in rage.

“Corpse Explosion… The coward sacrificed all his remaining undead to flee… And I… I lost half my team,” she choked out. “I couldn’t even take down that son of a whore!”

Her roar of anger echoed through the training grounds, raw and unrestrained.

Hilda remained silent, hugging her friend, waiting for her to compose herself.

But then they heard Sokram say, “If you want to kill him, you might still have a chance.”

Both Leona and Hilda turned to him, surprised by his sudden statement.

Sokram hesitated for a moment, but seeing Leona like that stirred something inside him. Even if he could not join her to avenge her team, he could aid her in getting revenge.

“Assuming the mission you went on was close to our border with Frostaxe. If not, I’m sorry for speaking too much. I deduced this because both Mom’s and Grandma’s latest missions were to find a few missing persons around that area, but they didn’t even find the bodies. So, if that is the case, he should still be around there, especially if he lost his undead army. But if I’m wrong, I apologize for speaking out of turn.”

At first, Leona and Hilda glared at him, disapproving of how much he was speculating. But as he continued, they couldn’t help but be intrigued. Sokram’s deductions were startlingly accurate; he was correct about where Leona’s mission had taken place and the connection to the disappearances.

Still, something puzzled them.

Leona finally inquired, “Why do you think he would still be around that area?”

“Think about it,” Sokram pressed. “Where else could he rebuild his army? The border with Frostaxe is littered with old battlefields. Places so ravaged by war that the dead were never reclaimed. If he’s desperate, he’ll stay nearby, harvesting those unclaimed bodies to recover his strength. Find the biggest battlefield, especially the ones where the war was so fierce that neither side collected their dead, and you’ll find the necromancer. After all, I don’t think he’d be crazy enough to barge into the city’s burial grounds.”

Leona’s amber eyes widened.

She was both amazed by his insight and disappointed that she hadn’t thought of this herself.

She was about to gather her things and depart, but remembered, “Dammit. I have already given my team their leave. By the time they return, it’ll be too late.”

But then another voice sounded to their ears. “How about I lend you a few swords? I have a whole team at my disposal, and I hate necromancers with a passion.”

“Mira? Shit… Sorry for leaving you waiting…” Hilda began apologizing, but then it dawned on her that Miralyn had probably been nearby the entire time, listening in.

“The newcomer, hm? I’ve heard great things about you and your team,” Leona stared, sizing her up. “If you’re serious, I’ll take you up on that offer. But I can’t pay you.”

“Well, necromancers are usually walking treasure stoves. As long as I can keep whatever we find on the necromancer's body, I’ll consider us even. And…” Miralyn paused, a teasing gleam in her eye as she pointed at Sokram.

Leona raised an eyebrow. “And you want me to take him as my disciple? What’s the relationship between you two, anyway?”

“She’s my… friend. Yes, friend,” Hilda replied, though her hesitation didn’t go unnoticed.

“My mother and Aunt Brunhild have had many dealings in the past,” Miralyn added smoothly. “So, when I moved here, they offered me a place to stay.”

Leona gave them both a knowing look. “Is there something going on between the two of you?”

“W-What do you mean?!” Miralyn stammered, looking like a child caught stealing cookies.

“What in the nether, Leona?!” Hilda exclaimed, completely flustered, staring at Leona for her lack of touch.

But she also glanced at Sokram, showing that they hadn’t had ‘the talk’ with him yet.

Yet Leona didn’t back down. “You’d have to get in line, Elfie,” She teased with a grin, earning a scandalized glare from both women.

Meanwhile, Sokram lingered nearby, his lips curling into a mischievous smile as he watched the scene unfold.

His sharp eyes danced between the three women, savoring the moment.

Hilda, noticing this, nodded to Miralyn before turning to him. “Dear, can you wait outside for a bit? Leona and I need to talk privately.”

“Alright,” Sokram replied, feigning innocence.

He walked out of the room, only to notice Miralyn following closely behind him.

Inside, Hilda and Leona spoke at length.

Sokram couldn’t hear a word, but he was certain it wasn’t just about the mission.

When they finally emerged, Leona seemed calmer, though nothing in their expressions betrayed the subject of their conversation.

“I’ll gather my stuff and meet you and your team at the front gate,” Leona told Miralyn, her tone lighter but still resolute.

“Alright, we’ll be there,” Miralyn replied, her gaze shifting subtly between Hilda and Leona.

Finally, Leona crouched down to look Sokram in the eye. “If... And I mean only if your deduction is correct. I’ll teach you my sword art.”

Sokram grinned confidently. “Alright. See you in three days, then.”

Without waiting for her response, he turned to Hilda. “Mom, I need a katana.”

Hilda and Miralyn chuckled at his boldness, but their laughter quickly gave way to worry.

If Sokram was that certain, it wasn’t something to take lightly.