CHAPTER 35: THE CONQUEST BEGAN

Around 2:20, since I had nothing else to do and didn’t want to attend any more classes, I decided to go to the library to calm my mind by reading a few books and maybe borrowing some.

"Don’t forget to buy me more reinforcement elixirs." I dismissed my bodyguard.

Arriving at the eighth-floor library, it was indeed immense, with thousands of books sorted by theme. The space exuded a soothing atmosphere. Smiling, I approached the librarian and asked for novel recommendations.

With his suggestions in mind, I wandered the novel aisle before sitting at one of the tables. There weren’t many students, about thirty. As I settled in with my two novels, I heard a graceful voice near my ear.

"Ohh~ The sword genius is also a keen reader."

A bit surprised, I searched for the source of the sound. After a few seconds, I noticed Sahara, who was waving me over.

A sound affinity spell...

I walked over to her, sitting by the window with a view overlooking the courtyard. She wore a black dress with gold stripes, sleeveless, practically a leotard. She seemed to be doing it on purpose, always oozing sex appeal to attract the longing gaze of poor guys who became her slaves.

Sitting down, I said with an amused eyebrow:

"Ohh~ This witch could also be so beautiful?"

"This macho is actually romantic~"

She replied with a laugh, glancing at the novels in my hands.

"And since when am I a macho?"

"Since you’ve been looking at me with desire even though you’re engaged." She leaned forward, revealing far too much cleavage. Resisting her allure and those visuals was mental torture.

"Well, we desire what we can’t have, Lady Wolberg."

"Hmm~ You’re playful. Then prove to me that you’re capable."

"It’s still too early. You’re the center of attention for all the boys, even your seniors. I need to be at least Emperor Rê’s level. Otherwise, I risk getting jealous."

She smiled and replied:

"Fufufu. Am I also the center of your interest, young Lord Daemon~?"

"Indeed, I think about you all the time," I replied, looking her in the eyes.

She, who had been smiling since the start of our conversation, suddenly turned serious, removing her monocle.

"Let’s be frank. I can tell it doesn’t affect you."

I nodded and asked, "You should stop trying to seduce me to control me. It won’t happen."

"Hmm~ I risk nothing by trying."

"If you want." I crossed my arms.

"You’re not going to ask why I called you?"

"Tell me, Witch."

"The conquest of the B-rank dungeon [Mountain of Death]?"

"I’m surprised you’re asking me. So you had something in mind?"

"You said you wanted to kill Scarlett MoonShade, right? Now’s the perfect time."

"Oh... That interests me. I’m starting to like your danger, witch."

...

The next day.

I’d pushed the treadmill to its maximum speed and ran until my legs gave out. My lungs burned, my heart pounded in my chest as if it wanted to escape. Then, I’d chained into sets of push-ups, squats, pull-ups, without pause, until failure.

I’d eaten like a monster: raw eggs, tuna, beans, brown rice. Not for the taste. For mass. For recovery. I’d downed a reinforcement elixir, a thick, bitter concoction that turned my stomach but restored my muscles.

The following days, the pain was constant. My body trembled every time I put a foot on the ground. But I kept going. I ran with weights, lifted dumbbells, practiced striking the air with a training sword. Every movement wrenched a grimace from me, but I repeated it again and again. I’d doubled my Augere dose by the first week. My body heated up at night, I sweated without moving, and sometimes I lost my balance just standing up. But my muscles responded.

By the thirtieth day, I’d started wearing a weighted suit. First ten kilos, then fifteen, then thirty. I ran with it, almost slept with it. My treadmill finally broke under the strain. So I went running outside, at dawn or in the middle of the night, whatever. I’d hired a former swordsman to correct my movements. He spoke little but struck hard. My forearms were marked, but my gestures became more precise.

On the thirtieth day, I finally felt my back tense like a drawn bowstring. My shoulders were broad, my arms solid. I spent two hours every evening wielding a raw steel sword. My breathing stabilized, my heart rate slowed. I wasn’t trying to awaken my aura. My talentless body wouldn’t allow it in so little time. But I wanted it to reach its maximum threshold. A perfect foundation.

On the forty-ninth day, I woke up with soreness. But no time to whine. I got up, bandaged my hands, and started again.

By the end of the day, I’d gotten rid of the swordsman who’d been teaching me the basics. I couldn’t let him say he’d taught the sword genius. He ended up in a barrel of cement that my bodyguard disposed of without knowing the contents.

And finally... Two months passed.

***

I stood in front of the mirror, contemplating my reflection.

My body no longer resembled what it had been before. Two months of hell. Two months of blood, sweat, and pain. But the result was there.

My shoulders were now broad, striped with prominent veins. My once-thin arms had lean, defined muscles. My torso had plank-like abs, all covered in faint scars, traces of the high-quality Augere injections that hadn’t fully healed.

Even my face had changed a bit, much more angular.

"System!"

A blue window appeared before me, displaying my new stats.

[Ding!

Name: Daemon Leen Indivar

Strength: E+

Endurance: D-

Speed: E+

Intelligence: A+

Mana: Null

Aura: Null

Lineage: ???

Contract: 0

Pact: 0

Weapon: Khaïbet-Nefertoum (Unusable)]

"There’ve been quite a few changes."

I smiled, satisfied. Fuck, those days were tough... but it paid off. The elixirs and high-quality Augere had worked miracles.

After some morning stretches, I continued my training routine—lighter today, so as not to exhaust myself before the trial. Then an ice-cold shower to wake up every nerve, every muscle.

Today was the day.

The conquest began.