SSS Ranked Merchant: Rebuilding a Broken Kingdom With Unlimited Wealth-Chapter 24: Pain Is A Great Teacher... Even For Babies?

He let her take a break, then moved on to footwork. She had expected something cool, maybe a flashy movement technique or magical dash. Instead, Usario made her walk.

"Forward. Backward. Side-step. Pivot. Do it again. Faster! No, don't stomp around like an angry goblin—be light on your feet!"

[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]

[AGILITY GAINED: +1 for every body positioning practice]

[You Have Gained +8 Agility]

She felt like she was in some kind of Sword Ballet of Pain.

Her legs ached, her balance was awful, and every time she messed up, Usario gently smacked her shin with a wooden cane.

"Ow!" she yelped after the tenth smack.

"Pain is a great teacher," Usario said, not looking sorry at all. "Now move."

After what felt like eternity, he finally nodded in approval. "Alright. Now we add magic."

'Finally!'

Usario lifted a hand, and a flicker of blue energy crackled at his fingertips. "Blademancing isn't just about hitting things harder. It's about infusing your strikes. Magic follows intent. If your intent is weak, your magic will be weak. Now, close your eyes. Focus on the sword in your hand. Feel the magic inside you."

She focused.

Reached deep into herself. She had magic, she knew she did, but calling it forth was like grasping at mist.

"Imagine your magic flowing from your core to the blade," Usario continued. "Don't force it—guide it. Let it respond to you."

Exhaling slowly, she visualed the energy in her chest moving down her arm, into her fingertips, and finally, into the sword.

A faint glow flowed along the blade. Barely noticeable, but it was there.

Her heart pounded. "I did it!"

"Hah! You call that a glow? I've seen dying fireflies shine brighter than that!" Usario barked, but there was a spark of pride in his eyes. "But not bad for a first attempt. Now do it again. And this time, don't lose it."

Lyrasia wiped the sweat from her forehead, panting slightly as she adjusted her stance.

The past few days had been grueling.

Every muscle in her tiny, underdeveloped body ached, yet she pushed forward, knowing full well she had no time to be weak.

Her sword hummed with a faint, crackling energy—a whisper of magic barely responding to her. She still had a long way to go before mastering Blademancing.

As she practiced, the rhythmic sound of magic being woven filled the air behind her. Meila and Ruan weren't standing idly by. They, too, had thrown themselves into training.

Meila, ever graceful, was already adapting well under Usario's guidance.

A mysticweaver, like her mentor, she elegantly wove strands of magic into a delicate, shimmering tapestry of spells, her fingertips gliding through the air as if conducting an invisible orchestra.

Threads of pure energy coiled and snapped into intricate formations, each one a prelude to some unseen attack or defense.

Usario nodded in approval, his arms crossed.

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"You've got the touch, girl. Keep refining those patterns, and you'll be shaping reality itself."

Meila beamed, continuing her elegant gestures, but the real surprise was Ruan.

Unlike the others, she didn't wield a sword or weave spells through refined technique.

No, Ruan did something entirely different.

Stepping forward, she pressed a palm to the ground and let out a deep breath, her expression one of absolute focus. The air grew thick, heavy with something ancient.

Then she spoke.

"I open the realm of Yakshoria," her voice rang out like a solemn invocation, the weight of her words crackling with unseen power. "I summon thee."

The ground trembled.

A gust of unnatural wind spiraled around her, drawing in loose dirt and leaves, forming a vortex of pure energy.

The sky above darkened, not with clouds, but with something deeper, something beyond the material realm.

A fissure split open in the very fabric of existence, glowing with eerie luminescence. From its depths, a clawed hand emerged, its fingers long and curved like obsidian talons.

Then came the rest—a towering, humanoid figure draped in violet, tattered ceremonial robes, embroidered with runes that pulsed with a faint, otherworldly glow.

Its head was adorned with a three-faced mask, each visage displaying a different expression, serene wisdom, unrelenting fury, and cold, detached judgment.

Its presence alone sent a ripple of pressure through the air, making Lyrasia's skin prickle.

Even Usario took a step back, his eyes narrowing.

"The Judge of Yakshoria..." he muttered, recognizing the entity for what it was.

The Judge stood silent at first, then, with slow, deliberate movement, it unfurled a massive scroll bound in iron. Symbols of divine law shimmered across its surface. When it spoke, its voice echoed as if spoken by a thousand tongues at once.

"I have answered your call, Pactbinder. Speak your decree."

Ruan, despite her usually casual demeanor, stood firm. Her mismatched eyes gleamed with a rare intensity.

"I invoke the Contract of Execution. You shall serve as my blade, my will," she declared, unwavering.

The Judge tilted its head, as if assessing her soul itself, then gave a slow, solemn nod. Chains of glowing silver coiled around Ruan's arm before fading into her skin. The pact was sealed.

Lyrasia could only gape. "Okay, what the hell."

"Well. That's... unexpected," The old man's eyes were wide agape. Never in this lifetime he had seen this much potential. "Child, how?...."

On the other hand, Meila was fuming with jealousy.

"Luck?"

Lyrasia groaned, running a hand down her face. Just when she thought she was surrounded by normal people.

"Summoning something like the Judge of Yakshoria isn't just 'luck.' It takes a deep connection, a powerful will. Ruan... you're more dangerous than I thought."

"I try."

"Great. Now I really have to work harder," Meila muttered to herself.

The Judge loomed silently behind Ruan, awaiting its next command. Training had just gotten a lot more complicated.