The Devouring Knight-Chapter 142 - 141: Fires of Change

The battle raged on.

Without warning, spears of flame, brilliant constructs of condensed mana, materialized in the air above Vaenyra. They hovered for a breathless moment, then lunged downward like divine wrath, each one exploding in a fiery detonation upon impact.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The blasts shook the ground like thunderclaps, kicking up dirt and smoke. Lumberling turned sharply, Aurelya stood at the edge of the field, her golden eyes alight with focus. Her palm was raised, channeling mana into the air. She was the one casting them.

One by one, the fiery spears spawned above and rained down, but Vaenyra weaved through them with impossible grace. Her feet barely touched the ground, her clothes fluttering in the air. She dodged every blast by inches, never losing momentum.

’How the hell is she moving like that?’

Lumberling narrowed his eyes, then slipped into the shadows behind the smoke, angling around her blind spot. The moment another fire spear formed overhead, he struck, lunging forward with his spear to pin her in place for the explosion.

It should’ve worked.

But in the blink of an eye, Vaenyra twisted, ducked, and spun away from his thrust, and from the incoming fire spear. Both attacks missed, and she emerged from the smoke, untouched.

’What the...? She moved before either of us committed. It’s like she can see the future...’

A surge of frustration flickered in his chest, quickly doused by awe.

’Is that instinct? Foresight? Or just raw experience...?’

The spar intensified.

Aurelya shot forward again, blade flashing with golden arcane light, while Thessalia loosed a volley of shock arrows from the opposite side. But Vaenyra moved like a phantom, deflecting, ducking, dashing.

Aurelya was knocked aside by a whip-fast backhand to the gut. Thessalia was disarmed with a flick of Vaenyra’s wrist, sent skidding across the stone with her bow clattering behind her.

And then.

"Enough dancing," Vaenyra muttered, turning to Lumberling.

The other two lay on the ground, battered and groaning. They weren’t unconscious, but they were spent.

Now it was just him.

"You’ve got good stamina," she said, twirling her blade with one hand. "Still standing. That’s impressive."

Lumberling panted, spear trembling slightly in his grip. His arms were numb. His ribs still ached from earlier.

He kept his mouth shut. Words wouldn’t help now.

Instead, he rushed her again, a jagged, angular thrust that had caught multiple opponents off guard in the past.

But Vaenyra’s eyes followed the motion with chilling clarity.

Clang!

She deflected the strike and pivoted beside him, her voice calm as if they were sharing tea.

"Your fighting style is unpredictable," she said. "Creative, even. But it’s built on improvisation, not structure."

He grunted and broke away, circling again.

"You gamble with every strike," she continued, parrying his next jab with a single hand. "That’s fine against someone slower. But against someone faster, someone who’s seen more..."

She feinted, and struck him across the thigh with the flat of her blade. His leg buckled, but he forced himself upright again.

"...it leaves you open."

Lumberling didn’t answer. He reset his stance, teeth gritted, eyes burning.

’Then I’ll just have to get faster. Smarter. Stronger.’

.....

Minutes later, the training ground fell silent, save for the ragged breathing of three sprawled figures.

Aurelya, Thessalia, and Lumberling lay flat on their backs, sweat-drenched and bruised, their chests heaving as they stared up at the sky.

"That’s enough for today," Vaenyra’s calm voice cut through the quiet. Her tone remained composed, as if she hadn’t broken a sweat. "We’ll continue sparring tomorrow. Rest up, for your magic training resumes later."

Aurelya groaned, lifting her arm to wipe the sweat from her brow. "We’re sparring again tomorrow?" she whined. "Are you trying to kill us?"

"If you don’t want to join, no one’s forcing you," Vaenyra replied without looking back. Her tone was neutral, but the subtle smirk tugging at her lips didn’t go unnoticed.

Aurelya clicked her tongue and turned her head away with a huff.

Thessalia remained quiet, seated with one knee raised, her bow resting across her lap. She watched the others, Aurelya whining dramatically, Vaenyra giving her usual curt replies, but something about Vaenyra felt different now.

She was still cold, composed... yet her eyes had burned during the fight. There had been purpose in her movements, eagerness behind every strike. That wasn’t just discipline.

’She’s changing,’ Thessalia realized.

Vaenyra, who once sparred only to instruct, had fought today like someone chasing growth, like someone ignited.

Her gaze drifted to Lumberling. He stood off to the side, battered and smiling faintly, sweat clinging to his dark armor, still gripping his spear like he didn’t want the fight to end. He had that same quiet fire, untamed, stubborn, and strangely contagious.

’Did he began to influence her too?’ Thessalia thought, eyes lingering on him longer than she meant to.

It wasn’t just Vaenyra. Not just Aurelya.

’I don’t want to be left behind.’

The thought landed with weight. The quiet flicker she’d always carried, that steady, cold ambition, now flared into something hotter. Sharper. She wanted to grow stronger too. Not out of pride or obligation, but because part of her wanted to stand beside them, not behind.

And maybe, just maybe... part of her wanted him to see her, too.

...

After a grueling noon session of magic training with Thessalia and Aurelya, Lumberling made his way to the old tree on the hill, his usual spot for cultivation.

The air was still, dappled sunlight filtering through thick branches overhead. It was a quiet place, sacred in its own way.

Normally, he’d find Aurelya there, nose buried in a tome or launching spells at invisible targets in bursts of impatience. But today, someone else sat beneath the tree’s shade.

Vaenyra.

She sat cross-legged, spine straight, eyes closed in deep meditation.

"You’re here too?" Lumberling asked, eyebrows slightly raised.

Vaenyra opened one eye and glanced at him. "Just curious," she said flatly.

Then she shut her eyes again, adjusting her posture with practiced grace. Her long blue hair shifted over her shoulder as she exhaled, calm, composed... but only on the surface.

Lumberling chuckled softly under his breath. He saw it, the faintest twitch at the corner of her lips, the telltale sign she was bracing for another one of his remarks.

He didn’t say anything this time. Just smiled, set down his spear and lowered himself onto the grass, settling into the familiar rhythm of the Imperial Mindseal Meditation. He let the silence stretch between them, comfortable, charged, and quietly curious.

But not for long.

Though her eyes remained closed, Vaenyra wasn’t truly meditating anymore. Something drew her attention, an unfamiliar sensation in the air. When she finally risked a peek, she saw it: faint currents of strange energy circling around Lumberling’s body, moving in slow, deliberate arcs.

What kind of training was this?

She wanted to ask, but didn’t.

As the wind passed between them, a single leaf drifted from the tree and landed between their hands. Neither moved to brush it away.