The Extra Who Will Swallow The Plot-Chapter 129: Evening Preparations

The fight escalated, both combatants pushing toward their respective limits with intensity that transformed the desert arena into chaos of motion and energy.

Raze’s katana became a blur of steel, striking from angles that shouldn’t have been possible as he incorporated Void Step into his offense rather than just defense. Partial displacements moved his blade through compressed space, attacks materializing at the golem’s vulnerable points without telegraphing motion. His footwork was impeccable, bloodline-enhanced agility allowing him to dance around lightning strikes that scorched the sand where he’d been standing milliseconds before.

The golem adapted with mechanical perfection, its tactical intelligence learning from each exchange and developing increasingly sophisticated counters. It started predicting his displacement patterns, placing attacks where he would arrive rather than where he currently stood. Its remaining arm moved with devastating efficiency, single limb generating offensive pressure that rivaled what two arms had managed earlier through pure optimization of movement and timing.

Lightning crashed around them in patterns that grew progressively more complex. The construct had stopped using simple directed beams, instead creating electrical networks that covered multiple potential escape routes simultaneously. Raze’s bloodline resistance prevented instant incapacitation, but the accumulated damage was wearing him down incrementally. Burns marked his arms where discharge had penetrated his natural defenses, and his muscles were beginning to cramp from repeated exposure to voltage.

He scored another hit on the golem’s damaged torso, widening the cracks that threatened structural integrity. Then another strike found the construct’s right knee joint, creating fracture that made its movement slightly less stable. But each successful attack came at cost, electrical discharge punishing him for the proximity required to land his blade.

The exchange stretched on, both fighters giving everything they had. Raze’s stamina reserves depleted toward dangerous levels, his breathing ragged and vision beginning to blur from exhaustion and dehydration. The golem’s stone body accumulated damage that reduced its combat efficiency with each passing second, cracks spreading across its torso and remaining limbs like spiderweb consuming its structural cohesion.

Then, simultaneously, they reached their breaking points.

Raze triggered one final Void Step, displacement carrying him into range for strike at the golem’s core where all the cracks converged. His katana descended toward the critical point with everything he had left, bloodline surging to enhance the blow beyond what his exhausted muscles could normally generate.

The golem’s remaining arm swung to intercept, not trying to block but instead grabbing his blade mid-strike. Electrical discharge exploded from the construct’s grip, maximum voltage channeled directly into the katana and up toward Raze’s hands. The lightning overwhelmed his bloodline resistance through sheer magnitude, current finally penetrating deep enough to disrupt his nervous system.

His strike connected even as the electricity seized his muscles. The katana punched into the golem’s damaged core, fracturing the central structure that maintained the construct’s animation. Stone shattered, internal mechanisms failing catastrophically as the blade found something vital within the artificial body.

They both collapsed simultaneously.

Raze hit the sand hard, body convulsing from electrical shock that made his muscles lock and spasm uncontrollably. The golem crumbled beside him, its core compromised beyond the point where it could maintain cohesion. Stone fragments scattered across the desert floor, the construct’s form disintegrating into component pieces as whatever magic animated it failed completely.

The security protocols activated immediately, recognizing that both combatants had sustained damage exceeding safe thresholds. Healing energy washed over Raze, soothing the burns and clearing the electrical disruption from his nervous system. The paralysis faded within seconds, muscle control returning as the automated intervention restored him to functional condition.

He lay in the sand for a long moment, staring up at the merciless sun while his mind processed what had just occurred. The golem’s fragments were already dissolving, the construct reforming wherever the Training Ground stored inactive golems rather than remaining scattered across the arena.

’Draw,’ Raze thought, chest heaving as he caught his breath. ’We both went down at the same instant. Neither won, neither lost, just mutual destruction that required security intervention to prevent permanent damage to the only participant capable of actually dying.’

But the draw felt like victory despite the technical stalemate. He’d fought Master Peak opponent to mutual collapse, proven his capabilities extended far beyond what Master Low classification suggested should be possible. The combination of his bloodline, Asura’s training, and natural combat aptitude created synergy that transcended normal hierarchical limitations.

’I can fight multiple ranks above my official cultivation,’ he confirmed, sitting up slowly and testing his restored mobility. ’Not dominate, clearly struggling against superior opponents, but compete at level that should be impossible. That’s the advantage the Empyrean Sovereign bloodline provides when properly developed.’

The desert terrain dissolved around him, reality shifting back to the void-suspended chamber where he’d started. His body felt fine now, the security protocols having restored him completely, but the mental exhaustion from the intense fight remained. That kind of extended high-level combat drained more than just physical reserves.

Raze stood carefully, retrieving his katana from where it had fallen during the collapse. The blade was undamaged despite the electrical discharge that had traveled through it, the weapon’s quality sufficient to withstand forces that would have destroyed lesser steel.

He moved toward the exit, stepping through the doorway that led back to the Training Ground’s exterior. Space distorted again, the dimensional transition carrying him from isolated chamber back to normal reality outside the building’s entrance.

The sun was substantially higher than when he’d entered, suggesting the fight had consumed more time than he’d realized. The mid-morning light painted everything in warm tones that contrasted sharply with the void chamber’s eerie illumination.

Voices drew his attention toward the kingdom’s training yard, where he could see his people gathered in organized groups. Team A clustered on the left side of the space, Team B on the right, both engaged in coordinated drills that showed surprising cohesion for having been assigned only yesterday.

Raze approached quietly, observing without immediately announcing his presence. Fedora led Team A through formation exercises, her telekinetic authority providing tactile feedback when people moved incorrectly. She’d call out corrections in clear voice that carried authority without being harsh, and the team members adjusted smoothly based on her guidance.

"Helena, your spacing is off by half a meter, tighten up! Good, maintain that distance. Julian, you’re telegraphing your movements, keep your shoulders neutral! Better, that’s the positioning we need."

Team A moved through the formations with increasing coordination, responding to Fedora’s commands with trust that suggested they’d already started developing the team cohesion he’d emphasized. The drills weren’t complex yet, just basic positioning and movement patterns, but the foundation was solid.

Team B worked under Darius’s instruction on the opposite side of the yard, focused on breathing synchronization rather than positioning. His Breathflow methodology was being taught to the entire team, everyone moving through controlled respiratory patterns while executing simple combat forms.

"Inhale for three steps, exhale for three steps, maintain the rhythm regardless of intensity! Your breathing powers everything, stabilize it and your technique stabilizes automatically. Garrett, you’re rushing the exhale, slow it down! There, feel how that changes your balance?"

The team members were struggling with the coordination required to match breathing with movement, but persistence was visible across the group. They kept trying despite repeated failures, adjusting based on Darius’s corrections rather than giving up when the technique proved difficult.

’They’ve taken initiative,’ Raze thought with approval he didn’t bother hiding since nobody was watching him yet. ’Started training without waiting for my instruction, developed team-specific approaches based on their leaders’ strengths. Fedora using her authority for tactical positioning, Darius teaching foundational technique that will serve them regardless of individual combat style. That’s exactly the kind of independent leadership I was hoping to see.’

He watched for another few minutes, noting which team members adapted quickly versus which ones needed repeated correction. Helena was excellent with spatial awareness, her spear training translating well to formation discipline. Garrett had natural aggression that made him effective individually but sometimes disrupted team coordination when he pushed too far forward. Julian’s stealth background made him uncomfortable with obvious formations, but he was adjusting gradually.

Both teams paused simultaneously as they noticed his presence, attention shifting toward their King despite being mid-drill. The focus was immediate and complete, conversations dying as everyone recognized he was observing their practice.

"Continue," Raze said, gesturing for them to resume their exercises. "Don’t stop training just because I’m watching. Part of developing team cohesion is maintaining performance regardless of external observation."

They hesitated fractionally before Fedora and Darius called their teams back to order. The drills resumed, though with slightly more tension now that they knew their King was evaluating their progress.

Raze circled the training yard slowly, pausing occasionally to offer corrections or suggestions that built on what the team leaders were already teaching.

"Team A, when you’re holding formation, remember that spacing isn’t just about distance. It’s about maintaining angles that prevent enemies from exploiting gaps. If you’re too linear, opponents can penetrate between positions. Stagger slightly, create overlapping fields of coverage."

He demonstrated with hand gestures, showing how offset positioning created defensive advantage that straight lines couldn’t match. Team A adjusted immediately, formation tightening in ways that looked less organized but were actually more effective tactically.

For Team B, he focused on the breathing technique Darius was teaching. "The rhythm is foundation, but don’t become so fixated on perfect counting that you forget to actually breathe properly. Deep breaths that fully expand your lungs, complete exhalations that empty them entirely. The three-count is guideline, not rigid rule. If you need four counts because your lung capacity is larger, adjust accordingly."

Several team members looked relieved at that clarification, apparently having been struggling to match the prescribed rhythm to their individual physiology. They adjusted their breathing patterns with immediate improvement in their overall form execution.

Raze spent twenty minutes providing targeted advice, moving between both teams and addressing issues he noticed during observation. The corrections were specific rather than generic, acknowledging individual differences rather than demanding everyone conform to identical standard.

"Good work," he finally said, addressing both teams collectively. "You’ve made solid progress in less than a day. Keep training together, keep developing familiarity with how your teammates move and think. The better you know each other, the more effective you’ll be when actual tests require coordinated response under pressure."

He gestured toward the Training Ground building. "That facility is available whenever you want to use it. High mana density environment will accelerate your cultivation advancement, and the golem sparring partners provide realistic combat practice against Authority users. I recommend everyone spend time there daily, but don’t overtrain to the point where you’re accumulating injuries faster than you can recover."

The kingdom members were clearly eager to access the Training Ground, interest visible across multiple faces despite their current exhaustion from the morning drills.

"For now, continue your team exercises," Raze instructed. "I’ll be conducting individual assessments later this afternoon, brief sessions where I evaluate your specific capabilities and provide personalized training guidance. Fedora and Darius will coordinate the scheduling."

He turned away from the assembled teams, calling out without looking back. "Bephe! Come here!"

The prehistoric predator emerged from wherever he’d been lounging, moving with deceptive laziness that concealed the deadly power contained within his juvenile form. Bephe approached and sat beside Raze, massive head tilting in what might have been curiosity about why his master was summoning him.

"We’re going to spar," Raze informed the creature, scratching behind his ear ridge. "You’ve been growing stronger, but growth without training just means undisciplined power. Time to refine your combat instincts, teach you to fight with strategy rather than just overwhelming force."

Bephe rumbled something that sounded like enthusiasm, the prehistoric predator apparently pleased at the prospect of sanctioned violence against his master. The creature’s tail swished with anticipation, creating small dust clouds where it swept across the ground.

They moved to an empty section of the training yard, area with enough space for Bephe to maneuver at full juvenile size without risking collateral damage to nearby structures. Raze drew his katana, settling into ready stance while the prehistoric predator positioned himself at comfortable charging distance.

"Rules are simple," Raze explained, though he wasn’t certain how much Bephe actually understood verbal instruction versus just reading intent through their bond. "You try to hit me, I try to avoid while landing touches with the blade’s flat side. No actual cutting, just impact training. The goal is teaching you to fight opponents who are faster and more technical than you rather than just relying on your natural advantages."

Bephe growled acknowledgment, muscles tensing in preparation for assault.

"Begin," Raze said, and the prehistoric predator charged.

The sparring session was educational for both of them. Bephe’s raw power was extraordinary even in juvenile form, each strike carrying force that would absolutely pulverize anything it connected with properly. But the creature’s technique was undeveloped, attacks telegraphed and predictable because Bephe relied on overwhelming physical advantage rather than refined skill.

Raze spent the session teaching through demonstration, dodging the prehistoric predator’s charges while landing touches with his katana’s flat blade whenever openings appeared. Each touch was accompanied by verbal correction, pointing out what Bephe had done wrong and how more sophisticated opponents would exploit those same mistakes.

"You’re telegraphing by shifting your weight before charging. Experienced fighters will read that and dodge before you’ve even moved. Keep your center balanced until the instant you commit."

Touch to Bephe’s shoulder.

"Your recovery after missed attacks is too slow. You overcommit to strikes, which leaves you vulnerable if they don’t connect. Learn to abort attacks mid-motion, maintain defensive awareness even while being aggressive."

Touch to the creature’s flank.

"You’re fixating on single target. Real fights often involve multiple opponents. Practice maintaining awareness of entire battlefield rather than tunnel-visioning on whoever you’re currently trying to kill."

Touch to Bephe’s hindquarters. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

The prehistoric predator was learning, adjustments visible in how he approached subsequent exchanges. The charges became less predictable, recovery times shortened, spatial awareness gradually improving. Bephe was intelligent despite being a bound beast, capable of adapting when given proper instruction.

They continued for thirty minutes, Raze pushing the creature toward incremental improvement rather than expecting dramatic transformation in a single session. By the end, Bephe was moving noticeably better, attacks carrying more sophistication even if overall technique remained rough.

"Good progress," Raze said, sheathing his katana as he called the session to conclusion. "We’ll do this regularly, keep refining your instincts until fighting smart becomes as natural as fighting hard."

Bephe rumbled with satisfaction, the prehistoric predator apparently pleased despite the numerous touches Raze had landed during their sparring. The creature settled into resting position, panting slightly from the exertion.

The day was advancing toward afternoon now, sun climbing toward its zenith and temperature rising accordingly. Raze checked his bracelet interface, noting the time and mentally organizing his remaining priorities.

Classes started tomorrow. The realization brought a mixture of anticipation and logistical concern as he navigated to his curriculum schedule, reviewing what the Academy had arranged.

The class structure was clear: General Classes attended by all 450 delegates, King Classes restricted to the ten provisional rulers, and Piece Classes where counterparts from different kingdoms trained together. Three distinct tiers serving different educational purposes.

But there was also the elective enrollment, optional specializations beyond the mandatory curriculum. Raze scrolled through available options, considering which would provide the most value given his specific development needs and strategic goals.

[Beast Companion Training and Development] caught his attention immediately. Given Bephe’s presence and potential, structured instruction on maximizing bound creature capabilities seemed obviously beneficial. He enrolled in that without hesitation.

[Advanced Weapon Techniques] was tempting but probably redundant given Asura’s personal instruction exceeded what any Academy course could provide. He skipped it.

[Cultivation Theory and Breakthrough Assistance] might be useful for others, but his bloodline progression followed different rules than standard cultivation methodology. Another skip.

[Tactical Command and Large-Scale Coordination] had potential value for managing kingdom operations during complex tests. He enrolled, figuring the strategic frameworks would complement his existing tactical knowledge.

[Intelligence Gathering and Counter-Intelligence] wasn’t his specialization, but understanding the principles would help him better utilize Julian and coordinate with other kingdoms’ intelligence operations. Enrolled.

He finalized his elective selections, the interface confirming his class schedule for the upcoming week. The timing looked manageable, spread across days in ways that left gaps for kingdom management and personal training rather than consuming every waking hour.

But one significant question remained unanswered: how exactly would he attend classes when there was no obvious way to leave his kingdom’s territory?

The borders were marked by those invisible barriers he’d discovered during his initial exploration, magical boundaries that prevented passage beyond the designated area. The Academy’s territories were clearly separated, individual kingdoms isolated from each other except during specific tests or events.

’There must be a transportation system,’ Raze reasoned, reviewing the class information for details he might have missed. ’Some way to move between kingdom territories and the central Academy facilities where instruction occurs. Otherwise the entire curriculum structure makes no sense.’

A notification appeared on his bracelet as though responding to his confusion:

[Transportation Protocol - Academic Sessions]

[Students will be teleported to appropriate classroom facilities fifteen minutes before scheduled instruction begins. Return transportation to kingdom territories occurs automatically upon class conclusion. Attendance is tracked through bracelet registration. Unauthorized absence results in Academy Point penalties and potential disciplinary action.]

That answered the logistics question, though it raised new concerns about security. Automatic teleportation meant leaving his kingdom undefended during class sessions, trusting that the Academy wouldn’t schedule tests during mandatory instruction periods. Probably a safe assumption, but still something to consider when developing defensive strategies.

The notification also confirmed something he’d already understood: Kings, Pieces, and general members couldn’t attend the same classes. The three-tier system meant he’d be separated from his kingdom during King Classes, unable to directly observe or guide their development during those specific sessions. Trust in his chosen leaders became essential rather than optional.

’Fedora and Darius will handle kingdom management during my absence,’ he thought, mentally reviewing the organizational structure they’d established. ’The Pieces are competent, and the general members are following instructions well enough. We should be fine for a few hours of separation daily.’

The afternoon stretched ahead with a few more hours before evening. Raze conducted the individual assessments he’d mentioned, brief one-on-one sessions with each kingdom member where he evaluated their specific capabilities and provided personalized training guidance. The sessions were efficient rather than extensive, just enough interaction to understand each person’s strengths and weaknesses for future reference.

Helena’s spear work was exceptional, her technique polished through years of dedicated practice. He gave her exercises focused on adapting her style to group combat rather than individual dueling.

Garrett’s aggressive instincts needed tempering with better defensive awareness. Raze assigned him drills that forced consideration of consequences rather than just attacking whatever looked vulnerable.

Julian’s stealth capabilities were solid, but his direct combat skills were underdeveloped. Training focused on improving his ability to fight effectively when concealment wasn’t an option.

The assessments continued through the afternoon, each interaction revealing details that would inform how he approached future training sessions and kingdom development.

By evening, Raze was mentally exhausted despite the physical fatigue having been mostly managed through proper rest between activities. The constant evaluation, instruction, and strategic planning consumed cognitive resources that were harder to restore than mere stamina.

Dinner at the Mess Hall was a quiet affair, kingdom members eating in their assigned teams while discussing the day’s training and speculating about tomorrow’s classes. Raze sat with Fedora and Darius, the three of them coordinating schedules and confirming that kingdom operations would proceed smoothly during their various class-imposed separations.

They discussed logistics until the meal concluded, then dispersed to handle evening preparations. Raze returned to his quarters as the sun set, the day’s accumulated activities weighing heavily despite the productive outcomes.

Bephe was already stationed outside his door, the prehistoric predator having apparently decided this was his permanent post. The creature acknowledged Raze’s arrival with a lazy tail swish but didn’t move from his comfortable position.

Inside, Raze went through the evening routine with mechanical efficiency. Quick wash, comfortable clothes, stretching to maintain flexibility. His reflection in the mirror showed someone who looked substantially more tired than this morning, though the fatigue was clean rather than concerning.

He settled into a meditation position as full darkness claimed the sky outside. The familiar descent began immediately, consciousness sinking inward toward the mind space where Asura waited with his endless training regimens and sharp commentary.

The transition was smooth now, practiced through repetition until entering his own mental construct felt as natural as walking through a door. Reality folded away, replaced by that vast void filled with drifting stars that pulsed like living things.

Asura stood at the chamber’s center, arms crossed and expression carrying satisfaction that suggested he’d been observing Raze’s activities throughout the day despite remaining dormant.

"You fought Master Peak golem to a draw," the ancient being said without preamble. "Impressive for someone who’s supposedly Master Low rank. Though the draw was closer to defeat than you’re probably admitting to yourself. That last exchange required security intervention to prevent serious injury."

"It was a test of limits," Raze replied, settling into a ready stance. "Understanding capability ceiling requires pushing until you find where ability ends and failure begins. Can’t do that safely without security protocols preventing permanent consequences."

"Fair assessment," Asura acknowledged. "And you discovered your bloodline provides substantial combat advantages when properly utilized. The speed enhancement, the elemental resistance, the capability to fight multiple ranks above your classification. All products of Empyrean Sovereign heritage operating outside normal hierarchical limitations."

The ancient being’s expression shifted toward something more serious.

"But you’re also learning the costs. That fight exhausted you completely, drained reserves you’ll need for actual threats where security protocols won’t save you. Using bloodline capabilities at full intensity for extended periods creates fatigue that takes time to recover from. You can fight above your rank, but not indefinitely and not without consequences."

"Understood," Raze confirmed. "Which is why continued training matters. Building stamina, improving efficiency, learning to achieve the same results with less energy expenditure."

"Exactly." Asura’s crimson eyes blazed slightly brighter. "So let’s continue your development. Same as always: I provide pressure, you adapt and refine, incremental improvements accumulate into substantial capability gains."

The ancient being moved into combat stance, and their nightly training session began in earnest.

Hours passed in the accelerated time flow of the mind space. Strike and counter and correction, endless repetition that built pathways through muscle memory and neural adaptation. Raze’s technique grew incrementally cleaner, his responses fractionally faster, his energy expenditure marginally more efficient.

By the time Asura called the session to conclusion, subjective time had stretched far beyond the external hours that had actually elapsed. Raze’s mind was thoroughly exhausted, the mental fatigue from sustained high-level training as draining as any physical exertion.

"Rest," Asura commanded, already fading back into dormancy. "You’ll need all your strength for tomorrow."

The mind space dissolved, consciousness returning to his physical body that remained in a meditation position on his quarters’ floor. Raze opened his eyes slowly, finding his room exactly as he’d left it with darkness visible through the window.

He stood carefully, joints protesting from extended immobility, and moved toward his bed.

The Academy’s formal instruction would begin tomorrow, exposure to whatever curriculum the institution had developed for shaping exceptional students into future leaders.

Raze settled into his bed, his consciousness already fading toward genuine sleep. His last thought before darkness claimed him completely was simple acknowledgment of progress made and challenges yet to come.