Aislyra was momentarily taken aback by the absurd speed generated by the minotaur's muscular legs combined with the Physical Enhancement spell. But when the hammer came swinging toward her, she dodged it with ease, stepping to the right—despite the overwhelming speed of the attack. The reason was simple: Lucas' movements had improved greatly since he had started training with her, but now, even though they were extremely fast thanks to the potion, they were also very clumsy.
The sudden change in height from the potion, the difficulty of controlling the raw strength it granted, and his lack of experience with heavy weaponry made it hard for Lucas to move efficiently in this transformed form.
Aislyra, however, was genuinely pleased. Her new big sister had wisely chosen to test this transformation against her before using it in a real battle. During this spar, she was determined to help train Lucas to master that form—and she couldn't wait to begin.
But for now there was a more immediate concern. Since Aislyra had dodged the hammer blow, the weapon smashed into the ground at full force, causing the entire training chamber to tremble. A crater nearly a meter wide cracked into the floor, and the elf had to hop lightly to the side just to avoid losing her balance.
'But the power is definitely there,' thought the silver-haired elf, glancing down at the crater. 'Good thing I decided to wear one of my higher-quality suits of armor for this match.'
At that moment, a faint smile spread across Lucas's face, followed by a blinding flash of light erupting from the warhammer.
"Shit!" Aislyra cursed, shielding her eyes far too late.
She had completely forgotten that Light Hammer wasn't just a dense, powerful weapon. It also had a secondary effect: when it struck something, it released a searing burst of light meant to blind opponents, but it had no effect on the wielder.
Caught off guard, Aislyra had no time to react, and her vision went white.
"Got you!" Lucas called proudly.
He swung the hammer again, this time confident that his attack would land. But even blinded, Aislyra was no amateur. Lucas's attacks, while strong, were still predictable, and she had sensed where he was aiming.
Relying on instinct, she brought her Ice Burn sword up in front of the left side of her body. The blow collided with it, sending a powerful shockwave rippling through her arms—but she managed to parry it. The sheer force of the impact, however, knocked her backward more than two meters.
"It was a good plan, Lucas," Aislyra admitted, her voice calm despite the ringing in her ears. "Most people probably wouldn't have been able to block that. You're improving. But you're still far too clumsy with that hammer. Too many unnecessary movements. You're easy to read. How long does that potion last—fifteen minutes?"
"No," Lucas replied, catching his breath. "I asked Macro to increase the duration. When he gave me the new batch, he said each dose would now last a full hour."
"I see..." A slow smile curled across Aislyra's lips, and the moment Lucas saw it, a chill ran down his spine.
"Then brace yourself," she said, her tone suddenly far more menacing than before. "Because for the next hour—whether you like it or not—I'm going to force both your body and your mind to adjust to that form. So I suggest you focus, Your Majesty, unless you want to get really hurt."
As her vision cleared, she lunged forward, moving so fast that Lucas barely managed to track her motion. She closed the distance between them in an instant, her sword arcing toward him. Lucas just barely managed to raise his glowing warhammer in time to block it.
"Now the real lesson begins," Aislyra said with a grin, their weapons locked in a clash of force and light.
An hour had barely passed, and Lucas was now lying flat on the floor of the training hall, gasping for air, his body finally reverting to normal.
"Great job, big sister. In the last ten minutes of our sparring match, your movements with the Light Hammer became much more fluid. With that kind of control, you shouldn't have any problems using the minotaur potion in a real battle. I'm really proud of you," Aislyra said, smiling brightly as she extended a hand to help Lucas up.
"I'm... happy... to... have... met... expectations..." Lucas managed between shallow breaths. He reached for Aislyra's hand, but before he could grasp it, his strength gave out and he fainted from pure exhaustion.
"Really good work," Aislyra said softly, watching her new big sister's peacefully sleeping, satisfied expression.
Nothing particularly noteworthy occurred over the next seven days, but that didn't mean the week had been uneventful. Between preparations for the Tournament of the Golden Trees and the increasingly intense training sessions with Katerina and Aislyra—both magical and physical—Lucas had little time to rest. The pressure of preparing for a battle in which the victor would challenge the queen (himself) left no room for complacency.
Although the Silent Gate hadn't made any further moves, their silence brought no peace. While Lucas felt slightly reassured, the same could not be said for the ministers, Katerina, Aislyra, and Sequoria, all of whom grew more cautious by the day. Suspicion loomed large.
Macro's continued analysis of the chimera's corpse had led to only one meaningful discovery: the creature's stomach contained the remains of animal species found exclusively in the Yggdrasill Forest, suggesting that the beast had been stored or hidden there for some time. Yet, despite a thorough search of the forest, no other evidence had been uncovered.
Today marked the long-anticipated arrival of the hero from Leore. Lucas sat on the royal throne, waiting patiently for his guest to arrive. The entire court was assembled, all ministers present, each of them curious to meet this enigmatic new hero of the neighboring kingdom. The throne room was also more heavily guarded than usual. In addition to the usual guards, the royal knights had joined the security detail—Fortore himself standing close to the throne, upright and watchful.
'Who could this hero be?' Lucas wondered. 'Maybe someone like Alexander the Great? Or a legendary figure like King Arthur... someone whose existence we can't confirm, but who lives on through myth. I can't wait to find out.'
Despite the rising excitement bubbling inside him, Lucas maintained a composed, regal expression—one of the few things his queenly training had helped him master.
He didn't have to wait much longer.
The large doors of the throne room creaked open slightly. One of the guards stationed outside stepped in, bowed respectfully, and announced, "Your Majesty, the hero of Leore and his party have arrived. Shall I let them in?"
Lucas turned toward Sequoria, silently seeking confirmation. When she gave a subtle nod, Lucas responded in his most regal voice:
"Of course. Let them in."
The guard nodded and quickly left to carry out the order.
A few seconds later, the grand doors of the throne room swung open, and one person—followed closely by three others—stepped inside.
The first to catch Lucas's attention among the three followers was a slender elven girl with long, blonde hair streaked with pale green, styled into two flowing ponytails that reached her back. Her outfit resembled that of a ranger—light armor consisting of a breastplate, forearm guards, and knee pads. However, her armor featured light green accents, and numerous medals were pinned to her breastplate. Strapped across her back was an enormous, ornately decorated bow, emerald in color.
She had to be Emeralda, the famed ranger reputed to be the best in the entire kingdom of Yggdora. According to Sequoria, she had been sent to Leore to join the hero's party following the alliance forged between their two kingdoms.
Beside her walked a man who appeared to be in his forties. He was exceptionally short but broad-shouldered and solidly built, with a long, fire-red beard. He wore full heavy armor that covered nearly every part of his body, leaving only his face exposed. Lucas didn't recognize him, but from his appearance alone, he sincerely hoped the man was a classic dwarf, just like in the fantasy stories he knew.
The third companion was a boy who looked to be between eighteen and twenty. He wore clothes that appeared incredibly modern for this world—a black hoodie with the hood pulled up, obscuring most of his face, save for a long tuft of dark brown hair that fell over the right side. The hoodie's zipper was left open, revealing a white T-shirt underneath, and he wore dark gray sweatpants. Lucas blinked at the sight; the boy's fashion felt so jarringly modern, yet none of the others in the room seemed surprised.
'I guess modern fashion isn't that unusual here,' Lucas thought. 'Probably something else a hero brought with them from Earth...'
But he pushed the thought aside, refocusing on the most important figure—the man walking confidently in front of the group.
The hero.
He looked to be in his mid-twenties, with short, neatly styled brown hair touched with natural black highlights. Resting on his head was a laurel crown. His golden-amber eyes held a graceful but commanding presence. He wore an elegant white-and-red tunic made of obviously fine fabric, embroidered with golden patterns. Though the tunic covered his torso, his exposed arms showed that he was clearly in peak physical condition.
The group stopped just under a meter from the throne. Emeralda bowed gracefully in the presence of the queen, while the other three remained upright. The ranger nudged the dwarf, trying to encourage him to bow, while the hero stood composed, watching Lucas—not impolitely, but with measured, respectful interest. Thankfully, his gaze stayed mostly on Lucas's face, unlike Fortore's all-too-frequent distractions.
After a brief silence, Lucas realized it was his turn to speak.
"Thank you, hero of Leore, and to your party, for visiting our kingdom during your journey," Lucas said, his tone calm and regal. "I'd like to ask your name. You see, Fortore... doesn't have the best memory when it comes to names, so he forgot yours when informing us of your arrival."
The man chuckled lightly, then stepped forward with poise.
"No, it is we who thank you for granting us an audience in your radiant presence. I am truly pleased to meet you," he said, his voice refined and elegant. "Since the day I was brought back to lifeinto this world, I have heard many stories about the beautiful and wise elven queen of Yggdora. And I must admit—those tales were no exaggeration. Even in the fifty-five years I lived in my world, during which I met many women of great beauty, very few could compare to yours."
His voice was regal but gentle, carrying both charm and gravity. He gave a courteous nod, then continued.
"But forgive my digression—you asked for my name." The man took a breath, then said, "I am Gaius Julius Caesar. Before I died, I held the title Dictator Perpetuo (dictator for life) of a great nation known as Rome. From what I understand, my former role was not unlike the one you hold in your nation."
He delivered the name with such composure and self-assurance that it took Lucas a moment to register what he'd just heard.
On the surface, Lucas kept his expression carefully controlled. But internally, he was screaming.
'Cesare?! Seriously—that Cesare?!' his mind yelled in disbelief, his thoughts spinning as if he'd been struck by lightning.