Chapter 119: Sparring?

"Morning, baby!" Snow chirped, crossing the room and dropping a heavy, leather-wrapped canteen onto the bedside table. "I went down to the mana-waterfall and filled this up. The water in this valley is incredible; it literally tingles when you drink it."

"Good morning, Snow," Leon replied, a faint, genuine warmth softening the icy blue and golden light of his eyes. He reached out, wrapping a hand around her waist and pulling her gently toward the edge of the bed.

Snow went willingly, leaning down to press a fierce, lingering kiss against his lips. She tasted like crisp morning air and sweet Sun Apples.

"You’re up early," Snow noted, pulling back just enough to look at him, her hands resting comfortably on his broad, bare shoulders. "I didn’t want to wake you. You were out hunting all afternoon yesterday while I was slaving away at the new forge. You needed the rest."

"My aura regulates my sleep cycle," Leon reminded her smoothly, referring to his Perfect Body Talent. "I don’t need sleep to achieve full physical recovery. I was just reviewing the new talents I acquired from yesterday’s excursion."

"Ooh, new talents? You’ll have to show me later," Snow grinned, her blue eyes sparking with competitive fire. She pushed herself back up, putting a few feet of distance between them, and placed her hands firmly on her hips. "But right now, baby, we have a very serious matter to discuss."

Leon raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. "I am listening."

"We are married. We live together. We sleep together," Snow began, her tone shifting into a focused cadence. "We are intimately synced on a personal level. But out there? In the canyons and the forests?" She pointed a black-gloved finger toward the window. "We are fighting partners. And right now, our combat synergy is heavily reliant on raw stats rather than actual, practiced teamwork."

Leon nodded slowly. She was absolutely correct. During the fight with the Iron-Spine Ursas, they hadn’t fought together; they had simply split the canyon in half and fought two separate, isolated battles. Against Level 50 Adept monsters, brute force was sufficient. But when they eventually breached Sector 11 and faced Level 100 and above Steadfast entities, disjointed attacks would lead to fatal counter-strikes.

"What do you propose?" Leon asked, already knowing where this was going.

"We need to spar. Hard," Snow declared, a wild, exhilarating smile breaking across her face. "I’m talking full-contact, no-holding-back combat drills. At least three times a day. Morning, noon, and night. I need to know exactly how fast you move when you trigger your spatial rifts. You need to know the exact arc and reach of my buster sword so you don’t accidentally step into my swing. If I’m going to be fighting beside a god, I need to learn how to dance with one."

"You want to spar with me?" Leon asked, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. "Snow, I am a Level 100 Steadfast entity. My base Agility is currently sitting at 265. If I swing Epitaph at you, even lightly, the kinetic shockwave could shatter your ribs."

"Don’t patronize me, baby," Snow shot back, entirely undeterred. She puffed out her chest, her competitive pride flaring. "I’m Level 48. I have an SS-Rank talent that lets me scale my weapons to Level 72. I’m a five-time national champion. I know how to parry, I know how to redirect momentum, and I know how to take a hit. I mainly want pure, mechanical blade work. I want to sync our footwork."

Leon stood up from the bed, his tall, imposing frame towering over her. He looked down into her fierce, determined blue eyes. She didn’t want to be carried through Eternal Heaven. She wanted to earn her place at his side.

"Three times a day," Leon agreed, a predatory smirk touching his lips. "But I warn you, Snow. I won’t go easy on you. If you drop your guard, you will find yourself in the dirt."

"Promises, promises," Snow winked, her excitement completely overriding any apprehension.

She spun on her heel and marched toward the bedroom door. "Get dressed! I’ll meet you out back by the waterfall clearing in five minutes. And don’t bring that terrifying new axe. Bring a standard blade so we can actually cross swords without you detonating the atmosphere!"

Ten minutes later, the air in the estate’s secluded backyard was thick with the rushing, rhythmic roar of the glowing blue mana-waterfall. The crystalline trees surrounding the clearing cast long, glittering shadows across the vibrant green grass.

Leon stood in the center of the clearing, clad in his dark, gold-embroidered draconic garb. He did not summon the Mythic Blade of the Dragon God, nor did he pull the Legendary Epitaph from his inventory.

Instead, he held a sleek, beautifully forged longsword made of standard, high-density void-steel—one of the perfectly balanced, non-magical weapons Snow had crafted for him earlier that morning using a forging skill she had comprehended during her early days at Eternal Heaven.

He held the blade loosely in his right hand, his stance relaxed, his breathing perfectly synced with the crashing water behind him.

Snow stood thirty feet away, her heavy white fur coat discarded on the porch rail to allow for maximum mobility. She gripped the hilt of a similarly forged void-steel greatsword. It wasn’t the massive, unwieldy Legendary buster sword she usually favored, but a slightly lighter, faster variant designed specifically for high-speed dueling.

She rolled her shoulders, her black leather boots shifting expertly against the grass as she dropped into a flawless, textbook martial arts guard. Her blue eyes were narrowed, entirely stripped of their usual playful warmth, replaced by the cold, hyper-focused intensity of a seasoned fighter analyzing her opponent’s center of gravity.

She raised the greatsword, the dark metal glinting in the pale magenta sunlight.

With a sudden, fluid motion, Snow flicked her wrist and violently threw a secondary, smaller short-sword directly at Leon’s chest.

The blade spun end-over-end, a deadly silver blur cutting through the air.

Leon didn’t flinch. He didn’t activate Phantom Shift or Abyssal Stride. He simply raised his own void-steel longsword and smoothly batted the incoming projectile aside with the flat of his blade. The short-sword deflected harmlessly, embedding itself deep into the trunk of a nearby crystalline tree with a sharp thwack.

Snow didn’t wait to see the result of the throw. The moment the short-sword had left her hand, she exploded into motion, launching herself across the grass with terrifying speed, her heavy greatsword pulled back for a devastating, two-handed diagonal cleave.

A wide, exhilarated grin stretched across her face as she closed the distance.

"Ready when you are, baby!" Snow shouted over the roar of the waterfall, bringing the massive blade down with everything she had.