Vile Evil Hides Under The Veil

Three days before Goddess Sekhmet's annual festival.

Sunhaven. Eldorath kingdom. Joravar Continent. Labh Salem.

Siren's Sanctuary's backyard.

"Big bro, Ren… I… I can't."

Arman spoke with short breaths as he collapsed on the ground, sweat covering his body.

The grip on his spear was on the verge of loosening due to the fatigue settling in his arm muscles.

The intense training session devised by Eren had left him mentally and physically drained.

"You don't have permission to relax yet, boy. Stand up," Eren instructed Arman in a stern voice, delivering a swift slash in his direction.

The attack carried a light mana density but possessed an extraordinary Weapon Intent. It left a deep mark on the ground just below Arman's feet, prompting him to quickly retract his legs in fear.

Arman believed that, had he been a moment slower, his toes would have been severed from the rest of his legs.

Eren chuckled as he saw a hint of fear on Arman's face. It was as if he was playing a cat-and-mouse game with the teen in front of him. The butcher always liked bullying the weak in his leisure time.

As someone who had assumed the identity of Ren Roman Idril, Eren stood on the training grounds, his emerald-green eyes focused and attentive as he held a simple wooden sword in his hand.

Clad in a loose-fitted white tunic that allowed for unrestricted movement, he paired it with black pants that complemented his casual yet purposeful look.

His shoulder-length hair, a rich blackish-brown with a hint of red sheen, framed his face in a carefree manner. The strands moved freely with each motion, adding a touch of unconventionality to his appearance. Eren opted for a laid-back sparring session with Arman, choosing not to burden himself with armor or arm bracers.

Barefoot on the training grounds, Eren's choice of attire reflected his relaxed approach. The absence of shoes and protective gear highlighted his confidence, relying on his agility and skill rather than encumbering himself with unnecessary accessories.

Despite the casual demeanor, his emerald gaze held a keen intensity, ready to respond to every move in the training session.

"I… I don't understand. I'm a potion-maker. Why should I learn Battle Arts?"

Arman expressed his frustration. Rising to his feet with dissatisfaction simmering within him, he tightened his grip on the spear, ready for another round of dueling with Eren.

While he obediently followed Eren's commands, it was evident that he did not find as much enjoyment in their sparring sessions as he did in Eren's guidance on potion-making.

"In a Ranker's life, everything is connected, and every experience can be synthesized into concoctions," Eren explained casually as he approached Arman once again. "How can you create effective potions for your customers if you don't understand the challenges they face in their daily lives?" he questioned, sighing as he observed Arman.

To Arman, Eren seemed to have openings in his defense. However, after numerous sparring sessions, Arman had learned valuable lessons. He instinctively knew when to play defensively and when to launch an attack against Eren.

"Young man, your Ace Rank was achieved through the use of potions for the most part. Of course, your talent also had a hand to play in it but let's not talk about that for now.

Most importantly, your Raak lacks the solid foundation you need to progress further in your Ranking Journey," Eren took another step forward, raising his weapon as he continued guiding Arman.

"Battles and moments of crisis are precisely what you need to fortify your advancements. This holds true regardless of whether you are a potion-maker or not.

Now brace yourself. Attack from your right is incoming."

Blitz. Swoosh. Clang.

Eren refrained from employing any mana. There was no need. His Stats had been enhanced by Tantra bonuses, elevating his physical capabilities to an entirely new level.

Even when he deliberately suppressed his Ranking Status to that of a late-stage Ace Rank, the strength, agility, and speed bestowed by the Tantra, specifically tailored to fortify the body, couldn't be subdued beyond a certain extent. In fact, he was trying his best to limit his own strength as much as he could.

One could say that he was even training to control his instincts that internally screamed to butcher his sparring partner up from time to time. He couldn't do this with such precision when he was in LA, sparring with Renita, Ken, Ramy, and others. As such, it could be said that the butcher was learning and growing differently.

"Aaaaaah!"

Arman unleashed what he intended as a battle cry but sounded more like a pampered teen throwing tantrums. He wielded his spear, attempting to deflect every slash and jab Eren directed at him. Parrying and dodging, attacking and retreating, Arman found himself nearing his limits after a certain amount of time.

"Teach… Teacher. I… I'm a potioner. Can… Can I at least make use of my potions?"

Arman asked Eren mid-battle, his face adorned with droplets of sweat, his voice fatigued, and his eyes pleading for some respite. Eren chuckled before countering with another question.

"Keke. I'm a potioner too, young man. Should I use MY potions to fight you? I can even wield a real sword instead of this wooden practice weapon. Are you okay with that as well?"

Eren's inquiry further drained the color from Arman's already downcast face. He fell silent and continued his duel with Eren.

Arman had witnessed Eren's mastery in crafting ethereal potions out of thin air, deploying them strategically to debuff opponents at will. He had experienced firsthand the potency of Eren's potion usage.

Fearful of feeling powerless and vulnerable while battling a relentless teacher like Eren, who wouldn't hesitate to exploit any weakness, Arman preferred not to entertain the idea of confronting him with real weapons.

Besides, Eren wielded an edgeless wooden sword. If he were to switch to real weapons, Arman was certain that his body would already bear severe injuries, courtesy of the formidable Weapon Intent alone.

"Teacher… you… you are not a potioner, are you?"

Arman inquired, attempting to catch his breath midway as they both created a safe distance from each other. Eren allowed Arman intermittent moments of respite whenever he sensed the latter was on the verge of exhaustion.

Contrary to pity or understanding, Arman had discerned that Eren provided these breaks to prolong their duels for hours. After all, Arman's suffering would come to an abrupt end if he lost consciousness mid-battle.

"Stop calling me teacher. And why do you say that? What am I if not a potioner?"

Eren raised his eyebrows, gripping his wooden sword and holding it up in front of him for inspection. This particular sword was reserved solely for dueling with Arman. It absorbed Eren's Individuality as he continued to wield it, prompting him to consider replacing it before it posed a genuine threat to Arman.

"Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about," Arman replied, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm sleeves.

"Thanks to working in Siren's Sanctuary ever since it opened here, I've met quite a few potioners here in Sunhaven. I can tell you are not one of them. You can't just be a potioner. You… you are something more."

Once a scrawny youth from the rural outskirts, Arman had undergone a noticeable metamorphosis. His muscles, once underdeveloped, now bulged with strength and definition, a testament to his dedication to follow Eren's orders despite the lack of enthusiasm in training.

Sweat glistened on Arman's forehead, his teal-colored eyes sparkling with determination. Clad in training attire that clung to his redefined physique, he showcased a newfound confidence. The sleeves of his shirt were pushed up, revealing arms that flexed with each deliberate movement.

Despite the fatigue evident in his body, his spirit was resilient. With each strike and parry, Arman displayed a growing proficiency in battle, a far cry from the inexperienced youth he once was.

As he readied himself for the next round, Arman's posture exuded strength. His movements, fueled by E-Rank mana, conveyed a newfound power that complemented his transformed physique. Nobody outside Sunhaven would believe that he was a potion-maker after being in his presence once.

The once unremarkable lad from the countryside had evolved into a formidable young man, embracing the challenges of combat under Eren's tutelage.

'Keke. This brat is slowly catching up.'

Eren responded to Arman's question with a smile.

Without uttering a word, he gestured for Arman to launch an attack.

"In case you… you forgot… you and I are both in the same Rank, teacher. Soon, I'll catch up and make you regret the hellish training you put me through."

Strangely, Arman found himself enjoying the physical strain Eren imposed on him, as his body produced an increasing amount of adrenaline and other battle-friendly "concoctions" on its own.

"Aaaaah! Here I come!"

Arman screamed, activating his movement-type Skill and swiftly closing the distance between himself and Eren. He prepared to unleash a powerful strike, while Eren anticipated it with a casual demeanor, wearing a subtle smile.

However, in a fraction of a second, Eren's expression shifted. The smile vanished, replaced by a serious and cold gaze, as a sudden notification appeared before him.

[ One of your pseudo-avatars is being attacked. The health of the avatar has dropped below 50%. The attacker's name is Nira Nightshade. The pseudo-avatar is being surrounded.

Proceed to take over the pseudo-avatar's consciousness? ]

===

AN: Nira Nightshade was mentioned for the first time in chapter 60 and later reappeared in chapter 1065. Eren engaged in a confrontation with her apparition in chapter 1087, marking her as an enemy officially in chapter 1090.

VEH punches in 1800 chapters with this release. Heartfelt gratitude to all the readers and a special acknowledgment to our top contributors. Thanks and stay tuned. ;)

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