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I stood up, dusting the dirt and loose rock off my leather tunic. A wide grin spread across my face.

I had found the Spellsword’s Tomb.

The chamber was dead silent. My faint magical light illuminated the dust motes dancing in the stale air. The walls were lined with decaying weapon racks, the iron long rusted into useless orange flakes.

I walked slowly toward the raised stone dais at the far end of the room.

I didn’t let my guard down. Hidden pieces in this world were never free. In the ga, Ren had to fight a boss to claim this specific reward.

I reached the dais. The sarcophagus was massive, carved from solid black granite. Its lid was covered in intricate, jagged runes that hadn’t faded despite being buried for centuries.

I holstered my shortsword, placed both hands flat against the heavy stone lid, and pushed.

My muscles strained. The sheer weight of the stone was imnse, but my unnaturally high stamina fueled my physical strength. With a loud, grinding screech that echoed painfully in the enclosed chamber, the lid slid back a few inches.

Instantly, the temperature in the room plumted.

A heavy, suffocating wave of killing intent washed over . The faint magical light at my fingertip flickered and died, plunging the chamber back into near darkness, illuminated only by the gray shaft of sunlight from the ceiling.

Clank.

The sound of heavy tal striking stone echoed from the shadows behind the sarcophagus.

I stepped back, drawing my obsidian shortsword in a fluid motion.

A towering figure stepped into the sliver of sunlight. It was a Tomb Guardian. An undead knight clad in tarnished, spiked plate armor. Its helt was shaped like a snarling demon, and hollow eye sockets burned with a sickly, glowing blue fire. In its gauntleted hands, it held a massive, rusted executioner’s sword that radiated a freezing, necrotic aura.

The Guardian didn’t roar or monologue. It just moved.

For a rotting corpse wearing eighty pounds of steel, it was terrifyingly fast. It crossed the distance to the dais in two massive strides, swinging the greatsword in a horizontal arc aid straight at my ribs.

My mind mapped the trajectory of the heavy blade instantly. I dropped to one knee, ducking under the lethal swing. The rusted steel sheared right through the edge of the stone sarcophagus where I had just been standing, sending rock shrapnel flying.

I didn’t retreat. I lunged forward from my crouch, driving my shortsword directly upward into the gap under the Guardian’s armpit.

Clang!

The obsidian blade sparked against chainmail, failing to pierce the magically hardened under-armor.

The Guardian brought the poml of its sword down like a hamr. I twisted my body, taking a glancing blow to the shoulder instead of the skull. The impact sent a numb, jarring shock down my arm, forcing to roll backward across the dusty floor to create distance.

"Tough bastard," I grunted, rolling my shoulder.

The Guardian turned, raising its blade for a vertical execution strike.

Standard magic was useless here. The necrotic aura radiating from its armor would eat through basic elental spells before they even made contact. I needed raw, concussive force.

I sheathed my shortsword. I didn’t need it.

I gathered my mana, forcing it through my defective, knotted circuit. The agonizing friction generated a massive buildup of hyper-dense, vibrating energy. I channeled it entirely into my palms.

The Guardian charged, bringing the greatsword down in a devastating overhead cleave.

I waited until the blade was inches from my face. I stepped sharply to the right, letting the heavy weapon slam into the stone floor. The impact cracked the earth, sending a tremor through the chamber.

Before the Guardian could wrench the blade free from the stone, I closed the gap.

I slamd my left palm against the side of the Guardian’s helt, violently jerking its head to the side to expose the weak point at the neck.

Then, I drove my right palm directly into the exposed joint between the helt and the breastplate.

"Break."

I unleashed the kinetic shockwave directly into its armor.

The blast detonated point-blank. The sound was like a bomb going off in a sealed vault. The concussive force bypassed the external steel entirely, transferring straight into the Guardian’s hollow interior.

The neck joint shattered. The glowing blue fire in the helt flickered wildly.

But the undead didn’t feel pain. It abandoned its stuck sword, lunging forward to wrap its heavy steel gauntlets around my throat.

It lifted off the ground, its grip crushing my windpipe. Black spots danced in my vision. The necrotic cold seeped into my skin, freezing my blood.

I didn’t panic. My hands clamped down on its steel wrists. I dumped every remaining drop of my purified mana from my internal battery straight into my core, generating a massive, volatile surge of friction.

I didn’t channel it into my palms this ti. I channeled it through my entire body.

A violent, explosive ripple of kinetic force blasted outward from my chest.

The shockwave blew the Guardian’s arms completely off its torso. The steel gauntlets shattered around my neck. I hit the ground, coughing violently, sucking in mouthfuls of dusty air.

The Guardian staggered backward, its torso caved in, blue flas spewing from its missing limbs.

I didn’t give it a chance to recover. I kicked off the floor, launching myself at its chest. I drove my knee squarely into the center of its breastplate, riding the montum to slam the massive undead knight into the ground.

I raised my fist, condensed the last bit of ambient mana I could scrape together, and punched straight down through the shattered neck joint into its core.

The blue fire extinguished with a hollow, shrieking hiss. The armor collapsed inward, turning into a pile of lifeless, rusted scrap.

I sat back on the stone floor, my chest heaving, sweat dripping from my chin.

"Fuck," I rasped, rubbing my bruised throat.

The fight was brutal, but the payoff was right in front of .

As the Guardian’s armor dissolved into ash, a small, glowing crimson orb was left floating in the center of the debris. It pulsed like a heartbeat, radiating a warm, heavy power.

This was it. The hidden piece.

I reached out and grabbed the orb. The mont my fingers closed around it, the crimson light flared, sinking directly into my skin and surging up my arm into my chest.

A translucent blue screen materialized in my vision.

[Hidden Piece Acquired: Heart of the Spellsword]

[Integrating...]

[New Passive Trait Unlocked: Kinetic Resonance]

I read the description, a vicious, satisfied smile spreading across my face.

[Trait: Kinetic Resonance]

Description: Your body absorbs and stores the kinetic energy of physical impacts. The stored energy can be instantly converted into mana to fuel spellcasting, or released as explosive physical force. Effect: Drastically increases physical durability. Eliminates chanting ti for close-quarters spells when fueled by absorbed kinetic energy.

It was the ultimate counter to the Knight Departnt. They relied on closing the gap and hitting hard. Now, every ti a Knight struck , they would only be loading my gun.

"You can have the academy glory, Ren," I muttered, pushing myself up from the dusty floor. "I’ll take the real power."

I didn’t bother searching the rest of the tomb. The orb was the only thing of value. I climbed back up the jagged rocks of the sinkhole, pulling myself out into the fading evening light of the Blackwood Ridge.

The trek back through the forest was quiet. The lesser beasts instinctively avoided the residual aura of the Guardian’s core now settling in my chest.

By the ti I reached the outpost town and hired a carriage back to the Academy, the sun had completely set.

My leather tunic was torn, covered in dirt, monster blood, and dust. My body ached, but the new trait thrumming in my veins made feel invincible.

I unlocked the door to my private dorm.

The room was warm, lit by soft magical lamps.

Lily stepped out of the adjoining bathroom, carrying a fluffy white towel. She took one look at my battered, filthy state, and her golden eyes imdiately darkened with a mix of concern and deep, submissive lust. Seeing her master return covered in the blood of his enemies triggered a very primal reaction in her.

"Master," she murmured, quickly walking over to unbuckle my combat harness. "You’re a ss."

"I got what I went for," I replied, letting her strip the filthy leather off my shoulders. "Did Emma co by?"

"Three tis," Lily smirked, unbuttoning my undershirt. "She nearly kicked the door down the second ti. I told her you were deep in ditation and couldn’t be disturbed. She’s waiting in the main parlor downstairs."

"Let her wait a little longer," I said, stepping out of my boots.

I walked completely naked into the bathroom. The massive marble tub was filled to the brim with steaming water, slling faintly of soothing herbs.

"I thought you asked for a cold bath, Master," Lily noted, following inside.

"Plans changed," I grunted, sinking into the hot water. The heat instantly went to work on my sore muscles.

Lily didn’t hesitate. She unbuttoned her maid uniform, letting it fall to the floor, and stepped into the tub behind . She grabbed a sponge and started scrubbing the dried dirt and blood from my back, her heavy, bare breasts pressing slickly against my shoulders.

"You pushed yourself hard today," she whispered, her hands massaging the tight knots in my neck.

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