The Voidshadow sports car, which he had once guided with effortless thought, now felt like a powerful beast he was barely managing to control.
His body, no longer burdened by the harsh labor of the radish fields but still shackled by the power-suppressing manacles, felt both drained and oddly strong.
He ran a quick ntal check of his status.
A month of exhausting labor and the mysterious effects of the ginseng-soap had reforged him.
His base physical attributes, even in his sealed state, had skyrocketed.
He estimated that his raw physical power was now equivalent to that of a Level 8 Awakened.
It was a staggering improvent, a testant to the Principal’s strange but effective training thods.
He had gone from being weaker than an ordinary person to possessing the strength of a competent academy student, all without using a single bit of his SSS-Rank talent.
Still, he longed for the mont the seals would be broken, when he could feel his true, overwhelming power again.
As he quietly pulled into the private hangar of his lavish villa, a wave of relief swept over him.
At last, he was ho. With a grunt, he pushed open the heavy gull-wing door and stepped into the expansive living area, his thoughts already shifting to his next goal: the Western Mine and the ice-type chalcedony.
The sight that greeted him, however, made his brain co to a screeching halt.
Lia, Ayra, and Olenna lounged comfortably on the large, plush sofas.
They were clearly in the middle of a relaxing afternoon, and their choice of attire reflected the villa’s comfortable privacy.
Olenna was lounging in a short, silk robe that did little to hide the elegant lines of her body.
Lia wore a simple, light sundress that seed to float around her serene form.
And Ayra... Ayra was in a sports bra and a pair of ridiculously short training shorts, her powerful, granite-like muscles on full display.
A deck of cards was scattered across the low table between them, suggesting a recently abandoned ga.
They all looked up as he entered, their expressions a mixture of surprise and... sothing else.
A flicker of alarm, perhaps, at his unexpected return.
"Daniel! You’re back!" Lia exclaid, a faint blush touching her cheeks as she quickly pulled a nearby throw blanket over her legs.
She was the first to react, her natural modesty taking over.
"Vance! Didn’t expect you back so soon!"
Ayra grunted, her own face flushing slightly. She quickly grabbed a large cushion and held it awkwardly in her lap.
"We were just, uh... doing so very important... tactical relaxation."
Olenna, ever the master of composure, simply raised an elegant eyebrow, a slow, amused smile spreading across her lips.
"Welco ho, Captain," she whispered, making no move to cover herself.
"Did you have a productive month of... communing with nature?"
Daniel just stood there for a long, silent mont, his mind trying to reboot.
"I... uh... yes," he finally managed, his gaze darting awkwardly away from the scene. "Very productive. Lots of... nature."
Ayra, the most straightforward and, in her own way, the most obsessed with cultivation, was the first to break the initial awkwardness.
She jumped to her feet, her curiosity overriding her embarrassnt.
"So? Tell us! What was it like? The Principal’s special training! Did you fight ancient beasts?
Did you learn so secret, world-shattering technique? Did you have to punch a mountain until it apologized?"
She bounced on the balls of her feet, her eyes shining with eager excitent.
"Sothing like that," Daniel said evasively, his gaze still fixed on a particularly interesting spot on the ceiling.
He couldn’t help but notice Ayra’s revealing outfit. Her athletic build, shaped by her S-Grade Berserker talent and now her Rock Pugilist class, was both striking and distracting.
He could feel his own face starting to heat up.
"Ayra," he said, his voice coming out a little strangled.
"Could you... maybe... put on a bit more... armor? It’s hard to have a serious conversation about top-secret cultivation thods when you’re dressed for a beach party."
Ayra looked down at herself, then back at Daniel, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.
"What, this old thing? Don’t tell you’re getting shy now, Vance. After all, you’ve seen more of than just a training outfit"
Daniel’s face went from warm to outright crimson.
He coughed, trying to regain so semblance of his usual calm authority. "Just... put on a robe or sothing. Please."
With a dramatic sigh, Ayra relented, pulling on a large, fluffy bathrobe.
"Fine, fine. You’re no fun. Now, spill. What did the old man make you do?"
Daniel took a deep breath, the imdiate danger of his own awkwardness having passed.
"It was the first stage of four," he explained, his voice now steady. "A full month of what the Principal calls ’foundation tempering’."
Lia leaned forward, intrigued. "Four stages? A month for just the first? Daniel, that’s an incredibly intensive regin."
"That’s not all," Daniel continued, his expression turning grim.
He raised his wrists, the heavy, dark tal of the Strength-Sealing Manacles clanking softly.
"He sealed my power. All of it. My attributes, my skills, my class abilities... everything.
For the entire month, I was as weak as an ordinary, un-Awakened person. Maybe even weaker, because of the weight of these things."
A stunned silence fell over the room. The girls stared at the manacles on his wrists and ankles, their expressions shifting from curiosity to shock.
They had all felt the oppressive weight of the Verge, the constant threat of death. The thought of facing that world without their powers, without their talents, was a terrifying prospect.
"He... he sealed you?" Lia whispered, her calm grey eyes wide with a mixture of horror and profound sympathy.
"Daniel, that’s... that’s incredibly dangerous! To be so vulnerable in a place like this..."
Olenna looked at him with a new, deep respect. She understood now. The quiet confidence he carried wasn’t just arrogance born of imnse power. It was forged in the fires of true hardship.
Ayra, however, had a very different reaction.
Her initial shock quickly faded, replaced by a slow, dangerous, and utterly mischievous glint in her fiery eyes.
She glanced at the heavy manacles on Daniel’s wrists, then at his now athletic—but no longer superhuman physique.
She rembered the spirited discussion in the training field, the way he had so easily matched her most powerful attacks.
She rembered the humiliating incident in the bathroom, where he had so effortlessly overpowered her.
But now... now his strength was sealed. He was weaker than her. Much, much weaker.
"So, your strength is really, truly gone?" Ayra asked, her voice deceptively sweet, an innocent-sounding question that was anything but.
"You’re just... a normal guy right now?"
Daniel, still focused on explaining the rigors of his training, nodded.
"Essentially, yes. My physical strength is probably around Level 5 or so now, but that’s nothing compared to you three. I have to rely entirely on technique and..."
He trailed off, finally noticing the strange, predatory light dancing in Ayra’s eyes.
A cold, sinking feeling began to spread through his stomach.
He had made a terrible, terrible mistake. He had let his guard down. And he had just told a vengeful, S-Grade Rock Pugilist that he was, for the mont, completely and utterly helpless.
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