Re: In My Bloody Hit Novel

Even though Emma had expected something to happen between them, nothing did.

She had thought that perhaps, since they were posing as husband and wife, they would at least share the same bed—maybe even just for comfort.

But, as was Chiron's tradition, the moment they entered the room, he destroyed the bed with a single wave of his hand, reducing it to ash.

There was nowhere for either of them to sleep.

Emma's brows furrowed slightly in disappointment, but she did not complain.

After all, Chiron's word and ways were law in her heart.

Chiron sat cross-legged on the floor, immediately slipping into meditation.

Emma, seated not too far away, watched him in silence.

She couldn't help but admire him.

Every moment he had for rest, he used for growth instead.

At this point, she was confident in saying—

Chiron of yesterday could never defeat Chiron of today.

It was simply not possible.

He was in a constant state of evolution—always sharpening himself, always reaching for greater heights.

And she was right.

But what she did not know was that right now, inside Chiron's mind, he was locked in battle.

Before him stood holographic projections of the Demi-Gods and Gold Rankers he had fought against during the Heaven Tribulation event with Manu.

Each one was a formidable opponent he had once faced in real combat.

And now, he fought against them again—but with only his own power.

No borrowed strength.

No external advantages.

Just raw skill and mastery.

And the most terrifying part?

Chiron was using one of the rooms with slowed time.

One hour in the outside world was a full month in this space.

All he did was practice.

Over and over again.

An endless cycle of training, refining, and perfecting his skills.

Within the training space, Chiron stood surrounded.

Before him, six powerful opponents loomed—each one a terrifying projection of warriors he had fought in the past.

Each one wielded treasures that enhanced their power. Divine artifacts, enchanted weapons, and cursed relics—tools that made their already monstrous strength even greater.

Their combined presence shook the very foundation of the space, their attacks like rolling storms, crashing down on Chiron with merciless force.

And yet—

He persisted.

Even as he was forced back, even as the weight of their combined might threatened to crush him, he did not yield.

DEVIL'S TOUCH

At the moment, the sword in his grasp—Devil's Touch—moved like red liquid, twisting and reforming as though it were alive.

It reshaped itself into a long sword with jaw-like serrated edges, resembling a beast hungry for flesh.

Every swing carried an eerie, predatory aura.

Chiron came from a sword clan.

The blade was a part of him.

It could not be separated from his existence.

And so, he used sword techniques that had been ingrained in his very soul.

Phantom Severance – His blade vanished from sight, only for his enemy to feel the sharp edge reappear in a place they could not predict. A strike that ignored distance.

Cascading Hell – A rapid barrage of sword slashes, layered on top of each other like a tidal wave, each one following the wake of the last—until the opponent drowned in a sea of relentless cuts.

Demon's Maw – A downward cleave that made Devil's Touch open like a set of jaws, biting into the enemy's very life force rather than just their flesh.

But it wasn't just the sword that defined him.

Chiron had long since incorporated movement techniques into his fighting prowess.

Among them, one of his most deceptive and deadly—

Mirror Flow – A technique that allowed him to temporarily copy his opponent's movement technique during battle.

It was not true replication.

Rather, in the heat of battle, he could match their pace, rhythm, and evasions, adapting their footwork and flow as if he had spent years mastering it himself.

With this, even enemies who relied on unpredictable movement found themselves mirrored, their greatest advantage stolen.

His mastery over blood control had also reached a new height.

He could now extend his own blood out of his body, shaping it into projectiles—razor-thin spears that could pierce even spiritual defenses.

At the same time, his Death Aura remained active, allowing him to seamlessly fade through the aura of the dead that lingered on the battlefield.

He became an untouchable phantom, slipping between attacks, weaving through the flow of battle like a shadow walking through mist.

DEFEAT

And yet—

Even with all of these great achievements—

Even with a blade that devoured life, a movement technique that stole mastery, and an aura that blurred the boundary between life and death—

He lost.

Brutally.

Not once. Not twice.

But every single time.

No matter how much he fought, he could not last more than an hour against them.

They broke him.

Over and over again.

But rather than despair—

He welcomed it.

As the battle ended, Chiron sat in silence, his body still burning with the echoes of combat.

He did not feel frustration at his defeat.

Instead, he analyzed every moment, every mistake, every inefficiency.

He had access to the System—a treasure trove of incredible techniques.

And yet…

Mastery was still lacking.

Not because he couldn't learn, but because he deliberately chose the most complex and powerful techniques.

Techniques that had the most room for growth, rather than simple, easy-to-master ones.

It was a gamble—one that made his battles difficult now, but would grant him overwhelming power in the future.

As he sat there, reviewing his battle, he noticed something.

He was starting to view battles differently.

It no longer felt like just a fight for survival or victory.

It felt more like an extension of his will—as though he were crafting a masterpiece, sculpting combat itself into something greater.

Something complete.

A battle breakthrough was near.

He could feel it.

His eyes suddenly lifted as he turned in a particular direction.

There—

The holographic image of The Uncrowned Clown stood waiting.

That damned opponent who had bullied him in their last encounter.

A true monster among warriors.

Chiron's next training session would be with him.

But not now.

For now, he had something else to deal with.

It was already evening in the real world.

The soft glow of twilight spilled through the windows.

It was time to begin his investigation.

Chiron knew that if there was one place in a town where all information gathered…

It was the tavern.

He suddenly turned to Emma, his voice smooth yet unreadable.

"Would you like to have a drink with me?"