Magic Workwear, a form of close combat magic renowned for its ability to amplify the user's speed and strength, . If mastered, the technique could make one person as powerful as three skilled warriors. It was a technique that gathered the magic power from the entire body into the heart, charging the body with magic power that surged from the heart to every corner of the body in an instant. Alexander swallowed hard, if he truly mastered this art, he would never be so passive in a duel again.
"Don't look so shocked. It's not that easy," came Lira's voice from across the room, her tone teasing yet serious. "Magic Workwear doesn't require much magic, but it does demand a lot from your body. The magic power will rush through your circuits like a torrential flood."
She paused for a moment, her eyes teasingly traveling up and down Alexander's form."Looking at your thin arms and legs, if you use it recklessly, you'll break your own muscles before you ever get to your opponent."
Lira's words were like a cold splash of water, instantly dousing the fire of excitement that had ignited in Alexander's chest. He frowned, realizing how unprepared he was physically for such an intense technique.
"Oh? Are you underestimating me?" Alexander raised an eyebrow, flashing a playful grin as he stepped toward Lira. He reached out to pull her into his arms, and after some gentle teasing and shared affection, he held her close. "Lira, how do I increase my physical strength?"
Lira sighed contentedly as she rested in his embrace, her fingers tracing light patterns on his chest. "Generally speaking, ordinary training and exercise can definitely improve your physical strength." she said, her voice light and teasing. "But if you're looking for faster results, you'll need some external stimulation." She smiled mischievously, her eyes narrowing slightly with a glint of wicked intent. "And I mean... *real* external stimulation."
Alexander raised an eyebrow, sensing a trap in her words. "What kind of... stimulation?" he asked, his voice cautious. He had learned not to trust that smile of hers when it came to things like this.
Lira smiled wickedly, leaning back to look at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You'll have to be beaten. And beaten hard," she said, laughing darkly. "The tougher the beating, the stronger you'll get! "
Alexander stared at her, taken aback by her suggestion, but before he could respond, Lira's laughter filled the room.
"Still laughing, huh? I'll spank you first!" he said, recovering from the shock. Without warning, he smacked Lira lightly on her rear, eliciting another giggle from her as she wiggled free. "Ouch! Hahaha!"
...
In the early morning, a thin white mist enveloped the top of the mountain, lingering like a ghostly shroud. The breeze brought with it a steady thudding sound—the unmistakable noise of a body being hit, again and again.
In the center of the grove, Alexander stood firm, his feet rooted in the soil like the trees surrounding him. His naked torso glistened with sweat, each muscle in his body tensed and coiled, bracing for the next strike. His chest heaved with labored breaths, and cold sweat trickled down his face, mixing with the blood and bruises already forming on his torso.
The guardian of this level in physical training, an ancient instructor conjured by magic, sat cross-legged on a nearby boulder. Its form was humanoid but draped in a faint aura of red light, its features obscured. With a wave of its hand, a thin bolt of magic shot forward. The light red energy snaked through the air like a whip, snapping against Alexander's bare back with a loud crack that left a long, blue bruise across his back.
Alexander clenched his jaw, refusing to cry out, but the pain was searing. His body trembled under the force of the blow, his legs nearly buckling as the magic raced through his circuits, inflaming his already burning muscles. Every strike forced his magic to flow faster, filling his limbs with newfound energy. Slowly, warmth seeped into his muscles, strengthening them bit by bit.
"Come again!" Alexander demanded through gritted teeth as the pain in his back gradually receded.
"Bang!" Another bolt of magic shot toward him, its impact sending a ripple of pain through his body. This time, the strike hit harder, and Alexander's body finally gave out. His knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground, his arms limp at his sides.The guardian, seeing that Alexander had reached his limit, dissipated into the air, leaving Alexander lying on the ground, panting heavily.
Lira, who had been watching from the sidelines, hurried to Alexander's side, helping him up and taking out a pink crystal. Then she pressed it to his chest, the pink energy entered Alexander's body like a stream, nourishing his limbs and bringing him a sense of ecstasy that made him take several deep, relieved breaths.
After a few minutes, Alexander opened his eyes, blinking up at the sky above. He groaned as he shifted, feeling the cool air against his still-aching bruises. Then he lay down skillfully on a clean, cool blanket. The fabric's cool touch on his bruises naturally made Alexander hiss in pain.
"Hiss—" Alexander winced as the pain flared again, though this time it was less severe.
Lira knelt beside him, her eyes filled with a mixture of concern and pride. Over the past week, Alexander had shown more resilience that than she expected. At this rate, he would be ready to master Magic Workwear in less than two days. As for why he was not expelled to the ancient battlefield immediately, well, the power of the nobles was beyond ordinary comprehension.
Then she pulled out a jar of healing ointment, her cool hands moving with practiced ease as she began applying the ointment to his bruised and battered body. As the ointment soothed his muscles, Alexander closed his eyes, let out a low, relieved sigh, and allowed himself to relax.
The softness of the blanket beneath him, combined with Lira's cool touch, lulled him into a state of near contentment, lulling him into a peaceful slumber. Lira watched as Alexander's breathing slowed and steadied, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips, then she fell into memories.
In the quiet of Seraphine's chambers, the air was heavy with unspoken tension. The room was dimly lit, the flickering candles casting dancing shadows on the walls. Mistress Seraphine sat lazily on a plush sofa, her posture one of casual elegance. Her high-slit skirt revealed her delicate and slender legs, a stark contrast to the stern expression on her face. She regarded Lira with a scrutinizing look, her words cutting through the silence like a knife.
"Lira, you did a good job this time. You didn't let Alexander fall into the hands of others," she began, her voice smooth yet laden with an undercurrent of warning. "But has your feelings for Alexander deviated from the planned plan?"