The Hellish Training and the Upcoming Raid
The sun had barely risen over the Asakura estate when Renji dragged himself to the training grounds, his muscles aching from the relentless drills of the past few days. He had been through hell, and the one responsible stood before him—Evelyn Frostbane, the terrifying knight instructor who had single-handedly transformed his daily life into a cycle of exhaustion and pain.
His body protested every movement, but he knew better than to complain. Complaining to Evelyn was a death sentence in itself.
"You're late," Evelyn stated, though Renji swore he had arrived even before the servants began their morning routines. Her piercing blue eyes bore into him, as if daring him to make an excuse.
He swallowed his frustration. "I'm here, aren't I?"
She smirked, tossing him a wooden training sword. "Then get ready. We're doubling your training today."
Renji wanted to groan, but he held it in. Instead, he took his stance, gripping the wooden sword tightly as Evelyn circled him like a predator analyzing its prey.
The Training from Hell
The first thing Evelyn did was destroy any illusion Renji had about his sword skills.
"Your footwork is too rigid. Your grip is too weak. Your swings are predictable," she criticized, each statement punctuated by a brutal correction—usually in the form of a swift strike that left him breathless.
From sunrise to sunset, she drilled him relentlessly. At first, it was just repetitions—swinging his sword a thousand times, footwork drills until his legs felt like lead, reflex training that involved her attacking him at random moments. But Evelyn wasn't just tormenting him for the sake of it—there was a method to her madness.
And Renji, to his own surprise, was improving.
After three days, his sword swings became sharper, his footwork more fluid. He no longer hesitated when countering. His breathing remained steady even after hours of practice. His body, though aching, was adapting at an incredible rate.
That didn't mean Evelyn went easy on him. If anything, she pushed him harder.
"Again," she ordered, as he collapsed onto the dirt, gasping for air.
"Evelyn, I'm pretty sure I died five minutes ago," he groaned.
"Then I'll train your corpse. Get up."
He forced himself to stand, sweat pouring down his face. Every inch of him screamed for rest, but he refused to give up. Because no matter how harsh Evelyn was, he knew one thing—this training was working.
Sparring Against Evelyn
On the fourth day, Evelyn changed the routine.
"You're improving," she admitted. "But knowing how to swing a sword means nothing if you can't land a hit."
Renji blinked. "Wait, does that mean—"
Before he could finish, Evelyn lunged at him.
He barely had time to block as her wooden sword crashed against his, sending vibrations up his arms. The sheer force of the blow nearly knocked him off balance.
"Come at me," she ordered.
Renji hesitated. This woman was leagues above him. But he knew there was no escaping. Taking a deep breath, he adjusted his grip and attacked.
His strikes were fast, precise—but Evelyn deflected every single one with ease. She barely moved, her expression calm as she read his movements like an open book. Then, in a blur, she countered, slamming the hilt of her sword against his stomach.
Renji choked as the air was knocked out of him.
"Too predictable," she said flatly. "Again."
And so, they fought.
Each day, Renji sparred against Evelyn, and each day, he lost miserably. No matter what he tried, she always countered in ways that left him stunned. Even when he thought he had an opening, she would do something completely unexpected—like switching her stance at the last second or using the environment to her advantage.
The worst part? She never explained how she beat him. She expected him to figure it out himself.
The Breakthrough
By the seventh day, Renji was at his limit. His body was battered, his reflexes numb. But his mind was sharper than ever.
As they faced off in another spar, he watched Evelyn's movements carefully. She was fast—too fast for him to beat in a direct clash. He needed something different.
Then it hit him.
She expects me to fight her like a swordsman.
So he didn't.
Instead of attacking in a straight line, he faked a stumble mid-step, making it seem like he was off balance. Evelyn, expecting an easy counter, moved in to strike.
That was his moment.
Renji twisted his body at an awkward angle, swinging his sword in a completely unpredictable motion.
For the first time, he saw a flicker of surprise in Evelyn's eyes.
His wooden sword struck her shoulder. A clean hit.
The training grounds went silent. The knights who had been watching stood frozen, as if they couldn't believe what just happened.
Renji, panting, stared at his sword. Did I just… hit Evelyn Frostbane?
Evelyn touched her shoulder, then smirked. "Interesting."
She turned to him, her blue eyes sharp with newfound interest. "You've impressed me, Renji Asakura."
A wave of relief washed over him—until her next words shattered it.
"Be at the front gate tomorrow evening. We're raiding the Nightshade Forest. You'll be fighting real enemies this time."
Renji froze.
Nightshade Forest?
His blood ran cold. Memories from the game came flooding back. This was a hero quest.
In the original story, the hero Leon Brightwind was supposed to go on this mission with Evelyn. They hunted powerful beasts together, and Evelyn became impressed by his skills and potential. That was when she first developed feelings for him.
And now, he was going instead.
Renji's mind went blank. "Oh, fuck."
Evelyn raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"
He quickly composed himself. "Nope. Just… mentally preparing for tomorrow."
She nodded. "Good. You'll need it."
As Evelyn walked away, Renji clenched his fists. This was bad.
Not only was he stepping into Leon's role, but this was also one of the game's early difficulty spikes. Nightshade Forest was filled with dangerous creatures, some even above his current level. Leon barely survived in the original story—how the hell was he supposed to make it through?
Renji exhaled. No use panicking now. He had one night to prepare.
As he made his way back to his room, one thought lingered in his mind.
I am absolutely doomed.