God's Tree-Chapter 108: Blades in the Night

The fire had burned low, leaving only embers to glow against the dark. The rich scent of roasted war beast meat still lingered in the air, but the feast was over.

Kaelred stretched his arms behind his head, letting out a content sigh. "I think that was the best meal I've ever had."

Argolaith smirked, wiping his hands on a cloth. "You'd be a fool to argue otherwise."

Malakar, however, remained silent, his violet gaze fixed on the surrounding trees.

Kaelred narrowed his eyes. "You're thinking about something."

Malakar tilted his head slightly, then said, "You are too slow."

Kaelred blinked. "What?"

Malakar turned to face them fully. "Your movements. Your techniques. They are riddled with inefficiencies." His gaze flicked toward Argolaith. "And yours are too predictable."

Kaelred scowled. "We just ate. Let us live a little before you start insulting us."

Malakar ignored him. "I will train you both. If you wish to survive what lies ahead, you need to be better."

Kaelred exchanged a glance with Argolaith.

Then he grinned. "Alright. Let's train."

The clearing where they had feasted now became a battleground. The embers of the dying fire cast long, flickering shadows, adding an eerie glow to the night.

Malakar stood in the center, arms folded, his midnight cloak barely shifting in the faint breeze. His violet eyes burned like twin stars.

Kaelred stretched his fingers, rolling his shoulders. "So? How do we start?"

Malakar unsheathed his blade in a single, fluid motion. It was thin and curved, wickedly sharp, and gleamed with a dark aura.

"Draw your weapons," he said. "And attack me."

Kaelred and Argolaith hesitated.

Malakar sighed. "If you need an invitation—"

He moved.

Malakar disappeared—

Then reappeared right in front of Kaelred.

Kaelred barely had time to react before Malakar's blade stopped an inch from his throat.

His heart pounded.

Then—Malakar vanished again.

Argolaith swore, twisting on his heel—only for Malakar to already be behind him.

A flicker of steel—

Argolaith blocked, barely. Sparks flew as their blades clashed.

Kaelred's fingers tightened around his daggers. He launched forward, slashing toward Malakar's side—

But Malakar twisted, deflecting his attack with disgusting ease before slamming a palm against Kaelred's chest.

Kaelred staggered back, gasping.

Malakar sighed. "Pathetic."

Kaelred clenched his jaw. "You don't have to rub it in."

Malakar gave him a pointed look. "You fight like an assassin but hesitate like a soldier."

Kaelred scowled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Malakar turned, motioning for Argolaith to attack again. "It means you wait for the perfect moment. You think too much. But real fights—"

Argolaith lunged, swinging with raw power.

Malakar sidestepped, letting the blade whistle past his face.

"—do not give you time to think."

Kaelred didn't hesitate this time.

He dashed forward, shifting his grip on his daggers to go low. Malakar's eyes flicked toward him, reading his intent—

Too late.

Kaelred twisted, feinting toward the right—then slashed left.

Malakar's blade deflected him, but this time, Kaelred felt resistance.

He had forced him to react.

Malakar raised a brow. "Better."

Kaelred smirked. "You talk too much."

Malakar's eyes gleamed. "Then silence me."

They fought.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Kaelred and Argolaith attacked in tandem, switching strategies, learning from their mistakes.

Kaelred used speed and precision, aiming for gaps in Malakar's defense.

Argolaith used raw power, forcing Malakar to react and reposition.

It didn't matter.

Malakar outmatched them in every way.

His footwork was impeccable.

His strikes were efficient.

His counters were nearly invisible.

They couldn't win.

But they could improve.

Kaelred was panting now, sweat dripping down his brow. His arms burned from exertion, but he wasn't stopping.

Malakar came at him fast—too fast.

Kaelred's instincts screamed—Dodge left!

But Malakar was expecting that.

So Kaelred did something different.

Instead of dodging—

He dropped.

The motion was ugly—not perfect, not refined—but it worked.

Malakar's blade sliced through empty air—just above his head.

Kaelred rolled forward and slashed at Malakar's leg.

For the first time—

Malakar had to move.

He jumped back, avoiding the strike.

Then—

He smiled.

Kaelred pushed himself to his feet, panting.

Malakar sheathed his sword.

"That is enough," he said.

Kaelred blinked. "What? No finishing move? No crushing defeat?"

Malakar tilted his head. "You made me move."

Kaelred frowned. "Yeah, and?"

Malakar's eyes gleamed. "You are learning."

Kaelred exhaled, rolling his shoulders. His body ached. But the fight had given him something new.

Insight.

He wasn't just fighting anymore. He was adapting.

Argolaith wiped sweat from his brow. "Alright, I'll admit it—you're better than us."

Malakar smirked. "I know."

Kaelred sighed. "You don't have to sound so smug about it."

Malakar turned, walking toward the fading embers of their fire. "We will train again."

Kaelred winced. "Can't wait."

But deep down—

He meant it.

The embers of their fire had nearly died out, casting a dim orange glow across the clearing. Argolaith wiped sweat from his brow, his muscles burning from the intense training session under Malakar. His knuckles ached, his arms felt like lead, but he wasn't disappointed.

If anything, he felt alive.

Kaelred sat beside him, still catching his breath. Malakar, as usual, showed no signs of exhaustion. He stood by the fire, his violet gaze unreadable, his sword already sheathed as if their fight had meant nothing to him.

Argolaith knew better.

Malakar was always calculating, always testing them. And tonight?

He had forced them to grow.

Argolaith rolled his shoulders, letting his breathing even out. His body was still adjusting to the sheer brutality of Malakar's fighting style. The speed, the precision, the unpredictability.

Every time Argolaith attacked, Malakar countered. Every time he adjusted, Malakar was already three steps ahead. It had been infuriating.

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But…

It had also been enlightening.

Argolaith was strong. His foundation was solid. His strikes were powerful. But against Malakar, power wasn't enough.

He needed to be sharper.

He needed to be faster.

He needed to be better.

He clenched his fists, feeling the tension in his bones. This was good.

He was no stranger to hardship. He had clawed his way through every battle, survived every trial thrown his way. This was just one more challenge.

And he would overcome it.

Kaelred let out a heavy breath. "That was brutal."

Argolaith smirked. "Tired already?"

Kaelred shot him a glare. "I don't see you bouncing around, either."

Argolaith let out a chuckle, stretching his arms. His muscles protested, but he ignored the pain. Pain meant progress. Pain meant growth.

Malakar finally spoke. "Your strength is undeniable."

Argolaith looked up. Malakar's expression was neutral, but there was something else in his eyes.

Acknowledgment.

"However," Malakar continued, "you rely on instinct too much. It makes you predictable."

Argolaith arched a brow. "Instinct has kept me alive."

Malakar nodded. "Yes. But it will not keep you alive forever."

Silence fell between them.

Argolaith understood.

Instinct was valuable—but if he wanted to become something more, he needed to refine it. He needed discipline. Control.

He exhaled, nodding. "Then teach me."

Malakar smirked. "I already am."

Kaelred groaned as he stretched out on the ground. "So. Now that we've been beaten into the dirt, what's next?"

Argolaith leaned back on his hands, gazing up at the night sky.

The stars stretched endlessly above them, cold and distant, yet ever-present. They reminded him of the mountain he had climbed, the trials he had faced, the enemies he had fought.

They weren't done yet.

Not even close.

"The next tree," Argolaith said simply.

Kaelred let out a short laugh. "Right. Just like that, huh?"

Argolaith turned his gaze toward him. "We didn't come all this way to sit around."

Kaelred sighed. "You never let me have a moment to relax, do you?"

Argolaith smirked. "Did you really think I would?"

Kaelred groaned, covering his face with one hand.

Malakar, who had remained silent, finally spoke again. "The next tree will not be as forgiving as the first."

Kaelred peered at him from between his fingers. "Oh, great. Fantastic. That's exactly what I wanted to hear."

Argolaith ignored Kaelred's sarcasm. "Do you know where it is?"

Malakar nodded. "I have… an idea."

Kaelred sat up. "And?"

Malakar's violet eyes flickered. "It will not be a simple journey."

Argolaith rolled his shoulders. "Nothing worth doing ever is."

Malakar studied him for a moment, then smirked. "Good."

Argolaith let out a slow breath, staring into the embers of the fire.

Every step of this journey had tested him. Had pushed him beyond what he thought he was capable of.

And yet—

He had survived.

He had thrived.

There were still battles ahead. Still challenges waiting to break him.

But he wouldn't break.

He had come too far. Fought too hard.

And he wasn't stopping now.

Argolaith pushed himself to his feet, shaking off the ache in his limbs.

He had one goal.

And he would see it through.

No matter what.