I Am a Hero With A Hundred Abilities-Chapter 42: Ch 41. No Experience

He shifted in his seat. "Okay, but how am I supposed to fight this guy? First, will your family even allow this? And second—what about the massive level gap?"

Sophia smirked, tilting her head. "Leave my family to me. I'll handle them."

She then looked him up and down, assessing him silently for a moment. "As for the level gap... with a little training, you'll be able to handle him."

Ethan frowned. "Seriously? I'm Level 1. He's a Level 5 champion. You think I can just train and catch up?"

Truth was, Sophia had already seen enough to believe it. From the moment Ethan survived the Duality Den—a Trial that should've killed him—and the way he faced down five Level 3 villains and lived to talk about it, she knew he wasn't ordinary. But she wasn't about to feed his ego.

Instead, she said simply, "Yes. I do."

"…Okay, then. Who's supposed to train me?"

She raised an eyebrow, like the answer was obvious. "Me, of course."

Ethan stared. "…Of course it's you."

****

The morning sun cast a soft golden hue across one of the many private training grounds of the Lancaster estate.

The grass shimmered with dew, but the stillness of dawn was quickly broken by two figures preparing for an intense session.

Ethan wore a grey tank top that clung to his well-built frame, black shorts that allowed for fluid movement, and crisp white sneakers.

Beside him, Sophia adjusted her posture, dressed in a white sports bra and black joggers. Her hair was tied back into a neat ponytail, keeping it from interfering with her focus.

Her black sneakers were light, made for speed and control.

As they stretched in sync, Sophia glanced sideways and asked, "Did you take your sister to school?"

Ethan gave a quick nod, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Yup. And I didn't accept any missions today. So I'm all yours."

Sophia rolled her eyes at his theatrics. "Lucky me," she replied dryly. "Today, I'll observe how you fight. That way, I can pinpoint where you need improvement."

Ethan nodded. He was ready.

"I'll be using one of my common-tier abilities to keep things fair," Sophia continued. "No need to go overboard."

"How many abilities do you have now?" Ethan asked, curious.

"Eight established. Seven more before I hit my limit."

Ethan's eyebrows twitched slightly. Eight? Meanwhile, he only had one. But that would change soon. With the Sanctum of Beasts, his future arsenal would make fifteen look like child's play.

Sophia took a stance, her expression sharpening. "Let's begin."

In perfect synchrony, both muttered their abilities.

{Force Might} Ethan said, his body surging with kinetic energy, invisible ripples flowing around him.

{Blade summon} Sophia whispered, a slender sword materializing in her grip with a flash of Essence.

The spar began.

Sophia lunged in with a wide horizontal swing. As Ethan leaned back, dodging it narrowly. But Sophia's swordplay wasn't amateurish—she twisted mid-swing, redirecting the blade faster than expected.

Ethan barely pulled away, creating distance with a backstep before charging again.

This time, Ethan launched a barrage of blows, his fists glowing faintly from the force-enhancing ability.

Sophia blocked each one, her footwork measured, her parries precise. Then, seeing an opening, she diverted one of Ethan's punches just enough to slip in close.

With one swift move, she elbowed him in the stomach.

The hit connected—but instead of staggering back, Ethan stood his ground, having used Force Drain to absorb and redirect the momentum. Gritting his teeth, he raised his fist to strike again—but Sophia's blade slid into position, halting his blow with a loud metallic clang that echoed across the training ground.

"That's enough for now," she said, stepping back.

Ethan exhaled sharply, a hint of disappointment in his tone. "Damn. I was just getting in the mood."

Sophia, however, was still analyzing him with sharp eyes. "You fight purely on instinct. No formal training."

"Yeah," Ethan replied, scratching the back of his head. "I wasn't exactly a model student at the academy." A half-truth. Better than revealing he wasn't from this world.

She crossed her arms. "Your instincts are sharp, and your ability control is incredibly refined—too refined. It's like you just awakened the skill, but your mastery is already high. That doesn't happen normally."

Ethan said nothing, but she had hit the nail on the head. The Sanctum had gifted him his ability at peak mastery.

His instincts weren't human—they were carved from hundreds of deaths, of battles against monstrosities.

He didn't fight like a man—he fought like a beast. Or, if one were feeling generous, a hunter.

Sophia continued, "To improve your fighting style, we need to do three things. First, give you a weapon. Your force ability will become stronger and more focused with a medium. Second, teach you proper technique. Your movements are too wild. And third..."

She paused, her eyes gleaming.

"I'll teach you something called Flow."

"Flow?"

Sophia walked over to a nearby bench, grabbing a towel before answering. "Flow is the act of circulating Meta Essence throughout your body in a specific pattern. It's not just about fueling your ability—it's about enhancing your entire physical and mental state. When done right, it sharpens your focus, strengthens your body, and significantly increases the effectiveness of your abilities."

Ethan raised a brow. "Doesn't mastery already do that? I mean, my ability is already operating at peak efficiency. I can output more than most people at my level."

Sophia nodded. "Yes—ability-wise, your output is impressive. Your understanding of your power allows you to use less Meta Essence while producing more impact. But that's entirely due to your mastery, not your control."

Ethan blinked, clearly processing. "What's the difference?"

Sophia stepped closer, her tone more instructive now. "Think of your ability as a high-end appliance. Your Meta Essence is the electricity powering it. The higher your mastery, the better the appliance performs. It becomes more efficient, using less power to do more."

She paused, watching to make sure he was following.

"But now imagine improving the quality, not the quantity, of the electricity itself. Not just feeding power into the appliance, but refining it so that the performance goes beyond its specs."

Ethan's eyes lit with realization. "So… even an already-efficient appliance becomes even better when the power source is enhanced."

Sophia smiled slightly. "Exactly. Flow is about refining your Meta Essence—learning to move it, shape it, and cycle it through your body like a perfected current. Once you master that, your strength, speed, reflexes, even perception—they'll all climb to a level that pure mastery alone can't touch."

Ethan folded his arms, clearly intrigued now. "So… where do we start?"

Sophia gave a light shrug, but her gaze was sharp. "First, you need to learn how to enter the state of Flow. It's not easy. It requires patience, focus, and a deep understanding of your own essence."

She turned, walking back toward the center of the training field.

"But once you get it… we'll be one step closer to making you useful."

Ethan scoffed, shaking his head with a smirk. "I'm starting to think you enjoy insulting me."

Sophia didn't turn around, but he could hear the amusement in her voice. freewebnøvel.coɱ

"Only because you make it too easy."

****

Agonized screams echoed through the cold, sterile corridors of the facility—raw, guttural, and laced with a pain that defied description.

Inside a dimly lit chamber, the source was revealed.

Mireveil sat slumped in a steel chair, limbs bound tightly by a white restraint coat stained with sweat and blood.

A black bag covered their head, robbing them of sight, breath shallow and ragged beneath the fabric.

Thick cables ran from the arms of the chair to their body, pulsing with high-voltage electricity—each surge ripping through muscle, nerve, and soul.

It was the kind of torture no normal human could endure.

Then, without warning, the current ceased. The silence that followed was almost deafening.

The heavy door creaked open, and a figure cloaked in dark robes stepped inside, boots echoing against the cold floor.

His presence brought with it a suffocating dread, the temperature in the room seeming to drop.

He stood before the broken figure of Mireveil, his voice low, emotionless—like frost scraping against glass.

"For such a simple task," he said, "I find it difficult to comprehend how you failed so spectacularly."

Mireveil twitched, too drained to speak. Their body trembled, still twitching from residual currents.

The robed figure leaned in slightly, his tone colder, but deliberate. "Fortunately for you, failure does not have to be the end."

He paused.

"The boy—the one responsible for your disgrace—has been located. He's within the Lancaster estate. The organization has labeled him a threat… and threats must be erased."

He straightened. "You'll be deployed with one of the Sentinels. Eliminate the boy and crush anyone who dares to protect him."

The figure turned, walking slowly toward the door. Just as the room was about to be plunged back into silence, his final words spilled from his lips in a chilling whisper.

"…But your punishment is far from over."

The moment he exited, the hum of energy returned. The cables lit up once more—and the screams resumed.

Cold. Endless. Unforgiving.

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A/N I will release 3 extra chapters if I get 120 power stones or 50 Golden tickets.

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