Imprisoned for a Trillion Years, I Was Worshipped by All Gods!-Chapter 515 - 71-Lioncrest Academy Challenges Again

Split the wall in two with a wooden sword?!

That was something Alan had never even considered—no matter how he looked at it, it seemed completely impossible.

But for his sister, he had to try.

Right now, only Headmaster Gayle could stabilize Isabella's mysterious illness.

And since he had completely fallen out with Lioncrest Academy, leaving Sirius now would surely mean being hunted down mercilessly.

So Alan focused everything he had into swinging that wooden sword.

Strike after strike, endlessly slashing forward!

Though the sword energy was weak, and his arms were quickly becoming sore and drenched in sweat, he did not stop.

If Gayle gave him this task, it must be possible.

He simply hadn't figured out the right technique yet—or perhaps he still hadn't fully grasped the essence of Blade Spirit.

…

While Alan immersed himself in relentless sword practice, Blanche appeared beside Gayle, looking toward Alan's silhouette with a slight shake of her head.

"You should've just let them go."

"Whether it's this training or the responsibility you've given them—it's not fair."

Gayle remained expressionless, replying calmly,

"Their fates were already tragic. Meeting me might not be lucky, but it at least gives them another path. Otherwise, their futures would've been even worse."

He glanced over at Alan and the others and added quietly,

"They've accepted being Sirius students. Since that's the case, I won't abandon them. Bleed less later by sweating more now."

With that, he turned and left.

Blanche continued watching Alan.

He seemed possessed—the way his wooden sword swung faster and faster, the sword energy sharper and more intense with each strike.

After a while, she took a deep breath and walked away.

Gayle's methods were harsh and unorthodox, but their current battle with Lioncrest Academy was deadly. If they didn't suffer now, they'd end up as corpses hanging beneath the Sky Ladder a year and a half from now.

After Blanche left, Alan's sword arm, having swung countless times, was so sore it could barely rise.

"Senior... is this really an effective way to improve?" he asked aloud—hoping for a reply from the black-robed woman in his mind.

But no voice answered.

With no choice, Alan kept swinging.

Each strike sent pain deep into his bones; his muscles screamed in agony.

And so, the brutal training continued through the entire night.

By dawn, Alan was thoroughly drained. His mana and mind power were nearly exhausted.

Nearby, Francis and Fort were in equally terrible shape.

Gayle finally approached, handing Alan a small bottle of potion.

"Use it externally. It'll help your body recover."

Alan gratefully accepted it and was about to apply it—when Isabella came running over.

"Brother, let me help you," she said gently, her eyes full of worry.

Seeing Alan like this always reminded her of how he used to come home from battle, bloody and battered.

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"I can do it," Alan said. He didn't want her to worry.

But Isabella gave a playful smile.

"Come on, why so formal with your sister?"

Alan gave in, closing his eyes and quietly meditating as he pondered sword angles and force.

Isabella, ever gentle, warmed the potion in her palms before carefully massaging it onto his arms.

Just then, Francis staggered over on shaking legs—only to see Alan getting pampered by his sister.

He immediately felt intense jealousy.

Fort also climbed out of the lake, his whole body wrinkled and blistered like he'd been boiled alive. Every part of him ached, but he knew if he didn't move now, it would only get worse later.

"I wish I had a sweet little sister too..." Fort muttered wistfully.

It was clear now why Alan treasured Isabella so deeply. With someone like her caring for you, how could you not love her?

As they watched in envy, Gayle casually tossed the potion bottles to them.

"External use. Good for your body," he said, then turned and left.

Despite their exhaustion, Francis and Fort forced themselves to apply the medicine.

Francis focused on his legs—after fleeing from a tier-gold saber-tooth tiger using maxed-out gravity spells, his legs were raw and worn to the bone.

Fort, after enduring chaotic underwater currents for hours, felt like iron that had been through a thousand hammer strikes.

But the moment the potion touched their skin—

Aaaaaaagh!!

They both screamed like pigs being slaughtered.

"WHAT THE HELL IS IN THIS STUFF?!" Francis howled.

It felt like acid was melting their flesh and seeping into their bones!

Even Fort couldn't hold back his trembling.

The pain was insane.

Gayle, clearly expecting their reaction, was already gone.

Francis turned desperately to Alan.

"Wait a second… Why does he look so relaxed?!"

Fort stared too.

"His pain tolerance is god-level or something?!"

Alan, eyes still closed, opened one and glared.

"If you've got nothing useful to say, shut it. My medicine was made by Isabella—gentle and effective."

He gave his sister a proud glance.

Back at House Roan, her potions were what had kept him alive through years of bloody warfare.

The two instantly lit up.

Like simps, they scooted over to Isabella.

Francis went first.

"Hey, best little sister ever~ wanna share some with us? We're your brother's friends, right?"

Fort was more direct.

"Honestly, I wouldn't mind becoming your half-brother. No pressure."

Isabella: "…"

After applying their medicine, the group returned to the great hall and gathered around the table—watching hungrily as Isabella prepared roasted meat.

They had all been deep in training lately, and cooking duties fell to Isabella.

Which only made them envy Alan more.

She always gave Alan the best meat first—and no one dared complain.

Soon, the fire crackled and the delicious aroma of roast meat filled the air.

Right on cue, Gayle arrived, sniffing the air and seating himself at the table.

He glanced at the trio.

"You lot stay in the valley for now. Focus on training."

Francis immediately protested.

"What?! You already torture us physically—now you're limiting our freedom too?! That's abuse!"

Gayle replied blandly,

"You're free to go, of course. But right now, the entire valley is surrounded by Lioncrest Academy students—here to avenge Gunn. If they tear you limb from limb, don't expect me to help."

Francis shut up instantly.

Gunn hadn't known their strength before and got wrecked. Now that the Lioncrest students knew, any group bold enough to surround the valley wouldn't be pushovers.

Francis might handle one or two… but a dozen? Twenty?

Suicide.

After lunch, the trio returned to their training.

Back before the massive wall, Alan kept swinging his wooden sword.

He could feel his Blade Spirit growing stronger, and even gained new insights into its nature.

According to the black-robed woman, although he'd awakened Blade Spirit, he'd skipped over the foundational steps.

Now, he was finally catching up—one swing at a time.

And once he mastered it completely…

Splitting the wall might no longer be a dream.