THE GENERAL'S DISGRACED HEIR-Chapter 307 : NEW RANK.

Another glitch—as David executed a perfect counter-strike, his vision split momentarily, showing him both Elara before him and, superimposed like a ghostly overlay, a different battlefield entirely. White-hot pain lanced through his temples, and his strike missed by millimeters. He covered the error by transitioning into a defensive stance, but secretly, his heart raced with concern. The dimensional fractures were getting worse.

For several minutes, they danced across the training yard, neither gaining decisive advantage. David's unusual fighting style kept Elara from easily anticipating his movements, while her superior experience and formal training allowed her to counter his techniques effectively. Throughout it all, David pushed himself harder, cataloging each momentary glitch, each flicker of pain that signaled the dimensional instability affecting his body.

"Enough warming up," Elara said suddenly, stepping back. "Let's see where you truly stand."

Before David could respond, she released her aura—a wave of concentrated power that radiated outward like heat from a forge. The air itself seemed to bend around her, dust particles suspended as if time had slowed. This was the unmistakable presence of an Archon, one of the empire's most formidable powers.

Yue gasped audibly, while Litty instinctively took a step back. Even prepared for it, the raw force of Elara's aura was staggering.

David stood his ground, a slight smile touching his lips. "As you wish," he replied.

Then he released his own aura.

The effect was immediate and dramatic. A surge of concentrated power erupted from his form, meeting Elara's aura like a tidal wave crashing against a cliff. The ground beneath their feet trembled slightly, and a few loose pebbles skittered away from the epicenter of their combined power.

"Impossible," Yue breathed, her childlike face pale with shock. "That's... that's a Monarch Rank aura. When did he...?"

Even Litty couldn't maintain her usual composure, her eyes wide with disbelief. "He was barely reaching King Rank when we last saw him. How could he advance so quickly?"

Only Luna remained unaffected, her slight smile suggesting she had known all along. As David's Aetenus, she was intimately familiar with his true capabilities.

Elara's own surprise was evident, though she recovered quickly. "So... ," she said, her voice carrying easily despite the energy swirling around them. "You've ascended to Monarch Rank. Recently, I'd wager."

"Recently enough," David confirmed, maintaining the aura with apparent ease despite the occasional flicker that suggested not all was stable with his power.

He charged forward, his movements now infused with the full might of his revealed rank. Elara met him head-on, but instead of matching his physical assault, she swept her hands in an elegant arc. Brilliant orange flames erupted from her fingertips, forming a spiraling vortex that collided with David's advance. The clash of sword techniques against flame sorcery sent visible shockwaves across the training yard.

She's holding back considerably, David realized as he narrowly avoided a tendril of flame that could have been much faster, much hotter if Elara had willed it. Despite his newly acquired Monarch Rank, the gap between them was terrifying. Each gesture of her hands controlled fires that could reduce entire buildings to ash, yet she manipulated them with the precision of an artist using a fine brush.

For several exhilarating moments, they fought—David using every technique and scrap of power his Monarch Sword Rank afforded him, while Elara demonstrated perhaps a tenth of her true capabilities as one of the most formidable flame battle sorceresses in the empire. Even with such restraint, each of her spells forced David to his absolute limits.

This is humbling, he thought while executing a particularly difficult evasive maneuver. Even with my advancement, I'm barely registering as a threat to her.

Another dimensional glitch rippled through him, more intense than the previous ones. For a sickening moment, David experienced three overlapping realities simultaneously—the training yard with Elara, a fragment of the dungeon battle, and somewhere else entirely, a place of endless darkness. Pain lanced through his skull like a white-hot needle, and his concentration faltered.

The backlash is worsening under combat stress, he cataloged mentally, forcing himself to focus despite the agony. Each dimensional fracture is more severe than the last. If this continues...

He couldn't complete the thought. The implications were too dire. If the [Bookmark] backlash continued to deteriorate his dimensional stability, would he eventually fragment completely? Would he be torn between realities until nothing remained?

Elara, noticing his momentary distraction, adjusted her attack—not pressing the advantage as she could have, but rather shifting to probe a different aspect of his defenses. It was the approach of a teacher evaluating a promising student rather than an opponent seeking victory.

"Your movements are becoming unstable," she observed calmly, while directing a wave of flame that could have been devastating but was instead calibrated to test his adaptability. "Is something interfering with your mana circulation?"

"Nothing I can't handle," David replied, though internally he was increasingly concerned. Another glitch—this one causing his right leg to briefly desynchronize from his perception, making him stumble slightly.

I need to understand these triggers better, he thought. There's a pattern to when the fractures occur, but I'm missing something fundamental.

Luna watched with an outwardly calm demeanor that belied her growing concern. She alone could see the subtle distortions around David—moments where the light bent strangely around his form, where his movements weren't quite aligned with physical reality.

Gradually, the tide began to turn. Despite David's impressive abilities and newly revealed rank, Elara's years of experience as an Archon began to show. Her movements became increasingly precise, each action flowing seamlessly into the next with devastating efficiency. Where David fought with innovation and adaptability, she countered with perfected technique and unshakable fundamentals.

The end came after a particularly severe dimensional flutter caused David to hesitate for a crucial half-second. Reality around him seemed to shatter into a thousand fragments, each showing a different timeline, a different possibility. The pain was beyond description—as if his very being was being pulled apart at the seams of existence.

Elara, seeing his momentary vulnerability, could have unleashed a devastating assault. Instead, she chose the most merciful approach: a swift conclusion. She feinted with a small burst of flames to his left, then summoned a gentle wave of heat—barely more than a warm breeze—that nonetheless swept his legs from under him in his compromised state. Before he could recover, a controlled flame dagger materialized inches from his throat, its heat palpable yet precisely controlled not to burn him.

David knew, as did everyone watching, that Elara had just demonstrated perhaps a hundredth of her true power. The flame dagger at his throat could have been a raging inferno; the wave that toppled him could have been a tsunami of fire. Yet she had calibrated her response perfectly—enough to secure victory while preserving his dignity.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

This is the power gap I need to bridge, David thought through the receding pain of the dimensional fracture. Not just in raw strength, but in control. In finesse.

Both combatants released their auras simultaneously, the pressure in the training yard returning to normal.

"Yield," David said with a smile that showed no resentment at the defeat, though inwardly he was cataloging the data from this test—how many glitches had occurred, their severity, the triggers that seemed to provoke them.

Elara dissipated the flame dagger with a casual gesture and offered him a hand up, which he accepted graciously. "Monarch Rank," she said, not as a question but as confirmation. "When?"

"After the Abyss," he replied simply, hiding a wince as another wave of pain ghosted through him.

As they walked back toward Yue and Litty, David felt a familiar sensation in his mind—the status window of his system briefly flickering across his consciousness, showing that [Bookmark] remained on cooldown with no timeframe displayed. He suppressed a frown. Not only was the skill unavailable, but its backlash was clearly causing dimensional instabilities in his very being. This was more serious than he had initially believed.

"You've been holding out on us," Yue said as they approached, her voice pitched between accusation and admiration. "Monarch Rank? The last time we saw you, you were struggling with advanced King Rank techniques."

"A lot can happen in a dungeon," David replied cryptically.

"Apparently so," Litty murmured, her analytical mind clearly reassessing everything she thought she knew about David.

"An impressive display," Yue commented as they approached. "Though I notice you both deliberately restricted yourselves."

"Of course," Elara replied. "A full demonstration of an Archon's abilities would draw unwanted attention. As would..." she glanced at David, "whatever it is he does."

"Imperial power classifications are useful but limited," David said, changing the subject slightly. "They categorize based on observable metrics without accounting for technique or application."

"Speaking of classification," Litty interjected, her voice lowered, "the carriage will be leaving at dawn. We should prepare our belongings and get some rest."

They made their way back into the inn, the dynamics between them subtly shifted by what they had witnessed. Elara's gaze lingered on David with new interest and perhaps a hint of suspicion. Yue's analytical mind was clearly still processing the techniques she had observed. Luna remained inscrutable as always, while Litty seemed quietly concerned about the journey ahead.

As they separated to their respective rooms for the night, David paused at his door, glancing back down the hallway where Elara had just disappeared into her chamber. The mock battle had revealed more than just fighting capabilities—it had offered glimpses into character, into resolve, into the essence of who they were beneath their carefully maintained facades.

Tomorrow they would leave for Valemir, each step taking them closer to the heart of a conspiracy that had already claimed the real Count Nicalo's life. They would need every skill they possessed, every strange technique and hidden ability, if they hoped to survive what awaited them in the capital.

David touched the transformation necklace at his throat, his now-black hair falling across his forehead as he turned and entered his room. The time for practice was ending. Soon, the real battle would begin.