The Demon Queen's Royal Consort

"Dragon's piss," Lesley replied indifferently.

"WHEEEEEEEEEEWWWWW..." I violently spat out the liquid still in my mouth, coughing and gasping.

"What?!?!"

"Haha." A shy laugh escaped Lesley's lips.

I blinked a few times, incredulous. 'Lesley laughing? I must be hallucinating.'

'What was that? Did I just hear a laugh? Was she making a joke?' I thought, utterly shocked.

But before I could react, Lesley's expression had already returned to its usual impassive mask. Without acknowledging my astonishment, she continued walking briskly toward the center of Section 1. She stopped in front of the sword rack, her eyes scanning the blades with analytical precision, as if selecting the perfect tool for a meticulous task.

"Don't get too used to these potions. All they do is temporarily suppress fatigue."

"Suppress? I feel like I've been reborn!" I retorted, shrugging my shoulders and stretching my arms. My body felt light, brimming with energy.

"Yes. The effect varies from person to person. Apparently, you never used these things when you were still a noble, or it wouldn't have been so... dramatic," she said, picking up a longsword and testing its balance with a casual flick of her wrist.

I glanced at the weapons in the section and noticed a crucial difference from what one might expect in a training environment: unlike the fantasy stories where apprentices used wooden swords to avoid serious injuries, every weapon here was real. No blunt blades, no rounded tips, just deadly steel.

Lesley selected a double-edged sword, balanced and unadorned, perfectly suited to her size. After testing a few cuts, she finally turned to me.

"Choose your weapon. We're starting weapons combat training."

Her eyes narrowed, and her posture shifted subtly. The air around her grew heavy. A predator had awakened.

Before my mind could fully process what was happening, my body was already moving on its own. I walked to the rack, my fingers closing around the hilt of a sword similar to Lesley's but larger.

The weight of the weapon felt familiar. Flashbacks flooded my mind: memories of the old Glenn, his relentless practice, the grueling training that had shaped his swordsmanship. I could feel every lesson ingrained in this body.

I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to synchronize with those memories. 'Knowing is one thing; understanding is something else entirely.'

I took a deep breath. 'I know how to hold this sword.'

"Come."

Lesley gestured for me to approach the center of the arena, where a circular sparring platform awaited.

"Let's start with the basics. The goal is the same as before: discover your limits."

I nodded, trying to stay calm.

Even with adrenaline surging through me, one thought hammered in my mind:

'If she mistimes her strike... I'm dead.'

But I didn't have time to dwell on it. Lesley disappeared.

One second she was there. The next, her sword was slicing through the air toward my head.

Time seemed to slow. My instincts took over, and my blade rose in an instinctive block. The shock reverberated through my arms.

I held the sword with both hands. Lesley used only one.

Even so, my feet slid across the ground, and my knees nearly buckled under the force of the impact.

My breathing grew erratic. I barely had time to regain my balance before her blade was already coming again, this time aiming for my neck.

I jumped to the side at the last instant. Lesley's sword passed millimeters from my skin. The wind from the blow sent a chill down my spine.

I countered with a quick lateral cut. She dodged it effortlessly, and in return, a kick slammed into my stomach.

The force launched me several meters back.

'What... strength...!'

But before I hit the ground, I forced my body to spin in the air, adjusting my posture. I landed unsteadily, but on my feet.

Lesley gave no quarter. She was already on me, her blade raised for another strike.

I raised my sword at the last instant.

The impact reverberated through my entire body. My hands burned, and my arms were thrown back.

She took advantage of the opening for a quick thrust.

My only way out was to use the momentum to propel myself backward. I executed an awkward backflip, avoiding the blow by inches.

I landed in a defensive stance, my eyes locked on her.

'This is... fun?'

Lesley smiled.

The next few minutes were a blur of attacks and blocks. Precise strikes, dodged by mere instants. Every movement demanded my full attention, leaving no room for distraction.

But a problem arose: my body understood the combat, but my mind hesitated.

My reactions were purely instinctive. My mind was the bottleneck.

Five minutes later...

My body was covered in cuts. Nothing serious, but Lesley had landed dozens of hits.

"Alright. Next weapon."

I placed my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath.

"Change weapons?"

"Yes. You have some foundation in swordsmanship, but you're still raw. Besides, we need to test all possibilities. Maybe there's a weapon here that better suits your bodily changes," she explained.

'Makes sense. Especially since my own mind is getting in the way.'

Lesley added that after an awakening, physical characteristics can change dramatically. The ideal type of weapon might be completely different now.

"Let's try polearms."

She picked up a common spear. I chose a similar one.

This time, I was ready for her offensive.

The fight was more calculated, each attack and dodge requiring precision. Even so, the injuries piled up.

After fifteen minutes, another exchange.

"Now, dual swords."

I picked up two short blades.

It was a disaster.

Within four minutes, I was cut all over.

"Definitely not." Lesley shook her head. "Let's try heavy weapons."

She hefted a gigantic warhammer as if it were a toy.

I chose an eighty-centimeter club. Simple, robust, it fit well in my hand. I felt confident.

This time, I attacked first.

Each heavy blow cut through the air violently. A single hit would be enough to end the fight. For a few moments, we seemed like two titans clashing.

Then, I made a mistake. In a popular book on Earth, there was a line that stuck with me: 'Pride goes before a fall.' Those milliseconds of arrogance cost me dearly.

I attempted a feint. A descending blow, a spin... and a secondary attack.

Lesley moved precisely to my left and struck my ribs.

The impact was brutal.

I was thrown more than thirty meters.

The last thing I saw before everything went dark was Lesley spinning the hammer and sighing.

I blacked out.

**

"SPLAAAASH!"

"Ahh, damn it...!"

I woke up with a violent jolt. Ice-cold water drenched my body, sending shivers down my spine. The sudden temperature shock was almost as bad as the sharp pain tearing through my ribs.

I tried to move, and a wave of agony spread through my torso. I looked at the left side of my body and saw a massive, purple bruise, swollen and angry. Every breath was torture.

'Damn... There's no way I can keep training like this...'

My mind was still reeling when Lesley's sharp voice cut through the air like a blade.

"Get up. Now we're training with battle axes."

I blinked, trying to process what I'd just heard.

"What?"

"Battle axes." Her voice was cold and unyielding. "Don't make me repeat myself."

I stared at her, incredulous.

"Agh... There's no way I can continue. Look at me!" I gestured to the sorry state of my body, hoping she'd show some common sense.

But Lesley just stared at me, her eyes as cold as ever.

"No way? Why?" Her voice was dangerous, almost challenging.

I opened my mouth to argue, but she cut me off before I could speak.

"Do you think your enemies will always fight you at your peak? Do you think they'll give you time to recover? To rest?"

I swallowed hard.

"If you think that, you're dead wrong."

She crossed her arms, her gaze piercing.

"Your real training starts now, Glenn. I warned you. You're about to endure a hell few would have the courage to face."

Every word hit like a hammer. The worst part was that they made sense.

And that pissed me off the most.

Lesley watched me for a moment before continuing, her expression distant, thoughtful.

"When your majesty chose you, my first thought was to rip your head off your neck." Her voice dripped with contempt. "It would have solved so many problems for my queen in the years, no, decades, to come."

I tensed. The casual, almost sincere way she spoke made it clear she'd seriously considered it.

"But when I saw your awakening..." She paused, her eyes locking onto mine. "I realized she was never wrong."

The air grew heavier.

"You have the potential to surpass the elite. To become something this world has never seen."

She tilted her head slightly, her voice dropping to a darker tone.

"But for that, you'll suffer ten times more than any other genius who ever lived."

Silence.

Then Lesley took a step forward and growled:

"Now get your sorry ass off the ground and pick an axe."

My throat went dry.

'Fuck... Here we go again.'

The throbbing pain in my ribs tried to anchor me to the ground, but I forced myself to stand, panting, my muscles screaming in protest. My fingers trembled as they closed around the handle of a massive war axe.

"Good."

Lesley smirked, but there was no humor in it.

"Let's begin."

Three long hours of bruises, contusions, and relentless training followed.