Investing In My Crippled Wife Every Return Makes Me Stronger Chapter 234
Not bad, but not good enough[ … words ]
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[ … words ]
“…Not bad. But not good enough.”
The Emperor whispered.
The ice arrows hit him but turned into harmless snowflakes upon impact, scattering into the air like dust. At the same time, he casually stepped through the advancing Frost Surge, crushing the frozen spikes under his boots as if stepping on dried twigs.
“I know.”
Soren muttered back as he drew fresh mana from his core and seized control of the mist from the broken arrows. He made it freeze midair, forming a frost veil before Hector’s eyes. He then launched a new volley of arrows that curved around the veil in a broad flanking arc.
’Now!’
As soon as the Emperor’s gaze shifted, Soren used Quick Step to disappear from his spot and reappear behind him, his palm already thrust forward.
[Frost Palm Strike!]
His hand connected squarely with Hector’s back. For a brief, exhilarating moment, Soren felt the cold surge from his palm into the Emperor’s body, watched as a layer of frost began creeping across the fabric of his training robes. It spread an inch, then two, then…
It abruptly stopped as if it were facing an invisible barrier. Moments later, it disintegrated completely, leaving the robes pristine.
“!”
Soren stared, his hand still outstretched. He had poured genuine power into that strike. In any normal encounter, the freezing would have engulfed their entire torso by now, but against Hector, it hadn’t even left a mark.
[Quick Step!]
He quickly pushed off his back foot and created distance, landing several meters away with his guard still raised.
“That was a good technique.” Hector rolled his shoulder once, as though shrugging off a mild chill. “Ethea must have taught you that, right?”
Soren gave a faint nod, already preparing his next attack.
“Thought so.” Hector turned to face him again, hands still clasped behind his back. “But you are still pulling your punches. Stop worrying about ’hurting’ me and fight like your life depends on it.”
Soren exhaled slowly and nodded again. This time, he didn’t hold back and threw everything he had. He tried layering attacks, creating openings through misdirection and sheer relentless pressure. He used every trick he knew and invented a few new ones on the spot.
Nothing worked.
By the time his mana reserves ran dry and his legs finally gave out, Soren was on one knee, gasping for breath while the Emperor stood exactly where he was, untouched.
“I… yield…”
“Alright, take some rest while I prepare a training plan for you.”
“…Ok.”
Soren replied weakly and spent ten minutes lying on the floor.
Once he recovered enough mana and stamina, he sat up.
“Feeling better?” The Emperor asked.
“More or less.” Soren pushed himself to his feet, rolling the stiffness from his shoulders.
“Good. Then listen closely. I have three exercises for you. You will practice them daily until you can perform each one without any mistakes.”
Soren straightened, giving the Emperor his full attention.
“First. Form a shard the size of your thumbnail and hold it for ten minutes without letting it flicker, crack, or change shape. If it so much as wavers, you start over. This will help you improve your stability.”
Soren nodded. He had already seen how badly his own shard had turned out. Ten minutes of holding a perfect shape sounded grueling, but he would try his best.
“Second. Create three shards of equal size and orbit them around your body without letting any of them touch you or each other. You will start with three and add more as you improve. This will train your divided control.”
’…That doesn’t sound easy.’
“Third. You will take one of those shards and fire it at a target, but you will stop it mid-flight before it hits and bring it back to your hand. The goal is not speed. The goal is control. You must be able to halt your own attack at any point and reverse its momentum without shattering it.”
“…I see,” Soren whispered, already imagining how many times he would fail before getting it right.
“If you don’t understand anything, you can always ask me, or Ethea.” The Emperor added. “Now, go and don’t let her wait too much. I will teach you the technique later.”
Soren nodded in gratitude and dragged himself out of the training hall, but stopped midway as if recalling something.
“Sir, can I ask something?”
Hector raised a brow before nodding.
“…In private?”
“…” The Emperor squinted briefly before flicking his fingers. In an instant, a translucent barrier spread outward from his feet, enveloping both of them in a shimmering dome that rippled once before settling into near-invisibility. “I have opened my domain; no one can spy now.”
Soren looked around in curiosity before coughing and solemnly looking at the Emperor.
“Sir… Do you know about curses?”
“Curses?” Hector’s voice flattened, the word dropping like a stone into still water. A trace of killing intent flickered through his eyes as his gaze locked onto Soren. “Why do you ask?”
Soren froze, the sudden heavy pressure settling on his chest like an anvil. For a brief second, doubt crept in; he questioned whether he’d said something wrong to provoke that reaction or if bringing it up was a mistake. However, recalling they had no one else to ask for help, he steeled his resolve and met the Emperor’s gaze.
“I… I think Ethea is cursed.”
“…What?” Hector’s eyes widened, the killing intent quickly dissolving into shock. “What did you say?”
Soren repeated what he said.
“…Can you elaborate a bit more?” The Emperor asked as he recovered his composure. “Why do you think she is cursed?”
“It’s because of her condition,” Soren replied. “At first, I thought it was just the backlash from whatever happened to her, but even high-ranked healers were unable to heal her. It was as if something was preventing her from recovering. And…”
Soren explained a bunch of logical details to the Emperor, including how the Gate incident might have happened. But of course he left out his appraisal and other abilities.
“I discussed it with Ethea too, and she also has the same idea. But we don’t have anyone to turn to for this except you. We were hoping you might know something about it, or at least point us toward someone who does…”
“…I actually know someone.”
