Chapter 437: Stalled Progress
(30 days before the fight, Leo’s POV)
A month before the fight, Leo finally began to feel the weight of reality pressing down on him, as the ticking clock grew louder and louder with each passing day.
While he had made some marginal improvements on the combat front, thanks in part to Charles’s persistent guidance that helped refine certain aspects of his combat technique and cleaned up certain areas of inefficiency, the real breakthrough he desperately sought in the realm of intent remained frustratingly out of reach.
Despite hours spent in the study of color red, Leo could not for the life of him push past the barrier that stood between him and the next stage of aura mastery.
"For the hundredth time, son, it will happen when it is meant to happen. These things don’t follow a fixed path or schedule," Charles muttered, his tone laced with visible irritation as he rubbed the back of his neck, fighting the rising edge in his voice.
"You want to see intent? Then keep watching the aura. Look deeper. Look again. Find something you missed. That’s all you can do," he added, barely holding back his frustration, not because Leo was asking questions, but because he genuinely had nothing new to offer.
Leo had been pestering him every single day for a better explanation, a clearer path forward, but Charles had already shared everything he knew—every theory, every anecdote, every lesson passed down from his knowledge of walking down that road before.
However, the truth remained that there was no secret method to understanding intent, nor any shortcut.
Understanding intent required the complete comprehension of a particular aura color at a level so refined, so nuanced, that something simply shifted inside the practitioner.
It was an awakening, not a milestone, and there was no reliable way to measure where someone stood along that path.
And that, more than anything else, frustrated Charles the most, because he could not even tell how far Leo had come or how much further he still had to go.
He had no concrete answers to give the boy, only patience to offer, and that, he feared, was running dangerously thin on both sides.
"I know, I know, Commander, I know I have to be patient, but the truth is, with the way I am right now, it’s impossible for me to take on someone at the Transcendent Tier," Leo muttered, his voice weighed down with frustration, his fists clenched slightly by his sides.
"I can’t even win a single fight against Dumpy, not once in the hundreds of times we’ve sparred, and the best I can do is last a bit longer than twenty minutes before I get taken down. And even that, I sometimes feel, is only because Dumpy holds back and doesn’t go all out the way he should," he added, exhaling sharply as Charles gave a slow shake of his head, disappointment flickering behind his eyes.
"It’s a documented fact that beasts are generally weaker than warriors of the same tier, which means Veyr is probably even stronger than Dumpy, but if I can’t even beat the weaker opponent, what chance do I stand against the real thing?"
Leo’s voice grew louder as the weight of it all started to spill out, his aura thickening until it coated the air around him in a heavy maroon fog that pulsed with tension.
"Without unlocking this damn intent, the one thing you keep saying might level the field, I’m definitely not winning this fight, Commander. I’ll just end up embarrassing myself in front of the entire Cult," he finished, his voice tight as his eyes burned with helpless anger.
"I know you want to do your best in this fight, son. I mean, who wouldn’t?" Charles replied after a pause, his tone steady as he took a deep breath and looked Leo straight in the eye. "There will be billions of people watching, all waiting to see the Dragon Candidates fight like it’s the greatest spectacle of their lives."
"But the harsh truth is, there’s nothing else left for us to do besides sharpening your combat instincts and continuing the study of red aura.
Your mana circulation is already the most refined I’ve ever seen in someone your age. Your internal conduction is cleaner than most Transcendent-level warriors, even though you’re still just a Grandmaster, and your mana output isn’t lacking either."
"You’ve pushed that side of your training as far as it can go for now, and you’ll be hitting your tier ceiling soon enough whether you like it or not," Charles continued, his tone curt and final.
"As for physical strength, you can’t expect some miracle growth spurt in thirty days. Sure, we can work on it, squeeze out maybe one or two, at best three percent improvement, but let’s be honest with each other, Leo, that’s not going to tilt the fight in your favor."
He exhaled heavily and reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a fresh cigarette, tapping it once before lighting it with practiced ease.
"That only leaves skills," he muttered through his teeth as the flame touched the tip. "But to be completely honest with you, son, I don’t see the point in stuffing more techniques into your head right now, not when that same time could be used to keep chasing intent."
"Because skills, at best, might help you stall. They might buy you a second, help you escape something fatal, or catch an opponent off guard. But intent... intent will reshape your entire approach to battle. It will give you control over the flow, the tempo, the very rhythm of a fight. And that’s your only real shot at surviving what’s coming."
"So yes, I get it. I know you’re frustrated. I know it feels like we’re spinning our wheels and hoping for a miracle. But this really is the best plan we’ve got, and unless something drastic changes, all we can do is trust the process and hope the breakthrough comes before the fight begins." Charles concluded, as he picked up his sparring pipe once more, and gestured for Leo to fall into battle stance.
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