While Pale and Lone slept, she studied the shadows. While they enjoyed their delicious meals, she became one with the darkness. While they wasted their time bathing in pursuit of comfort, she cultivated inner strength. And now that the 3rd sun had pa.s.sed and Guild Invictus was in sight of the city of Merylsward... She still hadn't mastered a movement technique!!

She collapsed, face-down on a pillow of moss, her fatigue apparent.

"Tss." Tycon scoffed, "I gave you ample time to sleep, girl. Did I not?"

With the rapid training schedule, Tycon had scheduled a 4-bell period of sleep, and plenty of rest breaks throughout the sun, reserved for napping or learning nonverbal tactics and other knowledge. Taree spent her free time trying to master a movement technique. Now she was too tired to stay awake, much less comprehend a Skill.

She felt gentle arms lift her to sit up.

"Taree, are you okay?" The lovely Pale asked with a genuine smile.

Taree's heart pounded and she snuggled her face into Pale's chest, selfishly taking in his scent.

"I'm okay now," she mumbled.

Dragan wound up a throw, rotating his arm in its socket like a spinning toy. Tycon loaded his crossbow. The clunk sound its loading arm made sent a chill down Taree's spine.

"Target!" Tycon yelled.

With a powerful woos.h.i.+ng sound, Dragan threw the hard fruit towards Tycon.

Pale grinned, "I'll be right back." Taree's heart was left aflutter.

In a blur of vision, Pale blinked out of existence, leaving behind a silvery mist. In the next instant, he had reappeared in front of Tycon, reaching out his right hand and locking his elbow. The series of motions like smooth clockwork, he caught the hard fruit with a loud PAP noise. It was an accurate throw and a perfect catch.

Tycon smacked the back of Pale's head, causing him to drop the fruit, "Where's your SPEAR?!"

Pale looked back at Taree and spotted the crimson Lifedrinker spear, watching it tilt and fall to the ground. When he teleported, he had left it there.

Pale grinned innocently, "But I protected you!"

"Which is why I didn't *shoot* you with my crossbow." Tycon reprimanded, "But you're still WRONG!!"

Tycon shoved Pale's back with his boot and Pale ran happily back towards Taree.

Taree stood up and handed Pale back his spear. She couldn't meet his gaze. But it wasn't the whirling b.u.t.terflies in her stomach, it was her feelings of inferiority.

Tycon didn't berate her like he did Pale and Lone, but over the past several suns she was undeniably and oppressively pressured.

She grew up the genius of the Ivory Judge sect. She was always afforded pills for her injuries and to help her comprehension. She was always celebrated as the fastest, the quickest learning, and the most powerful cultivator in her generation.

But in Guild Invictus, she was fast but not as fast as Pale. She was strong but not as strong as Lone. She was practiced in all sorts of weapons: swords, spears, archery-- but Tarquin Wroe, Dragan, Maximus, and even Tycon outcla.s.sed her in skill. And her brother was contracted as a tracker, so she couldn't even compare herself to him!

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They trained their endurance and various feats of athleticism for bells on end. And then they were expected to learn complex strategies. She thought Dragan was only good for drinking and being loud, but when he shared his knowledge about the arcane, curses, and various creatures they had encountered, her head swam.

Not a single sun of training had pa.s.sed where she hadn't cried in frustration.

Pale had rea.s.sured her, saying they had spent weeks learning the material and getting acclimated to the training schedule. But the worst defeat came from a practical cla.s.s taught on the first sun.

Tycon had arranged for himself, Wroe, and Dragan to demonstrate movement techniques. (Maximus was exempt because his movement techniques made use of his wings.)

Dragan had demonstrated the Lava Leap Skill, in which he leapt a great distance without a running start. His instructions on how to collect ki-- oh, the outsiders call it mana? Dragan's in-depth instructions on how to gather explosive mana in the legs were entirely lost on Taree.

Tycon demonstrated a Skill called Fleeting Ghost. He ran across the forest floor in complete silence, not even kicking up the leaves. He explained it, but no one else could easily grasp the concept. Taree had only heard of the highest level of clan ninja able to perform such a feat so she didn't even try.

Wroe was able to summon strange shadowy portals, used in conjunction with a burst of mana, he was able to transform into a silvery mist and reappear a short distance away.

By the second sun, Pale was able to perform all 3 skills to minor completion... An absolutely impossible feat for anyone in the Ivory Judge sect. Even more terrifying, after only 3 suns, Pale was able to exhibit Wroe's Misty Step Skill somewhere in the realm of major completion, though not without its flaws.

Taree's only consolation was that Lone wasn't able to comprehend any of the movement techniques either.

She smiled at Lone with s.h.i.+ning teeth. They were both losers TOGETHER.

"What have you learned in the last 3 suns, Mister Lone?" Tycon asked.

"Oh, Young Master Tamaki has been teaching me a lot about the woods and stuff."

Tycon nodded, "I've noticed. I'm impressed with your initiative, as pathfinding and its related studies are often helpful in our line of work as a traveling company."

"Does that mean I pa.s.s, Sir Tycon?" Lone asked excitedly.

"Tss. It means you don't fail." Tycon narrowed his eyes, "But since you are able to exhibit some kind of improvement, in this contest, you are outperforming one other person."

Taree fell to her knees in despair, her forehead squis.h.i.+ng against the mossy ground. TRAITOR!!

"SIR TYCON!!" she yelled.

Tycon walked over, "Stand!"

Taree shot up, her body as rigid as an arrow. Over the past few suns, Tycon's voice had been drilled so hard into her, that when he spoke a certain way, her body moved before she understood what was going on.

Tycon crossed his arms, "Have some self-respect, young lady. Now, speak before I change my mind."

"I-- I know I'm not as strong or as brave or as skilled as Pale," Taree admitted, her voice quavering and her eyes blurry.

Tycon opened his mouth to speak, to shut her down, to tell her how useless she was... To point out every insecurity she had, that Tycon knew, but refused to say out loud. Her tiny fists shook and tears ran hot down her cheek.

Tycon hesitated. He motioned for her to continue.

"But I-- but I..."

Tycon placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Breathe, child. Hesitation does not beget a leader, especially the future leader of the Ivory Judge sect."

Tycon spoke firmly, without judgment, and without lies... A much different admonis.h.i.+ng than Taree had expected.

"I... I request a duel to prove what I've learned."

"Ohhhh?" Tycon smirked, "So the little Kimura Taree thinks she has learned bravery? Very well. Let's see what you can do."