Chapter 4: The Training
Over the next few weeks, Lyra slowly adapted to life inside the Crimson Lotus.
In the afternoons, she worked throughout the main hall serving drinks, greeting guests, and observing the constant flow of adventurers, merchants, nobles, and mercenaries passing through the establishment. The attention still made her uncomfortable at first. People looked at her now.
Not with pity.Not with dismissal.
With interest.
That alone felt unnatural.
But over time, Lyra realized something important.
She still had control.
Her mana reacted to attraction, attention, desire, and emotional fixation—
but she still decided how much of herself she revealed to the world.
That distinction mattered enormously to her.
Morgana remained relentlessly demanding during training.
“Maintain eye contact.”
“Stop shrinking your posture.”
“You apologize with your body language constantly.”
“Walk like you belong in the room.”
Lyra hated how often Morgana was correct.
But slowly—
painfully—
she improved.
Her posture straightened.Her movements became sharper.Her confidence steadier.
And the stronger her confidence became—
the stronger her resonance reacted.
The growth terrified her.
Because for the first time in her life—
her effort was actually producing results.
But Morgana’s true focus was never the Crimson Lotus itself.
It was combat.
Every morning before sunrise, Lyra pushed herself mercilessly through the private training grounds beneath the estate.
Mana reinforcement.Spell compression.Close combat.Circulation control.Reaction training.Acceleration bursts.
Everything.
Years of brutal discipline finally had mana powerful enough to matter.
Pink mana exploded around Lyra’s fists as she slammed a compressed strike through a reinforced practice target hard enough to shatter it apart.
The impact echoed violently across the courtyard.
“…Again,” Lyra muttered to herself.
Mana reinforcement surged through her legs as she accelerated forward and released another compressed blast at nearly point-blank range.
The second target exploded apart even faster than the first.
Morgana calmly observed nearby beneath the lanternlight, violet eyes narrowing slightly with genuine interest.
“Your compression efficiency improved again,” she noted calmly.
Sweat clung heavily to Lyra’s skin while pink mana drifted around her body in increasingly dense currents.
“Not enough.”
That response had become common lately.
Within only a few months, Lyra had reached Level 20.
A level she once believed completely impossible.
And despite the speed of her growth—
she still looked dissatisfied.
Because the stronger she became—
the more terrifying Marshall felt.
Later that evening, Lyra sat across from Morgana in one of the upper lounges beneath soft crimson lanternlight.
“My growth slowed again,” Lyra muttered irritably.
Morgana calmly sipped her wine.
“Because you reached another bottleneck.”
Lyra frowned immediately.
“…Already?”
“Level 20 after only a few months is not a limit,” Morgana replied flatly.
Pink mana drifted softly around Lyra’s fingertips.
“You’ve become quite dangerous already,” Morgana continued calmly. “Your mana reinforcement is exceptional for your level. Your combat instincts are improving rapidly. Frankly, your adaptability is becoming concerning.”
Lyra blinked.
“…Was that a compliment?”
“It was a warning.”
Lyra snorted softly.
Again—
strangely natural.
Then Morgana’s expression sharpened slightly.
“So what actually worries you?”
Silence settled briefly between them.
Then Lyra quietly admitted:
“…I’m still weak.”
“You are already stronger than most adventurers your age.”
“Not against the people that matter.”
That answer shifted the atmosphere immediately.
Morgana’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“…Marshall.”
Lyra slowly nodded.
For the first time, she explained everything fully.
The ruins beneath Velkaris.Marshall’s manipulation.The betrayal.The treasures connected to the Demon King.The way Marshall discarded her the moment she stopped being useful.
And finally—
the truth she feared most.
“He wanted to surpass humanity,” Lyra admitted quietly. “And now I think I understand why.”
Morgana remained silent.
“The crystal changed my mana into something partially demonic,” Lyra continued softly. “If Marshall learns I survived that…” Her fingers tightened slightly. “I think he’d experiment on me to figure out how.”
The room grew colder.
Because both women understood the implication.
Humanity was naturally limited to Level 75.
But demons were not.
The Demon Realm itself could sustain mana far beyond what Elyrion allowed.
And someone like Marshall—
someone obsessed with transcending limits—
would absolutely seek a path beyond humanity itself.
Morgana leaned back slightly afterward.
“I know Marshall,” she admitted calmly.
Lyra blinked immediately.
“…What?”
“I fought him years ago during a treasure expedition.”
That caught Lyra completely off guard.
Morgana’s expression remained calm, but colder now.
“He was already monstrously ambitious back then,” she admitted quietly. “Strong. Intelligent. Ruthless.” Her lips thinned slightly. “And obsessed with surpassing limits no human should cross.”
The pink mana around Lyra’s fingers pulsed softly.
Morgana’s gaze settled steadily onto her.
“He permanently damaged my mana pathways during that expedition,” she continued calmly. “My magical growth stagnated afterward.”
Lyra frowned slightly.
“…That bad?”
Morgana nodded once.
“It took me nearly five years simply to stabilize my condition enough to continue advancing properly again.”
Silence settled quietly across the room.
“And now,” Morgana continued calmly, “I require an extremely rare advancement elixir if I want to reach Level 60 within a reasonable timeframe.”
For the first time—
Lyra fully understood.
Morgana did not merely dislike Marshall.
She hated him.
Coldly.Quietly.Strategically.
Like someone carrying an old wound that never healed correctly.
Then after several long moments, Lyra spoke quietly.
“…I want revenge.”
Morgana looked at her calmly.
“So do I.”
That answer settled heavily between them.
Morgana’s gaze shifted toward the pink mana drifting around Lyra’s fingertips.
“That is why,” she said calmly, “you should not completely reject the idea of transformation.”
Lyra immediately tensed.
Morgana noticed.
“I am not pressuring you,” she clarified. “But you need to think rationally.”
The crimson lanternlight reflected softly in her violet eyes.
“If Marshall truly surpassed humanity’s limits already, then ordinary human growth may eventually become insufficient.”
Lyra remained silent.
“The transformations exist because your mana is gradually evolving toward demonic compatibility,” Morgana explained calmly. “They improve mana density, resonance efficiency, physical capability, and adaptation speed.”
Her gaze sharpened slightly.
“And most importantly…”
Pink mana pulsed softly.
“They accelerate growth.”
Lyra looked down quietly.
Transformation.
The word still unsettled her deeply.
More sensitivity.More resonance.More attraction.More indulgence.
More demonic.
Morgana studied her expression carefully before speaking more quietly this time.
“Lyra,” she said calmly, “your mana changes your body, not your mind.”
Silence settled briefly between them.
“You are still yourself,” Morgana continued. “Your judgment, identity, memories, and choices remain yours.”
Pink mana drifted lazily around Lyra’s fingertips.
“But your body will continue adapting toward whatever allows your mana to grow most efficiently.”
Lyra closed her eyes briefly.
Part of her still hated it.
But another part—
the part obsessed with never being weak again—
couldn’t ignore the truth anymore.
If Marshall had truly surpassed humanity already—
then she might eventually need to become something beyond human to stop him.