Draven stood facing his father, his body covered in bruises and bloodstains. Despite the punishment he had endured, his expression remained defiant.
His father looked at him with a wide smile.
"Brat, don't tell me that's all you've got."
Draven grinned in response.
"What the hell are you talking about, old man? I'm just getting started!"
A short distance away, Aldric and Lyriana watched the brutal exchange unfold.
Neither of them could look away.
Aldric's gaze remained fixed on Draven.
*That brat's physical abilities are far beyond what I expected. His raw strength, his speed, even the way he moves…*
His expression grew slightly more serious.
*Now I understand what His Majesty was talking about.*
A memory suddenly surfaced in his mind.
It was from earlier, when he had been sparring with Draven's father.
---
Aldric launched himself forward, throwing one punch after another.
His attacks came in quick succession, each one aimed at his opponent.
Yet Draven's father barely seemed to move.
He simply shifted his body from side to side, effortlessly avoiding every strike.
"You're surprisingly slow," the King remarked. "It's laughable that you're supposed to be a High-Blood."
Aldric clenched his teeth and continued attacking.
But the King dodged every blow with irritating ease.
"Your attacks are weak, your movements sluggish, and your strength practically nonexistent."
He stepped aside once more, allowing another punch to pass harmlessly by.
"Honestly, your physical abilities are pathetic."
Aldric's frustration continued to grow. He threw another series of punches, but none came close to landing.
The King looked at him with a faint smirk.
"You're downright weak for someone who's supposed to be a High-Blood."
---
The memory faded.
Aldric's attention returned to the present, where Draven was already charging toward his father with a wild grin.
"Now that's more like it!" the King exclaimed.
He charged forward as well, swinging his fist toward Draven.
The punch came rushing toward him.
Still grinning, Draven reacted immediately.
He lowered his body, narrowly dodging the incoming fist before driving his own punch into his father's stomach.
**THUD!**
The impact pushed the King back slightly.
Draven didn't give him a moment to recover.
He rushed forward again, swinging his left hand toward his father.
The King subtly shifted to his right, allowing the punch to pass by before launching a counterattack of his own.
For a fleeting moment, Draven's expression looked dazed.
But a smile quickly returned to his face.
He pushed off the ground, twisting his body to avoid the incoming punch. Using the momentum, he swung his leg around in a powerful kick aimed at his father.
The King caught his leg effortlessly, gripping it firmly while maintaining his smile.
But the exchange didn't end there.
The two continued their brutal clash, exchanging blow after blow.
Neither seemed willing to back down.
Draven attacked relentlessly, while his father responded with equally overwhelming speed and strength. Every time one of them landed a hit, the other retaliated almost immediately.
Bones broke.
Flesh tore.
And Draven's body repeatedly regenerated, allowing him to continue fighting despite the injuries.
The battle carried on for what felt like an eternity.
Two hours passed.
By then, the floor of the training room was stained with blood.
Draven was sent flying backward by another powerful punch.
He managed to keep his balance, however, landing on his feet and skidding across the floor.
His right hand, which he had used to block the blow, was badly broken.
But it didn't stay that way for long.
The bones shifted back into place as his regeneration took effect, and the damage quickly disappeared.
Draven stood there for a moment, his body covered in bloodstains and his white hair slightly dishevelled.
He raised his right hand and casually scratched his head.
*Damn, I'm really hungry now…*
He glanced down at his completely healed hand.
*And I'm starting to get tired, too. I need to get something to eat.*
Finally, he looked toward his father.
"Hey, Dad, it's been hours now. Don't you think it's about time we stopped? I'm tired."
His father looked at him for a moment.
Then he smiled.
"I guess you're right. Let's stop here."