That day, Beatrice finally told Alex about a demi-god named Abraham.
"He was the bravest of them all," she said. "He fought the Evil God and pushed it back. But before the Evil God was sealed, it made one final promise
"Anyone who opens the gate will be given unimaginable power."
"That's what it said. And ever since then, some people ordinary people have been tempted. Some came here to challenge me. Some died during the war the War of Boxina."
They walked slowly, moving past massive broken weapons and piles of shattered armor. All around them was the remains of history's bloodiest battles.
"This place," Beatrice said, "is called the Sword Grave. Every great war has been fought here. The earth remembers. So do I."
Back at the Demon King's Castle
Ashley, meanwhile, was too amazed by David to argue with anything.
The so-called Demon King had toys. He had sweets. He had a ridiculously soft bed.
And most importantly… it had been forever since Ashley had enjoyed a proper sleep.
David, of course, was doing everything out of fear.
He nervously served snacks. Offered fresh pillows. Adjusted the lighting. All while side-eyeing Ashley like she might smite him at any second.
Back to Alex
Alex finally reached the dragon's training area.
It was clear: this place was not built for humans. It was Beatrice's personal playground.
There were boulders arranged like obstacle courses, target dummies made of stone and scales, and even a massive seat shaped like a throne clearly meant for the dragon in her full form.
Next to it, a bed sat comically oversized, along with a snack pile because apparently, she planned to watch him train like it was entertainment.
"Well," Alex muttered, stepping forward, "lesson one try not to die.
Beatrice narrowed her eyes.
"You think I brought you here just to play dress-up with old relics and swing a sword at dead wood?"
Alex tightened his grip on the blade he'd picked. The air around them thickened as her voice dropped.
"No." She stepped off her throne of stone and bone. "You're not leaving this graveyard until your instincts are sharper than your sword. If you can't react faster than a troll's roar, you won't survive."
She cracked her knuckles. "So let's see what you've got, hero."
Without warning, she dashed forward.
Alex barely raised his sword before her fist collided with the flat of the blade, sending shockwaves up his arms. He staggered back just in time to dodge a spinning kick that cracked the ground where he stood.
"Too slow!" she growled.
Alex lunged forward, swinging the blade in a wide arc but Beatrice vanished. She reappeared behind him in a flash of smoke, kicking his back. He tumbled forward and rolled, springing to his feet.
"Teleportation?" he panted.
"No," she said. "Speed. Yours sucks."
Beatrice drew no weapon. She didn't need one. Her fists alone cracked the training stones. Her movements were fluid, deadly, and unpredictable the way a dragon might fight after centuries of watching mortals destroy each other.
Alex blocked a punch, then ducked a sweeping kick. He struck forward a feint then twisted into a rising slash that almost caught her shoulder.
Her eyes sparked.
"Good," she said. "Now stop thinking. Start moving."
Suddenly, fire exploded beneath his feet. Alex jumped, barely avoiding the flame trap she activated with a snap of her fingers. She hurled a stone spear his way he deflected it mid-air, but the force spun him off balance.
Beatrice was already there.
Her hand caught his face, shoving him into the dirt.
"You're holding back," she growled. "Fight like you mean it."
Alex spat dust. "You're enjoying this too much."
"I'm training you," she said. "The next time you face shadow knights, they won't stop to lecture you. You don't get second chances."
Alex's grip tightened.
He pushed off the ground, ducked under her next strike, and brought the sword up in a sudden arc grazing her ribs. She laughed, twisting away, then slammed a punch into his side that knocked the wind from him.
Still, he stayed up.
He growled and charged. His blade flashed in a flurry of fast strikes one, two, three Beatrice blocked them with her forearms, her smile widening.
Then he reversed the final swing and struck the ground.
A blast of dust and debris blinded her for half a second enough time for Alex to leap up and press the blade to her neck.
They froze.
She raised an eyebrow.
"Well," she said, smiling, "you're not entirely hopeless."
Alex dropped the sword, panting. "That's lesson one?"
"No," Beatrice said, cracking her knuckles again.
"That was the warm-up.