After two days of rest, once Dr. Lin confirmed Selene was fully recovered—her internal energy fluctuations even more active and stable than before—the so-called "training" officially commenced.
The training ground was located in a secluded area behind the main house, partially encircled by tall trees. The floor was made of a specialized shock-absorbent material, with faintly visible energy barrier emitters around the perimeter, clearly designed to contain any accidental energy discharge during sessions. The morning sun filtered through the leaves, failing to dispel the area's solemn, austere atmosphere.
Lucian was already waiting, clad in his tactical gear, posture rigid as a pine. Slightly surprising Selene, Lysander was also present. Dressed in simple black training clothes, he shed some of his corporate sharpness, exuding instead the lethal, oppressive aura of a warrior. He stood at the edge of the field, arms crossed, watching her approach with a calm, assessing gaze, as if evaluating a piece of weaponry about to be honed.
"We start with the fundamentals," Lucian's voice cut through the silence, devoid of preamble. "Your constitution is weak. You cannot withstand high-intensity physical training, but essential endurance, flexibility, and reaction speed must be improved. Otherwise, no matter how unique your ability, you won't have a chance to defend yourself against real danger."
His words were direct and brutal. Selene pressed her lips together and nodded her understanding.
The next two hours were hell for Selene. Lucian was a merciless instructor. The exercises he designed seemed simple—interval running, obstacle courses, core strength drills, reaction ball exercises—but their intensity and frequency were precisely calibrated to the very edge of her physical limits. Within minutes, she was drenched in sweat, breathing ragged, her lungs burning, her legs feeling like lead.
She fell, repeatedly. Her knees and elbows scraped against the hard ground, sending sharp jolts of pain through her. Lucian merely issued calm commands or pointed out flaws in her form, offering no hand to help, no word of comfort.
"Get up."
"Lower your center of gravity."
"Too slow. Again."
Gritting her teeth, Selene forced her trembling body upright each time, driven by sheer willpower to complete the task. She knew there was no way back. This hardship was nothing compared to what she might face in the future.
Lysander remained at the sidelines, a silent observer. His face showed no emotion—no pity, no encouragement. Only his deep, dark eyes remained fixed on the slender figure who fell and rose again and again, taking in every pained frown, every exhausted stumble, and the stubborn, unyielding light that never faded from her eyes.
When Lucian finally called a temporary halt to the physical training, Selene was nearly spent, leaning against the railing at the field's edge, gasping for air, drenched and disheveled.
Only then did Lysander approach. He handed her a bottle of an energy drink and a clean towel.
"How do you feel?" His voice was still flat.
She took the towel, wiping the sweat and… a trace of physiological tears born from pain and frustration from her face. She looked up, weary but clear-eyed and resolute. "Still… breathing."
A flicker of movement, there and gone, touched the corner of his mouth. "Rest for ten minutes. Next is foundational energy sensing and mental shield construction. I will instruct you."
Selene's senses sharpened. This was the main event.
Ten minutes later, they sat facing each other, cross-legged in the center of the training ground.
"Close your eyes. Clear your mind," Lysander's voice was low and penetrating. "Attempt to sense the unusual energy flow within your body. It originates from your bloodline—cool, serene, like a moonlit spring. Find it. Feel its movement."
Selene complied, focusing her attention inward. At first, there was only chaos—muscle soreness and fatigue. But she persisted, sending out tendrils of her mental focus like fine probes. After what felt like an age, within the darkness of her perception, she finally caught a faint, ice-blue stream of light. It meandered slowly and steadily through her meridians, bringing a sensation of cool tranquility wherever it passed.
Was this… the Pure Yin Energy?
"Found it?" Lysander's voice came at the perfect moment; he seemed to sense the subtle shift in her energy.
"Yes," she murmured.
"Good. Now, try to guide this energy with your intent. Not to unleash it, but to spread it evenly over the surface of your skin, forming the most basic, most fragile protective layer. Imagine it as an invisible armor, shielding you from external scrutiny and corrosion."
This was far more difficult than simple sensing. The ice-blue energy stream was like a willful child, sometimes sluggish, sometimes surging, resisting precise control. Selene concentrated fully, a fresh sheen of sweat beading on her forehead as her mental energy depleted rapidly.
Lysander guided her patiently, his voice carrying a strange, steadying cadence. "Don't force it. Try to communicate with it. It is a part of you. Acknowledge it. Guide it…"
Under his direction, Selene gradually found a thread of understanding. An extremely thin, flickering halo of ice-blue light began to shimmer intermittently over her body, like a cloak of moonlight.
Yet, the moment she achieved this initial success, chaos erupted again!
A cold, viscous, malicious awareness—like a venomous serpent—suddenly struck from the depths of her consciousness, trying to entangle and corrupt the fragile shield she had just built! It was Mo Yuan's lingering will!
Selene grunted in pain. The newly formed halo flickered violently, nearly dissipating. The hateful screech echoed once more in her mind, splitting her head with agony, threatening to shatter her focus.
"Hold your core!" Lysander's sharp command was a thunderclap in her mind.
Instantly, a scorching, powerful energy field enveloped her! It was Lysander's Alpha power—dominant, blazing, a wall of fire that forcibly separated her from the invading cold will.
The pressure eased. Seizing the chance, Selene channeled her Pure Yin Energy with all her might. The ice-blue halo stabilized, thin as it was, stubbornly resisting the assault.
The cold will receded like a tide, retreating back into the depths.
Spent, Selene pitched forward, but a strong hand steadied her shoulder.
She looked up into Lysander's face, now very close. His brow was furrowed, his expression graver than she had ever seen.
"It seems it's more active than we anticipated," he said, his voice low. His hand on her shoulder didn't immediately withdraw, imparting a steadying strength. "Training ends here for today. Building mental shields is gradual. It cannot be rushed. From now on, I must be present for every energy training session."
His tone brooked no argument.
Leaning against his arm, Selene panted, shaken by the close call. The training was far more dangerous than she had imagined, but Lysander's presence had become the sole bulwark she could rely on this treacherous path.
"I… can keep going," she insisted once her breathing steadied, struggling to sit upright.
Lysander looked at the defiance in her eyes, set in her pale face. After a moment of silence, he released her shoulder. His tone was still hard, yet it seemed to carry a nuance she couldn't name. "Stubbornness is pointless. Rest. Process today's lessons. We continue tomorrow."
He stood, his tall frame blocking part of the sunlight, and extended a hand to her.
Selene looked at that hand—all defined bones and contained strength—hesitated for a heartbeat, then placed her own within it. Using his leverage, she stood, her legs still weak, but something within her had grown tougher through the repeated falls and struggles.
The path of training had only just begun, strewn with thorns, but she was already upon it, with no retreat possible.
And the bond between her and this powerful, complex man beside her deepened imperceptibly as they faced these dangers and challenges together.