The morning sun over the Azure Sky Academy usually brought the sound of swords clashing and students chanting mantras. But today, it brought a sight so bizarre that the patrolling guards rubbed their eyes in disbelief.
Princess Elara, the coldest and most beautiful prodigy of the empire, was running laps around the Frozen Lotus Pavilion. Her face, usually as pale and calm as moonlight, was now a vibrant shade of tomato red. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and her hands were trembling—not from exhaustion, but from the two heavy buckets of steaming hot water she was carrying.
"Ninety-eight... Ninety-nine..." Elara hissed through gritted teeth.
"Wait, wait! Stop right there!"
A voice drifted from the balcony of the pavilion. Gaurav was reclining on a luxurious silk sofa he had somehow dragged out from her inner chambers. He was wearing dark sunglasses (a gift from his System's starter pack) and holding a skewer of grilled meat in one hand and a fan in the other.
"Did I hear ninety-nine?" Gaurav asked, peeking over his glasses. "I distinctly remember telling you that if a single drop of water falls out, the lap doesn't count. Look at your left boot, Princess. It's damp. That means the last ten laps were a total waste of time. Start over from eighty."
Elara's aura flared. The air around her turned so cold that the grass beneath her feet began to freeze. "Gaurav! You've made me do this for three hours! I am a Princess of the Southern Empire! My father will have your head for this!"
Gaurav didn't even look up from his meat skewer. "Oh, the 'My Father' card. How original. Look, Ice Cube, you can go run to daddy right now. But the moment you leave, that cold energy in your meridian will turn into a permanent ice block. You'll be a very pretty, very royal statue. Is that what you want?"
[System Notification]
Arrogance Points Gained: +150
Target Status: Elara's pride is at 15%. Anger is at 85%.
Advice: Add more salt to her wounds. It improves the 'training' effect.
Gaurav smirked. "And besides, you're not just running. You're balancing 'Yin' (the ice in your body) with 'Yang' (the hot water). If you weren't so busy being offended, you'd realize your knees don't hurt anymore."
Elara paused. She checked her internal energy. To her absolute shock, the sharp, biting pain that usually haunted her joints during cultivation was... gone. Her energy felt fluid, like a river that had finally broken through a dam.
"Now," Gaurav barked, "Start from eighty! And this time, I want to hear you sing 'My Teacher is the Best' with every step. It helps with the breathing rhythm. Totally scientific."
For the next hour, the elite students of the academy watched in horror as their goddess ran in circles, crying out, "My... teacher... is... the... BEST!" with the fury of a thousand dying stars.
The Noon Task: The Art of Precision
After the laps, Elara expected a lesson in high-level frost magic. Instead, Gaurav led her to the academy's kitchen.
"Why are we here?" she asked, her voice raspy.
Gaurav pointed to a massive pile of onions. "You see these? I want you to peel them. But not with a knife. I want you to use your 'Ice Needle' technique to shave the skin off without bruising the onion. If I see a single drop of onion juice on the floor, you're doing another hundred laps."
"You want me... a Heaven-Rank talent... to peel onions with a legendary assassination technique?" Elara's voice was trembling.
"Precision, Elara! Precision!" Gaurav sat on a stool, pulling out a bag of sunflower seeds. "You're always using your power like a sledgehammer. You need to use it like a needle. Now, get to work. I'm hungry, and I want onion rings for lunch."
Elara spent the next two hours in tears—literally. The onion fumes were relentless. Every time she tried to use her ice, she would sneeze, and the onion would shatter into a thousand frozen pieces.
"Useless," Gaurav muttered from behind her, spitting a seed shell. "Again. Faster. More control."
By the end of the afternoon, Elara had successfully peeled fifty onions. Her control over her frost energy had reached a level she hadn't thought possible. She could now form needles so thin they were invisible to the naked eye.
The Evening Duel: The Jealous Rival
As the sun began to set, a shadow fell over the kitchen door. It was Instructor Zhang, a Gold-Rank teacher who had been trying to court Elara for months. He looked at the Princess—covered in onion skins, sweating, and red-eyed—and then at Gaurav, who was taking a nap.
"Gaurav! You animal!" Zhang roared, his sword unsheathed. "How dare you humiliate the Princess like this? I challenge you to a duel of life and death!"
Gaurav opened one eye, looking bored. "Zhang, right? The guy who teaches 'Tiger Flame' but can't even light a candle without coughing? Beat it. I'm busy teaching."
"Teaching?!" Zhang pointed at the onions. "This is manual labor! You are a fraud!"
Gaurav stood up, stretching his limbs. He looked at Elara, who was exhausted. "Hey, Ice Cube. This guy is annoying me. Show him what the onions taught you."
"Me?" Elara blinked. "But I'm exhausted. I have no mana left."
"You don't need mana for a fool," Gaurav said, his voice suddenly sharp and commanding. "Use the 'Flicker' point. Third rib, left side. Now."
Zhang laughed. "She can barely stand! I will end this farce!" He charged forward, his sword glowing with orange flames.
Elara moved. It wasn't a grand magical movement. It was the same precise, tiny flick she had used to peel the onions. Her fingers moved like lightning, cold and sharp.
TING!
She bypassed Zhang's sword entirely. Her fingers tapped his ribcage with the force of a frozen needle.
Zhang's flames vanished instantly. He gasped, his eyes bulging, as his entire body turned stiff. He fell forward, face-planting into the pile of onion skins.
"He's... paralyzed?" Elara whispered, looking at her hands.
"He's an idiot," Gaurav corrected, walking over and stepping on Zhang's back to reach a better view of the sunset. "But you... you're getting there. You're still only at 2% of my greatness, but it's a start."
Elara looked at Gaurav. He was arrogant, annoying, and treated her like a servant. But in one day, he had done more for her cultivation than ten years of "genius" training.
"What is the task for tomorrow, Teacher?" she asked, her voice low.
Gaurav looked at her and smirked. "Tomorrow? Tomorrow we go to the Spirit Market. I need someone to carry my shopping bags. And maybe a new sofa. This one is getting lumpy."
Elara sighed, but for the first time, she didn't threaten to kill him. She just picked up the empty buckets and followed him, a Conqueror-in-the-making following the man who had already conquered everything.